Discarded

by Suihanki

The Outsider has been living outside of the Void for a while, and must relearn to be human while combatting strange dreams. Billie Lurk must figure her way around a former god and PTSD survivor. Can she avoid the pitfalls her own father couldn't avoid? WARNING: Contains consensual spanking of an adult, and spoilers for Dishonored: Death of the Outsider.

1. Chapter 1 - Delirium

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi everyone,

I have yet another Dishonored fic, because I just love this game so much. I wrote half of this while I had Covid, so that was fun. It did give me a lot of time off from work to work on my writing. I hope you enjoy the story - I've been wanting to write it for a while. Take care!

Johnna

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Rain so sudden and heavy was a rarity in Karnaca. The weighted beads of water crashing chaotically to the ground reminded her of Dunwall, of both far better and far worse times. She sighed - the newly purchased fire wood stacked high in her arms was now rendered temporarily useless. Oh well, no use crying over it now.

"Why aren't we running?" her companion asked, stiffly walking beside her. He was making an obvious attempt to curb his annoyance, adjusting his grip on the soaked hemp bags filled with groceries.

"Sugar melts, shit runs... you're neither," Billie stated curtly, maintaining the slow stroll. She'd spent years mastering the art of infiltrating the impossible and killing the untouchable, and with it the art of patience. Looking back at him, she raised an eyebrow and asked, "unless you want to end up falling flat on your face?" The boy shot her a subtle look that insisted he wouldn't trip, but she knew better. In his short time back in this plane of existence The Outsider had proven one thing to her without a doubt... he was much more graceful when ethereal.

Billie hurried down the thick cement steps leading to their apartment building. She turned slightly, checking the large swinging door with her hip to get inside. The boy swept in after her, clumsily bashing the grocery bags into the door as he did so. Their footsteps echoed loudly throughout the large corridor; they were the building's only tenants at the moment. It had been closed down during the time of the coup - the Overseers had seen to that. It honestly made Billie nervous to have The Outsider so close to the Empire's tyrannical fanatics... but finding a place to stay that wasn't infested with blood flies, painfully expensive, or falling apart had proven to be harder than expected.

Shifting the wood to balance between one arm and her hip, she pulled her key out of her jacket pocket and unlocked the door, throwing it open. She took the wood to the fireplace, setting it down in front of it to dry. The kid shut the door, locking it behind them and dropping the bags to the floor. Billie plopped down into the armchair by the fireplace, unstrapping her boots and asking, "what you want for dinner?"

"I don't know, food's food," he said, shrugging as he kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his jacket.

Billie pulled off her boots and set them in front of the fireplace. She rolled her eye, getting to her feet and throwing some dry firewood into the fireplace. "For someone that didn't eat for four thousand years, you care very little about food," she remarked.

"It's not as though I was eating all that much before that, either," he stated, gathering some papers and crumpling them up, packing them around the wood for kindling.

Right. Billie winced, realizing that while she'd occasionally poked fun at Emily for being a rich empress, her own less than modest upbringing in the Flooded District had been almost cushy compared to his. It was perplexing, though - what had just come out of his mouth was such a flat statement. There was no venom, no regret, no sorrow. It was hollow, as if it were someone else's words. She supposed that what had happened to him might feel like a distant dream, by now. She could never begin to hope to understand.

"Still," the retired Whaler mused, shoving a hand into her pants' pocket and pulling out some matches, "you've gotta eat. I'm going to make stew." She struck the match against its packet, holding it against the tinder until it lit.

"Would you like help with dinner?" he offered, hanging his jacket up on the coat rack.

Billie shook her head, picking the bags up and off of the floor and carrying them to the kitchen. "It's alright... why not get some rest?" she offered. She'd heard him tossing and turning all night, and the circles under his eyes were impossible to ignore. This seemed to be a recurring cycle with him - he'd spend a few weeks at a time without a single hitch, followed by at least a week of nightmares before the cycle would repeat. Billie hadn't pushed for any answers, figuring that if he wanted to talk about it, he would.

He looked like he had to think pretty hard about that, before he finally conceded. He nodded tiredly, heading off to his room without saying anything else. Billie reached into the bag, rummaging around underneath the mutton and the vegetables for the glass bottle of whiskey.

Around an hour later, the room smelled of mutton broth and potatoes, and hints of oregano and whiskey. Billie stirred in a hefty mixture of butter and flour, trying to make it a bit hardier, before taking another swig of the whiskey she'd used to flavor the broth. Right as she swallowed, a loud, guttural scream rang out throughout the apartment. Billie almost dropped the bottle to the counter, glass thunking against the wood - she'd never heard him make a sound like that.

She pushed her way through his door, head whipping around as she tried to locate some kind of threat. The last time a friend screamed like that, the Crown Killer had stolen Sokolov right off of her ship. Not only was she not seeing a threat, though... she wasn't seeing him, either. Billie finally started looking the only place she could - up. She almost jumped clean out of her skin as she saw a curled up mess on top of the armoire. "By the VOID, kid!" she shouted instinctively, "what're you doing up there!?" She'd grown used to him sitting on odd things like tables and counters, but this was new.

There was no answer from the hunched over figure. Was he still asleep? On the other side of the room sat a crate that he'd been using as a table. She picked the stack of books up and set them on the bed, before shifting it over to the armoire and climbing up on top of it. "Kid?" Billie asked, nudging at him, "hey, wake up!"

A gasp escaped from him loudly and his head shot up, almost slamming it into the ceiling in the process. His hands were grasping at his throat tightly - she could guess what that was all about. She understood, now.

He scrunched his face up tiredly before looking at her with hazy green eyes and asking simply, "what?" His gaze traveled to the floor, and then to the wood underneath him. "...Why am I up here?" he asked quietly, scrunching his face up again.

"I was gonna ask you that," she exclaimed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes tightly, before wiping some sweat off of his forehead with his sleeve. Huh, he seemed to be drenched. "You don't look so hot," she said cautiously.

"I'm fine," he insisted, "I need to get down from here."

Billie nodded, stepping backward and off of the crate. She stretched her hand out to him, not even taking notice of its disfigured appearance and hum of the void that it emitted, anymore. He reached out and grabbed on to her hand, shakily climbing down and on to the crate, and then to the floor. His hand was so sweaty, and clammy. Billie reached out and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. "You're not fine, you're on fire," she exclaimed, not able to help the worry from seeping into her voice.

He swatted her hand away from his forehead, repeating himself irritably, "I'm fine."

"Now isn't the time to be a stubborn old man," Billie spat, crossing her arms.

He gave her an incredulous look, lifting a finger in front of himself as if he'd suddenly lost every bit of his patience. As he opened his mouth, however, his eyes looked as if they were suddenly losing focus. The former deity swayed a bit from side to side - she didn't like the look of this at all. "Right, I'm taking you to Addermire," she announced, grabbing his arm and draping it over her shoulders for stability before leading him out of the room.

"What about dinner?" he reasoned.

Billie led him to the chair by the fireplace and sat him down. "Dinner can wait," she said, grabbing his boots and bringing them over to him. She pulled the pot of stew off of the oven, setting it on the metal trivet before going to get her boots. The Outsider was begrudgingly slipping on his own boots, muttering quietly. Wow, he really was crotchety today. After slipping on her jacket and buttoning it up, followed by gloves, she reached a hand out to him and helped him up.

He swayed for just a moment before stabilizing. Billie came up behind him with his jacket and helped him slip it on, not at all ignorant to the subtle and silent daggers he was staring through her. She ignored them, swinging his arm back over her shoulders and leading him out the door.

As she locked the door behind them she found some brief relief in the fact that the rain had stopped. She helped him up the stairs and began down the street toward Addermire Station. The kid didn't seem to be putting too much of his weight on her, but every now and then his balance would falter and she'd steady him. Billie strategically steered them around puddles in the street as he asked in annoyance, "is this really necessary?"

"You're not invincible anymore, acting like you are won't make it so," Billie said, voice a bit more harsh than she intended. He went quiet, crossing his arms and staring straight ahead as they got inside. "Two please," Billie said to the employee behind the desk, pulling the appropriate amount of gold out of her pocket and setting it down in front of her. Damn, she was going to buy some new boots tomorrow... she was going to have to wait a few days, now. Oh well, it wouldn't kill her to wait a few days for new boots. It would, however, possibly kill him to wait to see a doctor.

After receiving their tickets, she helped him to the carriage, taking special care to make sure he didn't lose his balance as he stepped over the electrified track. Billie could easily picture a grumpy old man as he plopped down into the seat in the carriage. She sighed, sitting down as well and shutting the door.

As the carriage began making its way down the tracks, Billie studied the rock laden island housing the former solarium across Karnaca Bay. Addermire Institute of Infectious Disease was reportedly nearly back on its feet after the fortunate... elimination of the Crown Killer. Billie had never actually been inside - the closest she'd gotten was picking up Emily in the skiff.

On queue, as if he could read her mind, the sulking figure sitting across from her chimed in with a smug, "taking me to Grim Alex - are you that eager to be rid of me?"

Billie rolled her eye, crossing her arms and retorting, "how dare I take you to the best doctor in all The Isles! You know just as well as I do, maybe more, that the Crown Killer is gone." He gave her the faintest of smirks that plainly spelt out that he knew she was right. Billie wasn't sure what had crawled up his ass, maybe the fever... but to say he was acting strangely was an understatement.

She stared out ahead at the thin, electrified rails that were suspending them over the bay. It was a much nicer day than the day she had picked Emily up in the skiff, now that the rain had stopped. The clouds had blown north and opened the sky up, letting some of the sun bounce back up at them off of the waves. A screech cried out as the carriage slowed to a halt, finally on solid land once again. Billie pushed the door open, stepping out and holding a hand out to him.

He gave her a bit of an incredulous look, getting to his feet and stepping out of his own accord. Billie watched cautiously, ready to catch him if needed, but her worries seemed unfounded. She reached out and hooked an arm under his, regardless, not wanting to risk the old grump falling and smacking his head on the stone ground. He let out an exasperated sigh, but followed as she pulled him up the stairs and toward the entrance.

Billie's eyes swept from left to right, taking in the large room that seemed a lot emptier than she expected it to be. It did, however, seem to suit the alchemist to which it belonged. The walls were painted a pale, calming green... apparently recently, from the smell. White stone tiles beneath their feet were decorated here and there with an equally muted green trimming along the walls. She headed over to what appeared to be an intake desk, looking up and around at the large windows, which seemed to let in just the right amount of light.

Before she could speak to the man behind the counter, a confused but not displeased "Meagan?" called out from the hall to the right of her.

Billie whipped her head to face the voice, grinning when she found the good doctor standing in front of her. She was drying her hands off on a cloth, looking tired, though much less tired than the last time she'd seen her. "Alexandria, it's been a while," Billie said, pulling the kid along with her as she walked over to her.

"Too long," Alexandria exclaimed, shoving the cloth into one of the pockets of her seemingly ever-present forest green overalls. After just a moment concern came to her face as she asked, "you're not ill are you?" Before Billie could answer, the doctor's eyes darted to her companion, who was still doing his best to stand up straight. "She's not, but you are!" Alexandria said, rushing over to them and immediately pressing her hand to his forehead.

He sighed, repeating what he'd said earlier, "I'm fine."

"You're burning up," Alexandria asserted, looking over to Billie and asking, "how long has he had this fever?"

Billie was relieved that she'd seen through him so easily. "He just woke up like this," she explained, catching him as he almost fell yet again. She kept him hoisted up, nodding to him and saying, "he's dizzy."

"I'm not dizzy," he insisted, straightening his back out. "Can we go home, hospitals are so grim," he said, turning his head seemingly to look her in the eyes as he did so.

That little shit.

The doctor's posture instantly stiffened, just the slightest bit, but she appeared to shake it off. "We need to get your temperature down," Alexandria insisted, turning on a heel and heading toward a large door that was labeled 'Consultation'. She cocked her head for them to follow, and so Billie did, pulling him along with her as she did.

As they got through the door, a younger woman was there to greet them. She smiled with the same kind smile that Alexandria always gave, warm brown eyes wrinkling at the corners as she asked, "is this a new patient, Doctor Hypatia?"

"Susan," the doctor rushed, passing her right by and hurrying them down the long hallway. There appeared to be multiple rooms, some of which had large glass windows. Alexandria looked over her shoulder and called out, "can you please help me? We need to prepare an ice bath."

The leisurely tone the assistant was sporting suddenly changed to serious, "I'll go get Caleb."

"Ice bath?" Billie's companion asked weakly, sounding as if he might be going down hill. He began a frail struggle, attempting to pull away but failing. She didn't blame him, it sounded downright miserable.

Alexandria led them to a room at the very end of the hall, pivoting left and taking them inside. She closed the door and drew curtains over the window, cutting their view to the hallway off. The Outsider began to pull a bit harder in an attempt to separate himself from Billie, almost falling over in the process. "This is a nice place you've got," he said, voice maintaining its usual calm demeanor as he looked to Billie, "I hear doctors make a killing."

Billie shot him a nasty glare, not liking his taunting of her friend. If he was trying to get her to take him home, it wasn't going to work. She quickly shifted her gaze to Alexandria, whose posture had grown even more stiff as she pulled a thin glass thermometer out of its tin. "Thank you," the doctor said, smiling and shaking the thermometer a bit, "but currently I'm not accepting payments. Can you open your mouth for me?"

He let out a reluctant sigh, opening his mouth. Alexandria placed the thermometer under his tongue and he closed his mouth, seeming utterly annoyed. She led him to have a seat on the couch at the side of the room, and he did so, reluctantly. "Oh my, it seems in the rush I forgot to ask your name... a bad time to ask now, I suppose," the doctor said, taking his wrist into her hand and feeling for his pulse.

Oh... a name.

Billie and The Outsider locked eyes instantly, and she could tell that he had no idea how to answer that any better than she did. He had a thermometer in his mouth, so she supposed this was on her. She locked her jaw for a moment, searching her mind for a name that didn't sound like it was pulled out of her ass. "Rowan," she blurted, "his name's Rowan."

"And how old are you, Rowan?" Alexandria asked, though it was obvious he wouldn't be the one answering the question.

How should she answer this? She couldn't very well tell her the truth. Billie would need to pick something remotely close to his physical age to make it believable, while still giving him an age that granted him enough responsibility. "He's twenty," she decided. The former assassin looked over at the former deity, searching for some kind of approval in her choices, but his energy seemed to be waning again. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were staring past her, not at all looking well.

Susan finally came back, carrying a large bag of ice, waddling a bit as she carried it - the thing was almost her size. Towing behind her was a much larger man, two of the same sized bags hoisted over his shoulders. They both set the bags down next to a large porcelain bathtub that was sitting in the corner of the room. "Here's the ice you needed, Doctor Hypatia," the gentleman announced.

"Thank you, Caleb," Alexandria answered, taking a close look at the Outsider's eyes, which honestly made Billie uneasy. Caleb nodded, heading back out of the room, leaving Susan with them. The doctor finally pulled the thermometer out of his mouth, calmly frowning as she viewed the results.

His eyes focused again, saying weakly, "did you see that guy? He had a lot of meat on his bones, didn't he?"

Alexandria frowned deeper, crouching down in front of him and explaining, "Rowan, you have a dangerously high fever of almost one hundred and six, and your heart rate is badly elevated. We need to get it down, and that means surrounding you in ice."

The Outsider shook his head slowly, "everything's fine, I'm fine..."

"I'm afraid you're not," the doctor said softly, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee. He shook his head more quickly, pulling his legs up onto the couch, obviously becoming agitated.

"By the Void, kid, do what she says," Billie finally said, crossing her arms as she began to lose patience.

Alexandria looked back at her and shook her head, seeming to know something that Billie didn't. Before she had much time to think on that, he scrambled away from the doctor and pressed himself into the corner of the couch. "I-I'm fine!" he shouted.

"Sweetheart," Alexandria crooned, slowly getting to her feet before joining him on the couch.

This only forced him further into the corner. His hands shot up to his throat, grasping at it as fevered words began spilling out of his mouth, "I'm normal, I-I'm not what... y-you don't need to-"

Billie immediately rushed over, finally realizing what this was. He was delirious and he was going to end up saying something they'd both regret. "Alexandria," she interjected, "do you think I can talk to him alone?"

Alexandria eyed him up and down worriedly, getting to her feet and nodding. "I'll be across the hall," she explained, leading Susan out of the room and shutting the door.

She looked him over cautiously, before sitting down on the couch next to him. He tried to pull away further, but the arm of the couch allowed him no more leeway. Billie had never seen him this way, and she was at a loss. "Kid, snap out of it," she said quietly, reaching out for his arm and grabbing it gently.

"You don't have to d-do this," he whimpered, looking up at her with wide, frightened eyes as he kept a grip on his own throat, "you've, y-you've got the wrong person, p-please-"

Billie felt her heart drop, not liking what she was hearing. She moved closer, gently grabbing him by both of his upper arms and trying to keep eye contact with him, "hey..."

As he began to hyperventilate, Billie was having a harder and harder time looking at him as a grumpy old man. In his delirium he was obviously in a completely different place than she was right now, and all she could see was a scared kid. She reached up with both hands and lightly placed them on his face, causing him to recoil slightly. "No one's gonna hurt you," Billie promised, trying to bring him back to reality, even a bit. His eyes darted around the room once more and then back to her, looking confused. She sighed, pulling off her right glove and lifting her eye patch to reveal the black and crimson chunk of the void that now inhabited where her eye once was.

He studied her face with fearful eyes for what seemed like forever, before some kind of spark finally came back to his eyes. "Billie," he muttered quietly, seeming confused, "what are we doing here? I want to go home..."

"You're at Addermire, you're real sick," Billie explained, relieved by the tiny sign of lucidity. She reached out and dabbed some of the sweat off of his face with her removed glove. He flinched a bit, his mind still on high alert. "You've got to do what the doctor tells you," she began to explain before she was cut off.

"I want to go home," he repeated, voice beginning to sound watery as he raised his hands to clench the sides of his head.

She sighed, knowing he was still delirious. "We can't go home yet, you're too sick," Billie attempted to explain again, "after you let Alexandria help you, we can go home."

His whole face was tense as he clenched his head tighter - she bet he had a massive headache right now. Worried eyes searched hers as he asked, "are you sure?"

The kid wasn't making much sense. "I'm sure," she promised.

He shut his eyes tightly, shoulders stiffening as he stipulated, "don't... don't let anyone hold me down." He breathed heavier, seeming to become even more anxious at the thought.

"Okay, no one has to hold you down," Billie said, trying to keep her voice calm for him. She was getting increasingly more and more nervous at how ill he was and she was becoming very eager to cool him down. "But you've got to do what she tells you to do," she reminded him.

He opened his eyes and looked up at her, nodding and asking quietly, "...you're not going to leave, are you?"

She frowned, shaking her head and assuring him, "I'm not going anywhere, kid." He must have been extremely ill, he'd never seemed particularly bothered by where she was or wasn't.

The former deity seemed to calm a bit at that, though his mind still didn't seem all there. "What if they hurt me," he wondered out loud, now seemingly talking to himself.

Billie grabbed his chin to try to get him to look in her eyes, wanting to keep him anchored in reality. "I wouldn't even let Daud hurt you," she pointed out, "what makes you think I'd let anyone else?" He stared at her for a while longer, eyes appearing to focus for the moment as he finally nodded again, albeit subtly. A small sigh of relief heaved from her chest - maybe they could finally get his fever down now. Billie pulled her eyepatch back down and then slipped her glove back on before getting to her feet. She headed over to the door, looking back at him one more time to make sure he was still there before opening the door and making her way across the hall.

Doctor Hypatia and her assistant were in a smaller room across from them, which appeared to be a break room that doubled as an office. Alexandria got up from the small table she'd been sitting at, asking, "how is he?"

"He's not great but I think you'll be able to get him in that bath," Billie explained, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She was getting a headache of her own, now.

"We should get started as soon as possible, I have a feeling he's been feeling ill for longer than he's been letting on," the doctor said with a sad, knowing tone as she swept past to get back to the exam room.

He's been what now? Something burned in Billie's chest, and she wasn't sure if it was anger or worry. As she tailed after Alexandria, she saw how he pushed himself further into the corner of the couch when they entered the room.

Alexandria made her way over to him, crouching down in front of him and saying softly, "alright, Rowan... we're going to have to cover you in ice, do you understand?" There was a long pause, followed by slow nodding. The doctor smiled at him gently and explained, "the first thing I need you to do is to get mostly undressed. Susan can help you." The Outsider slowly got to his feet, swaying a bit as he did so, but Susan caught him. As the assistant helped him begin to undress, Alexandria got to her feet and asked, "Meagan, do you think you can help me?"

Billie got to her feet immediately - she'd been feeling anxious from her inability to do anything about the situation. "Where do you want me?" she asked.

"Can you take one of those bags and pour it into the tub please?" Alexandria requested, opening a cupboard at the side of the room and pulling out several thin towels.

Rushing to the tub, Billie untied the bag of ice and hoisted it up with a grunt to dump it inside. As she looked at the ice she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy... this wasn't going to be pleasant. Alexandria set the towels down next to the tub before reaching inside and repositioning the ice so it would support his back. She took a larger towel, shaking it out in front of her and then draping it over the ice.

Susan helped him over to the tub, supporting some of his weight as they walked. He looked at the tub fearfully and then over at Billie. His mind still seemed to be racing. Billie reached an arm out to Susan, saying simply, "let me." She complied, slowly helping him to hold on to Billie instead of her.

As she took a hold of him she couldn't help but notice the heat radiating off of him - it was like he'd gotten warmer since they arrived. "Come on, all you have to do is step over and lay down," she said, helping him over to the side of the tub. He tensed up, breathing a bit faster as she suggested he lay down. "It'll be fine," she tried, hoping she sounded comforting but knowing that it probably sounded hollow. With a sigh, the Outsider shakily stepped into the tub, one foot at a time. She helped him lower himself down in to a seated position, watching him recoil a bit as the bare skin on his back pressed into the ice, despite the towel separating them.

Doctor Hypatia draped a second towel over his legs this time, explaining, "I'm going to pour some on your legs now." She untied a new bag of ice, lifting it up with what appeared to be relative ease and pouring it out into the tub slowly, over top the towel. He flinched, entire body going stiff as he looked up at Billie.

Billie wasn't sure what the hell she could do to make this experience less miserable. She wasn't exactly good at these things. As Alexandria began laying towels over his arms and chest, he looked like he was about to jump right out of his skin. He began to struggle just a bit, trying to sit forward.

"Rowan, I need you to lay back for me," Doctor Hypatia reminded him gently, trying to help him lay back down by softly pressing on his shoulders. This did nothing to convince him to lay back down, as he was now trying even harder to get up.

Billie made her way to the head of the tub, hesitating for a moment before putting her hand on his head and patting it gently. He flinched and whipped his head around to look at her, eyes clouded with confusion. "Come on, kid, lay back," she tried, petting the sweaty bangs back and off of his forehead. He searched her eyes for a moment, and she repeated herself, "lay back and do what the doctor says, and then we can go home." He clenched his jaw, but allowed himself to be laid back down. Billie let out yet another sigh of relief, continuing to pet his hair in hopes of keeping him still, marveling at how much of the tension was finally leaving him.

After a moment, she could feel someone's eyes on her; as she looked to the side, she found Alexandria watching her. The doctor looked away, going back to positioning the towels over top of him before pouring the last bag of ice into the tub with him. He shut his eyes tightly, looking as if he wanted to disappear. Billie frowned, petting his hair back and asking impatiently, "how long does he have to stay like this?"

The doctor walked over to the cupboard and pulled out a small hemp bag, bringing it back over to them. "That can change from person to person, we're going to have to keep an eye on him," she explained apologetically. She reached into the tub and took some of the ice, filling the bag with it and handing it to Billie, "it would help if you'd hold this to his head."

Billie nodded, immediately pressing the cold compress to the top of his head. He groaned, stirring a bit before settling back down. Alexandria brought over a wooden chair, setting it behind Billie, implying that she might be holding that there for a while. Sighing, she plopped backward and down into the chair, not moving the cold compress from his head.

Every ten minutes or so the doctor would take his temperature, documenting it in a small brown book that she seemed to keep in a pocket in her overalls. Billie occasionally switched which arm she was using to keep the compress on his head, both arms getting a bit tired. He stayed mostly quiet, occasionally muttering to himself about... rye bread? Billie frowned, trying to make out what he was saying, but failing.

After what felt like an eternity, his body finally reached a temperature that Alexandria felt was acceptable. "Well, it's not perfect, but I believe his body will be able to handle this on its own, now," the doctor explained, bringing over a metal tub and setting it on the ground, "we're going to begin removing the ice now." As both Alexandria and Susan began scooping the ice out of the bathtub, Billie carefully pulled the compress away from his head and inspected his face. The redness that had encompassed his face and neck was gone, and the tension lines in his features had softened. That had to be good, right? Doctor Hypatia didn't seem to be removing the ice terribly fast. She stopped every now and then to wait, and take his temperature yet again. Billie didn't really know why, but she wasn't about to question Alexandria.

Grumbling made its way out of the former god, green eyes cracking open and searching the room before settling on Billie. "Are we... at Addermire?" he asked softly, eyes dancing around the room a bit again, before they found the good doctor.

"That's right, you don't remember...?" Billie asked cautiously.

"Bits and pieces..." he reached up to his face and rubbed his eyes, before looking down and asking simply, "why am I in my underwear?"

Alexandria made her way across the room, slipping her notebook back into her pocket and introducing herself, "Rowan, I'm Doctor Hypatia. I'm afraid you were hyperthermic, we had to get your temperature down."

"Rowan...?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"That's right, Rowan," Billie remarked, trying to convey as much of what she was feeling with her eye as possible. That feeling being 'shut up before you give yourself away'. "You had a fever, and I brought you here."

He stared at her for a while, before something in his eyes seemed to click. He nodded, asking, "can I get out of this tub?"

"Let me check your temperature again, and then perhaps we'll see about getting you out," Alexandria said, offering him the thermometer. He took it weakly, popping it into his mouth and waiting. Eventually, Alexandria reached out and pulled it from his mouth, exclaiming, "alright, I believe we can get you out now. Ideally, I'd like for you to stay a few hours, in a bed, so we can observe you before sending you home."

He frowned, asking, "is that really necessary?"

"By the void, kid," Billie said impatiently, "you could have died, do what the doctor says."

His eyes widened in surprise, before narrowing as he looked down and went silent. Alexandria frowned, placing on a gentle hand on Billie's shoulder and suggesting, "how about we get you out of that ice, Rowan?" Susan offered him her hands, and he sighed, nodding and taking them. He got to his feet shakily, and with the help of Susan, got out of the tub. Billie got up from her chair, moving off to the side so not to be in the way. Susan helped him over to the bed that was in the corner of the room, helping him sit down before going to the closet.

Billie approached slowly, looking him up and down for any signs that he was in immediate danger. "How're you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he answered quietly, still obviously fatigued.

She rolled her eye and crossed her arms, muttering sarcastically, "yeah, you look real fine." He didn't reply, staring off into the distance.

Susan brought over some linen pants and a shirt, offering them to him. He took them, and Billie felt compelled to turn around to allow him to get dressed, even though she'd clearly seen him in his underpants... and so she did. She turned around and rubbed the bridge of her nose, wondering just how long he'd been sick. Eventually, she heard the springs in the bed compress and she turned around again, leveling a searching gaze on him.

As if she'd read her mind, Doctor Hypatia made her way over to the pair of them and asked, "Rowan, how long have you been feeling sick?" Susan pulled the covers back and motioned to them, and he sighed in exasperation and laid down, allowing her to cover him up.

"I wasn't feeling sick," he muttered, rolling over onto his side to face the wall.

Alexandria frowned, looking to Billie and suggesting, "Meagan, perhaps we should let him rest. Do you think I could speak with you?"

Billie frowned, wondering if that was such a good idea. He seemed sane, now... but he'd asked her not to leave. "That okay with you, kid?" she asked the lump under the covers.

"Why wouldn't it be?" the lump inquired.

Shrugging, Billie pivoted and followed Alexandria out of the room, allowing Susan to look after him. She was led across the hall, back into the combined office and break room. "Can I get you some tea?" the doctor asked.

"Why not," Billie exclaimed, throwing her hands up and plopping backward onto the couch. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed, muttering, "thank you."

Alexandria smiled, picking up the teapot and pouring it into a nearby cup. She brought it over to her and Billie took it gratefully, smiling a bit when she saw two sugar cubes on the saucer.

"Two sugars, no milk, right?" the doctor asked.

Picking up the cubes and dropping them into her cup, she chuckled, "you remembered."

Alexandria grabbed her own tea and sat down next to her on the couch, saying in her usually kind and cheerful tone, "this time I got to be the one to bring you the tea."

"Now if only we could have tea over some good circumstances, for once," Billie exclaimed, bringing the cup to her lips and blowing on it.

Frowning sadly, the doctor nodded and sighed. After a long pause, she asked slowly, "would it... be rude of me to ask?"

Billie blinked, looking up at her and realizing she was nodding her head toward her eye. Yes, she supposed that the last time she'd seen Alexandria, she'd had two eyes. Billie reached up and traced the lining of the eyepatch gently, explaining, "it's a long story... one involving a lot of blood and a bunch of cultists, I... don't really want to talk about it."

Alexandria blinked, looking as if she'd really like to ask more, but instead she changed the subject, "so, how did you meet Rowan?"

How should she answer that? It wasn't as if she could tell her the truth. "He was..." Billie said, pausing for a moment before offering a half truth, "hurt, by the same cultists. He had nowhere to go."

"And so you took him in," Alexandria said in surprise, grinning, "how does he like The Dreadful Wale?"

A sharp, deep pain tugged at her chest at the mention of The Dreadful Wale. The last time she had seen her ship, she had set it adrift and on fire at sea, with the corpse of one of the few men she had ever looked up to inside of it. "The Dreadful Wale is gone," Billie said quietly, swallowing the lump in her throat and changing the subject, "we found a place not far from the dockyard. It's not much, but it's dry, and quiet."

Sadness fell over Alexandria's face at that explanation, that never dying curiosity still shining in her eyes as she politely switched subjects with her, "oh, so you're not far from my apartment!"

"Yeah, not that you're ever inside of it," Billie teased, grinning and taking a sip of her tea.

Alexandria smiled and looked down, stirring her tea with a small spoon and admitting, "I suppose I've been a bit... preoccupied with making up for lost time."

Billie frowned, setting her cup back on to its saucer and asking, "how have you... been?" She had heard that the doctor had been keeping her doors open almost twenty-four seven, and she was sure it had quite a lot to do with her guilt over the Crown Killer murders.

A long silence followed, with Alexandria going still for a moment. "I would be lying to you if I said I've been fantastic," she finally said, "it was... rocky, for a while, and it still is sometimes. I still get a lot of nightmares and what I assume are memories." She smiled just a bit, "Aramis has been a good friend to me."

It didn't shock Billie at all to hear she was still having nightmares. She had done her fair share of horrific things and had seen an equally fair share of nightmares, but she could only imagine the things Alexandria had to see in her sleep. It was no secret that the Crown Killer was a vulgar, messy, brutally sadistic murderer... and even knowing the truth, it was so difficult to picture the doctor's face under those famous bandages. "Aramis is a fantastic friend to have," Billie agreed - the mine baron had been a good friend of hers for years. She was glad to hear that the doctor had a friend around, after what she'd been through.

"He is," Alexandria said, "and he's been an integral part to rehabilitating Karnaca." She took another sip of her tea, staying silent for a while before asking, "about Rowan... has he been acting strangely at all lately? Perhaps more tired, or ill in any way?"

"He's been a bit of a moody pain in the ass lately," Billie said, shrugging, "but other than that, no, I don't think so." She didn't think so. It wasn't as if she paid especially hard attention to him in the first place. She felt for him... after seeing the cold, dark empty that he'd been trapped in for the last four thousand years, Void knew she felt for him. However, she wasn't one to push someone for emotions. If he wanted or needed to talk, she assumed the old bastard would do so. After all, he'd had no problem being chatty with others like Daud, Corvo Attano, and Empress Emily Kaldwin in the past.

Alexandria frowned, placing her saucer and teacup on the nearby table and saying, "I'm not sure it could have gotten this severe overnight. I feel like he must have been feeling unwell for quite some time." Billie didn't like the sound of that. Now she felt a bit guilty, having walked so slowly in the rain with him earlier - she didn't know he was sick. Alexandria continued, "also, I can't quite pinpoint what's causing the fever. He has a high fever, but no swollen throat or mucus. I wonder if he's been having nausea, or headaches. Whatever it is, his body seems to be struggling to fight it on its own."

Billie frowned, wondering if separating him from the void had anything to do with this, at all. It wasn't as if she could ask the good doctor that. Firstly, she couldn't go around blabbing that he was The Outsider, and secondly she doubted Alexandria had any experience in this kind of thing.

While Billie was in her own head, Alexandria asked, "is there some reason you can think of that he might hide being ill, or perhaps not want to take care of himself?"

"The truth is, I don't know him all that well," Billie admitted, "it's not like we've known each other all that long." That was probably half true. Sometimes it troubled her how much The Outsider probably knew about her which he chose not to bring up. Thanks to him, she now knew that the florist down the street used to bully other children when she was eight, and that the night shift captain likes to wear women's clothes in his spare time. She knew the strangest things about complete strangers thanks to him, yet it felt like she knew close to nothing at all about him.

"Well, something's not right," the doctor mused, "because there's no possibility that he wasn't feeling how ill he is."

Billie sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, groaning, "that little shit, what was he thinking?"

"I hope this doesn't come off as… unkind," Alexandria began, seeming to choose her words carefully, "but at times you can come off as a bit… unapproachable. Do you think that maybe he wasn't comfortable telling you?"

Ouch. That stung a bit. She was right of course, but it still stung, especially coming from Alexandria. "I suppose I can be a bit brash," Billie admitted, sighing down into her tea.

"It's part of your charm," Alexandria rushed, waving her hands in front of herself placatingly. She took another sip of her tea before explaining carefully, "but, he's been through a lot. Perhaps a more… even tempered approach is needed."

"I'm not sure I know how to do even tempered," Billie admitted. Her life had been a series of eccentric mentors, atrocious mistakes, and extreme hardship. Uncertainty, treachery and betrayal had been commonplace throughout her life. She liked things to be straightforward and simple - though life was of course anything but. The former assassin had always tried to be straightforward with people, and had hoped for the same courtesy from others, though she didn't hold her breath. While she did do her best to be truthful, she wasn't great at tact. Her words often came out as curt, and cold. It usually wasn't intentional, though she had found that it was a convenient way to keep many at arms length. She wasn't close to many people - most of the people she had gotten close to were now dead.

Alexandria smiled knowingly, insisting, "trust me, you're quite capable, Meagan. You were more than kind to me while I was on your ship."

"That's different," Billie argued, "you're a damn delight to be around and he's… eh…"

Alexandria chuckled in earnest for a moment, before asking wryly, "Meagan, are you saying you would rather spend time with a former serial killer than a moody teenager?"

Billie shrugged and took a sip of her tea. "Depends on the serial killer," she said bluntly.

"He's been through quite a lot, Meagan," Alexandria reasoned, "you can't expect him to walk out of that unscathed. It's not an excuse for him being a 'little shit', as you said, but this is going to take time, and patience. He's only human."

That phrase struck Billie as odd - only human. She supposed she very rarely thought of him as human. He was more of an idea taken physical form… and living in her apartment. Well damn, she really wasn't doing him any favors, was she? She supposed he had been through a lot, though she had always assumed that after four thousand years the pain must be far from him now. If anything, this afternoon's nightmare had proved that it simply was untrue.

"I know he's been through a lot, but I don't exactly know what to do with that," Billie groused. She leaned back in her seat, letting out a huff, "I never expected to be living with the o-" she stopped herself, "with a shell shocked kid. It's not that I mind, but I have no fucking clue what I'm doing."

The doctor nodded in agreement, musing, "I'm not sure that anyone would know what to do, in your situation. But, as a doctor, let me offer this advice." She paused for a moment, appearing to ponder how to accurately word her thoughts. "Trauma is complex. Even when the mind may appear to move on, the body remembers," Alexandria explained, "I wouldn't be terribly shocked if I found that his nervous system was constantly on high alert. It could cause the drop in his immune system, among many other things."

"So he could be susceptible to this kind of thing happening again?" Billie asked worriedly. Another thought hit her - his body had been in the void for four thousand years. What kind of world did he come from originally? What if there were diseases they don't have now. By the Void, what if there are diseases now that they didn't have then? She was no doctor, but she was decently sure that could have massive consequences. She sighed - she couldn't ask Alexandria.

"It may, so you both might want to keep an eye on it," Alexandria said, frowning as she continued, "and you may want to find out why he hid his illness for so long."

Billie sighed again, "that'll be fun. Getting information from him is like pulling teeth." Every time she began to feel like she understood the Outsider, he would lock his metaphorical doors tight. In the last few days, it had gotten even worse. He had smacked down her attempts to get to know him with resounding accuracy, to the point where it made her wonder if he even wanted to be here.

"He's been through a lot," Alexandria repeated, "and he's so young. I can't fathom the many complicated things he's feeling." She picked up her teacup and sipped, acquiring a far off look in her eyes. Billie remembered that look - the look the doctor gets when she's trying to solve a problem. She found that look entirely enchanting and endearing, truth be told, but she wasn't sure that this was something that even Alexandria Hypatia could solve.

"He's practically a child, Meagan," the doctor finally mused. Billie knew that simply was untrue, but she couldn't exactly tell her that. "Expecting him to handle this with the wisdom of us forty-somethings is honestly unfair," Alexandria said.

Billie knew that of the three of them, The Outsider was the oldest, and quite possibly the most wise. The most experienced, though? No, most definitely not.

"And just what am I supposed to do?" Billie asked, rubbing the bridge of her nose, "treat him like a kid?"

Alexandria shrugged, staring down into her tea. "I'm not necessarily saying that. He's twenty years old, after all," she explained, "but… sometimes we all need someone that's willing to do something, or say something when we're acting childish. No matter how old we get." She took a sip from her tea and continued, "we all need someone looking out for us, and it sounds like he hasn't had anyone looking out for him in a long time."

That was an understatement. Four thousand years was a very long time. Had anyone been looking out for him even before his sacrifice? He'd never made it sound that way. He had probably never had someone tell him to pull his head out of his ass. Maybe it was time someone did.

"I guess that's true," Billie muttered. She sighed, shaking her head a bit and asking, "how long until he can go home?"

Alexandria reached into her pocket and pulled out her bedraggled, well loved notebook. She scanned through the pages, explaining, "I'd like to keep him in observation until the late evening."

"Alright," Billie said, "got anywhere to eat at this place?"

Several hours passed, in which Billie stopped by the institute's cafeteria and got some reading done. She had this book at home - The Lonely Rat Boy. It was the story of a boy, alive during the Dunwall rat plague. He was abused by the adults in his life, and the Outsider took pity on him, gifting him his mark. The child was able to enact revenge, summoning a swarm of rats to devour those that would abuse him -

Before being bitten by a rat himself, contracting the plague, and inevitably passing away. Not the happiest ending.

So much for a gift. Billie had seen the mark on several people, now. Daud used it to kill. Corvo used it to save his daughter and help end the rat plague. Emily used it to save her country and earn back her throne. Delilah? Well, Delilah was a crazy bitch and a tyrant. She wondered how the others felt about their mark - all she knew was that Daud hadn't exactly seen it as a gift. She wondered why, exactly, the Outsider had given out his mark in the first place. Probably some cryptic, complicated reason.

She sighed - no time to think about that now. Billie returned the book to the shelf she'd gotten it from and got up. It was time to check in on the old grump.

When she returned to observation, the doctor was already there.

"Your fever appears to have reduced enough for you to go home," Doctor Hypatia said.

The Outsider sat up in bed, throwing his legs over the side and exclaiming, "finally."

"I would recommend you slow down just a bit, Rowan," the doctor cautioned, "you're feeling better but you're still sick."

"I'm fine," he said through gritted teeth.

Billie let out a frustrated sigh, making her way into the room and saying sharply, "damn it, would you listen to the doctor!"

"I want to go home," the Outsider said quietly, avoiding Billie's eyes and staring at the floor. That was unusual behavior for him.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, "fine. Alexandria, am I okay to take him out of here?"

"Yes," Doctor Hypatia said, "all I'll say is that you should keep an eye out for the fever's return. If it comes back, please bring him back to Addermire immediately."

The Outsider got to his feet, grabbing his clothing from the nightstand and asking, "is that really necessary?"

"Yes," Billie said before Alexandria could respond, "it's necessary. Now, get dressed. Let's get you home."

After some time, he got himself dressed and met them out in the hallway. Alexandria had finished up giving Billie care instructions - rest, fluids, keep a watch for fever. Billie promised to keep a close eye on him as they loaded themselves back into the carriage to go home.

As they rode the carriage over the water, the lights from Karnaca danced in the reflection of the water. Billie was raised in Dunwall, in the gloomy, grey, and wet Flooded District. It was a stark contrast to Karnaca's brightly colored buildings, vivid nightlife and dry climate. The former deity sat across from her in the carriage, arms folded as he looked out to sea. "Rowan?" he finally asked.

"Yeah, sorry," Billie started, "you had a thermometer in your mouth when she asked."

He closed his eyes in what appeared to be annoyance. He said nothing, though. Quiet took over the carriage as they made their way back to Addermire Station. He kept his eyes shut tightly for at least another minute before saying curtly, "I never asked you for a name."

"I'm sorry," she offered, knowing that it was presumptuous of her to assume she could just toss a name out there after he'd had his own name taken away. However, it wasn't as if she'd had a choice - she didn't regret it.

The Outsider turned in his seat, opening his eyes to stare out to sea. He said nothing else. By the Void, what had crawled up his ass and died? Maybe Alexandria was right, maybe someone needed to call him out on his shit.

After they arrived at Addermire Station, they slowly made their way back home. The walk was quiet and awkward; Billie could practically feel the brooding energy just pouring off of him. They made it to the apartment, and the Outsider hastened his footsteps into the corridor. He seemed to be in a real rush to get home.

"Slow down," Billie reminded him, getting out her keys, "you're sick."

He clenched his jaw, grumbling, "I'm fine. Mind your own business."

Billie raised an eyebrow as she unlocked the door to their apartment. The Outsider pushed past her, making a beeline for his room.

"By the Void, kid, what the hell crawled up your ass?" Billie finally asked.

"Rowan is a stupid name," he grumbled, slamming his door shut and sending a loud bang echoing throughout the room. Billie raised her eyebrows just a bit at the jarring noise, staring at his door for a moment as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. This was… not the kind of behavior she had ever expected to see from him. What on earth was going on in his head?

She sighed, plopping back into the armchair by the fire. She took off her gloves and her jacket, unceremoniously tossing them to the floor. Holding her right hand out in front of her, Billie inspected it with renewed curiosity. The skin stretched taut over the hand, black with decay. She wanted to grimace at the exposed tendons and the chunks of jagged bone jutting from her wrist, but she was used to it now. What was going through his head, when he took her arm and her eye? What had he hoped to gain? Why had he done this, and not given her his mark instead?

There was still so much she didn't understand, and she couldn't very well ask him those questions now. The former deity's behavior had become erratic, and unpredictable. It honestly scared her a bit - she'd never known The Outsider to be anything but calm, and cryptic. She frankly had no idea how to handle this… childish attitude he'd suddenly acquired. Where exactly was the mysterious man that showed up in the bunk of her ship to steal her arm and her eye? When had he been replaced with a pissed off kid?

Billie tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling, considering all of the points that Alexandria had made earlier in the day. He was only human, and had gone through a horrific trauma. He'd never shown signs of his trauma when ethereal… but what about now? Now, when he was back inside the physical body in which the trauma occurred? Alexandria also made one other excellent point. He was just a kid.

And maybe he was.

The truth was, he was limited in experience. Sure, he was over four thousand years old, and she deeply respected that… but exactly how much real life experience did he have? Only so much could be learned from observing. Maybe Alexandria was right - maybe for once in his long and storied life, someone needed to treat him like the inexperienced kid he had never gotten the opportunity to be.

She sighed, slowly getting to her feet and approaching his door. Freezing for a moment, she questioned if this was really the best idea. Who was she, exactly, to try to guide anyone? Since when was she a role model? She wasn't. Billie had been many things in her life - the daughter of an alcoholic, a street urchin, a thief, an assassin, a vagabond captain with a case of wanderlust. A guide? A role model? Someone to be looked up to? By the void, no.

Who else could even begin to try, though? No one else knew his situation.

Shit, his situation. Did she even have the right to try to chastise a four thousand year old man? Because that's what he was - a man, not a kid. He had witnessed things in his several millennia of life that she couldn't even begin to fathom. He had most likely thought about things that Billie would probably never even consider. And yet, he had lived so little. His life up to this point, for the most part, had consisted of watching others live their lives.

Well, no time like the present. She sighed, hesitantly raising her fist to the door and knocking. A long pause followed, and then an agitated, "what do you want?"

"Can I come in?" Billie asked, trying to respect his privacy, despite what she had planned.

There was another long pause, before he muffled through the door, "you pay the bills, do as you wish."

Billie slowly pushed the door open and made her way inside. The former deity was perched upon his bed, staring at her blankly. It sometimes bothered her, that his face was so hard to read most of the time. The Outsider was an enigma - whenever he did feel something, Billie was completely oblivious to whatever it was.

She stared back at him for a moment, almost for an uncomfortably long time. He stared back, and Billie couldn't help but have the uncomfortable feeling that he was peering into her soul. She wasn't sure if that was true, or if she was making that up in her head due to his past. She wasn't sure about a lot of things, honestly.

The silence was palpable, and he didn't seem intent on breaking it. Billie wondered what exactly was running through his ancient mind. Did he know what she was here to do? No, that was impossible. When she'd arrived at Shindaerey Peak he'd told her himself - he couldn't see past that day. She wondered if that was terrifying, or a relief.

He continued to stare, gaze piercing through her as if daring her to speak, albeit patiently. How could someone so young looking have such an intense patience? She supposed that four millenia alone might do that to a person. She released the breath that she'd been holding for a moment, before finally blurting out, "what, exactly, has been going on with you?"

"What has been going on with me?" The Outsider echoed, face even, "have you considered that exactly what you think is happening is exactly what's actually happening?"

Billie blinked, cocking her head a bit and studying him. Cryptic little shit. For once in his wretchedly long life, couldn't he just be straight forward? She wasn't sure that anyone had ever made her want to rip her hair out like this. "What does that even mean?" Billie asked in frustration.

The former deity lightly shook his head, crossing his arms and explaining, "you overthink everything, Billie Lurk. You had no difficulty trusting your instincts while cutting down your targets in Dunwall. Why should this be any different?"

By the Void, he actually was being straightforward… in his own way. Trust her instincts? Did he know what was coming? No, not possible, at least she didn't think so. Fine, he wanted her to be straightforward and follow her instincts? Straightforward was her forte.

"Alright, you want me to follow my instincts, you grumpy old man?" Billie asked, taking a few steps closer as she folded her arms over her chest. "No one would ever know you're several millennia old, because today you acted like a spoiled little brat," she chided. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she continued, "not to mention the fact that you've obviously been hiding how sick you've been, and could have gotten yourself killed. My instincts are telling me that maybe you need someone to stop treating you like some all-knowing deity and pull your head out of your ass."

He stared at her with unblinking, jade colored eyes for a moment. Billie could have sworn she saw something spark just a bit behind his eyes at what she had said - though what, she couldn't say. "And just who is that someone? Is it you?" he asked, arms folded.

"It might as well be," Billie surmised, throwing her hands out to her sides in exasperation, exclaiming, "who else knows you're The Outsider?"

He shifted in his seat, leaning forward and weaving his fingers together, resting his elbows in his lap as he stared up at her. "How long do you plan on putting it off, then? When did you become so indecisive? Where is the Billie Lurk that helped kill the Empress?" he asked plainly.

Billie had to consciously keep her mouth from slacking open. By the Void, he knew. How? She shook her head - that didn't matter. She could figure that out later; there were more pressing matters. He almost seemed to be challenging her.

Alright. She liked a challenge.

"The woman that helped kill Jessamine Kaldwin is gone," Billie said, trying to keep the venom from seeping into her voice. She strode forward, dropping herself down next to him on the bed and grabbing his right wrist. He stared at her with seemingly steady eyes, not at all disconcerted. She wasn't sure if she had ever been more unsure of anything in her life, but that had never stopped her before.

In one fluid motion, Billie yanked him over her lap. His breath escaped him in a huff as his chest hit the bed. She pulled her hand back, bringing it down on to his backside with a loud pop. The Outsider gasped, but otherwise didn't react. She stopped, hands behind her and resting on the bed. "I won't try to make you do this. You've had the agency over your body taken from you long enough - I won't be another version of The Eyeless," she explained. If he planned on getting up, she wouldn't stop him.

He buried his face into the blankets, shrugging. After a long pause, he said quietly, "I'll stay."

Alright. What in the world was going on in his head? Why was he choosing to stay? She had a million and one questions. Billie shook her head - there was no time for that, now. He must have been choosing to stay for a reason, and she wasn't about to turn tail and run. "If you say so," she said, taking one hand and placing it onto the center of his back. The other reared back and landed a harder smack to his backside than before. He faintly gasped before clamming back up, and honestly Billie didn't know what to do from here. She supposed she should talk?

"How much of our trip to Addermire do you remember?" Billie asked, landing another spank even harder than the last. There was a poignant silence, and she wasn't having it. She swatted his thigh firmly, causing him to jolt forward and look over his shoulder at her, shooting her a rather non characteristic glare. "I expect an answer, you know," she said plainly.

The former god glared a bit longer, before turning back to bury his face into the covers. "I… remember most of it leading up to having the doctor take my temperature. The rest is fuzzy," he admitted.

This made Billie's blood boil, a bit. "So you're telling me that you actively chose to make crown killer jokes at Alexandria?" she asked, hand poised in the air.

His shoulders tensed for a moment. "Mostly?" he admitted.

Billie's hand came crashing down with a loud crack. He jolted yet again, letting out a yelp at that one. She didn't stop there, bringing her hand down repeatedly this time. "Alexandria deserves better than that bullshit," she scolded, "and the worst part is, I know you know that. What in the world made you think that was even remotely acceptable?"

"It wasn't, alright? It wasn't acceptable!" The Outsider blurted, holding still but appearing to struggle to do so. "I wasn't exactly thinking straight," he said.

She stopped for a moment, asking, "so you're saying you wouldn't have said those things without the fever?" He nodded. "You're not lying to me, are you?" she asked very seriously.

"Have I ever been one to lie?" he asked, just as seriously.

Billie sighed, "I guess not. Fine." She supposed it had been out of character. "Then let's talk about the fact that you decided to hide how sick you've been," she finally brought up.

"I only got sick today," he said, a bit too quickly.

The former captain rolled her eye, winding her hand back and landing it firmly over his backside. "So much for you not lying," she admonished. The Outsider grimaced but otherwise stayed quiet. She noted how he didn't try to argue with her on that. "Doctor Hypatia says there's no way you haven't been sick for a while. Why didn't you say anything?" she asked.

Again, silence.

Billie sighed, knowing this might become an impasse. She would have to push things further. Reaching underneath him, she unbuckled his belt and then went to work on undoing his pants. The thought of him held in the Void against his will flashed through her mind yet again, and so she reminded him, "you can say no to this."

She was not like The Eyeless.

Still, though, he stayed put. Her eyes narrowed - what was his long game, here? She was almost certain that the ancient man always had some kind of plan. What was it he wanted? Where was he going with this? Ugh, she was thinking too much. Billie wrestled his ash colored pants down to his knees, noticing a slight tensing in his muscles as she did so. She waited a moment, wanting to give him the opportunity to stop this, but that never came.

Billie reared her hand back yet again, landing it somewhat harshly against the seat of his underwear. She was determined to make an impression. The Outsider yelped loudly this time, entire body jolting forward in surprise. He shot her a glare over his shoulder, which she answered back with another sharp smack that sent him forward yet again. "You're the one that said I should follow my instincts," she explained, landing her hand repeatedly now as she spoke, "and that instinct is telling me that you've been hiding something important. Something big. What in the world is going on? Why would you lie about being sick?"

By now he was clenching the covers in his fists, burying his face into the bed in earnest. It was odd to Billie, to see the former god hiding his face away. He'd never been one to seem sheepish. Then again, it wasn't as if he'd shown himself to many people over the years. Sure, she'd seen plenty of spirits in the Void, in the ritual hold. However, in the grand scheme of things there weren't that many people there for four thousand years. How used to being genuinely seen could he truly be? Especially in such a vulnerable state.

After a long pause she realized that she'd been thinking for quite a while, and he still hadn't answered her question. "Kid," she said firmly, landing one firm smack to the undercurve of his backside, "why did you lie about being sick?"

His shoulders tensed at her words, his own words pouring from his mouth almost angrily, "it doesn't matter. None of it matters."

"None of it matters?" Billie asked, voice dripping in disbelief. Oh, no, she wasn't having this. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his underwear, giving him a moment to protest. When that protest didn't come, she yanked them down to join his pants at his knees. He tensed up at this, but made no effort to move. This was very perplexing to her, but she didn't have time to think about that at the moment. Billie landed her hand on to his backside with a resounding smack, and then another, and yet another. She kept this up as she scolded, "none of it matters? Kid, do you think I robbed a bank, snuck through an entire cult of fanatics and the Envisioned, and forced my way into the void itself to set you free because I thought it didn't matter?"

The Outsider gasped and began to display his difficulty with holding still. His hips began to squirm, and he pulled tightly on the covers in front of him. Despite that, though, he peered over his shoulder at her and said, "I believe you did most of that a-ah! With the intent to kill me, Billie Lurk. Did you really think I wasn't watching?"

Billie stopped her swing mid air, staring back into his eyes and searching for any anger. She was shocked to find that she saw none. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have listened to Daud - he was old, and bitter, and he wanted to blame you for the things he did. I should have seen that… but I… I just couldn't at the time. I was just happy to have him back," she admitted.

"These are all things I already know," he said, breathing heavily in an attempt to catch his breath. "Don't misunderstand me, I'm not angry," the Outsider muttered.

Billie shook her head, voice hard and confused, "how are you not pissed?"

"Once you live for as long as I have, where I have," he began, pausing for a moment. A long moment. She stayed silent, letting him finish his thought. He eventually spoke, "death begins to look like mercy."

"Oh," Billie said quietly, not knowing what else to say. She wanted to scold him, tell him not to think that way… but after seeing his fate, she couldn't blame him. After all, it wasn't as if Billie herself hadn't silently begged for death before in her life, and she hadn't seen even a fraction of the agony that he had.

After a long silence, he said softly, "I knew you would save me. I just didn't know if I was getting out alive. I was… alright with that."

Another moment of silence passed before Billie sighed. "As much as I appreciate you telling me all of this, it doesn't answer my question," she said, before asking, "why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

Silence.

Billie rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration before she pulled her hand back and landed it firmly yet again on to his backside. He gasped loudly, letting out a grunt and yanking on the covers, but still didn't answer the question. She was growing tired of this very quickly, what a child. "Listen to me, young man," she said sternly, sending his body rigid, "you are going to tell me why you didn't tell me you were sick, or you're going to stay here over my knee all damn night. I don't care what it takes, I'm not letting this happen again." She moved the spanking down to the undercurves of his bottom as she scolded, spanking harder here.

He let out a small whimper, a sound that Billie never expected to hear from him. She pushed things further, landing several firm pops to his thighs and asking, "am I clear?"

"A-Ah! Yes, yes! Fine! You're clear!" he cried out, biting down on his lip and finally muttering, "maybe saving me was a mistake."

She stopped mid swing yet again, feeling her chest twist just a bit. "A mistake…?" Billie muttered, "why do you say that?"

Yet again, silence.

Billie sighed - stubborn old man. She resumed where she'd left off, spanking quicker now as she landed multiple smacks evenly across his bottom, undercurves and thighs. "Getting yourself killed isn't going to help anyone," she said, voice hard.

He began to squirm over her lap, appearing to have a much harder time holding still. Eventually his hand flew back to try to cover his backside, to which she took his wrist in her hand and pinned it to his side. He growled, burying his face into the covers of his bed and kicking his feet into the bed. Still, he made no effort to pull away. Alright, then. Billie picked the spanking back up, keeping his wrist pinned to his side as she unleashed a firm flurry of spanks over his backside and undercurves. "Young man, I expect an answer. Why did you say that? What's going on that I don't know?" she tried, doing her best to sound firm but not cold. This was easier said than done for her - cold was her specialty.

The Outsider kicked his feet into the bed harder, before saying seemingly calmly, voice wavering in just the slightest way, "...I've been having dreams."

Billie finally stopped, resting her hand on his back and asking, "dreams? What kind of dreams?" If anyone else had told her that, she would brush it off… but this was the damn Outsider. She couldn't begin to fathom what he could still be capable of.

"About the future. Dreams about the future," he said quietly, shoulders slumping, "how is it you think I saw this coming?"

A lot suddenly made sense. Though, one would think that seeing his spanking coming would make him more likely to try to avoid it. Oh well, that was a question for another time. "Exactly what kind of dreams about the future…?" she asked

"Sometimes it's just normal things - what you'll make for dinner, the fact that I'm going to come across a stray cat, things like that. But…" he paused.

She frowned, "but…?"

"But sometimes…" he paused again before continuing, "sometimes it's nightmares."

Billie let go of his wrist, taking that hand and laying it on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "What kind of nightmares?" she asked slowly, beginning to worry about the answer. If it was worrying him of all people, it was more than enough to cause her concern.

"Murder, things I read about in the paper in the next few days," he muttered, pulling his arms in front of himself and burying his face in to them. "I don't… understand. Why am I having these dreams if I can do nothing about them? I can't save these people - there's never enough information. So, why?"

That was troubling. It appeared that he wasn't completely severed from the Void after all. Would he ever be? "I wish I knew the answer to that, but I don't. I'm sorry." She squeezed his shoulder again, putting a stern voice back on, "but I do know that keeping it to yourself and suffering alone helps no one, including you and me. Got it?"

"I'm sorry," he said, voice uncharacteristically small. She almost didn't recognize him. His mood was beginning to shift into something she had never pictured the Outsider portraying - he was small, unsure, scared. He was used to knowing everything, and he didn't understand this - no one did. She understood his fear.

She was scared too. What did this mean? There was no time for her fear, now. He was priority - she'd silently made him her responsibility when she'd brought him with her out of the Void.

"Look, it's alright, just… don't lie to me again. Okay?" she asked, voice hardening. She meant business - she couldn't help him if he lied to her.

He nodded slowly, before asking somewhat brokenly, "what if I'm somehow responsible for these murders…? What if me leaving the Void somehow-"

"No," Billie interrupted, squeezing his shoulder again and promising, "if there's anything I've learned from you and Daud, it's that people make their own decisions. Their choices are their own. This isn't on you."

There was a very long silence, followed by a quiet, "I'll try to believe you."

"Thank you," she said, unable to mask the relief in her voice. After a moment she finally said, "there's more, isn't there? Why didn't you want to tell me you were sick?"

Silence.

Billie sighed and pulled her hand back, landing it firmly onto his backside once. "C'mon kid, no more hiding things from me. Talk."

The Outsider yelped loudly this time, appearing to struggle with muting himself, now. His shoulders tensed and his voice went watery. "It's… all my fault. So much suffering, I… I could have stopped, but I didn't," he admitted.

"What do you mean, it's all your fault?" she asked cautiously.

He buried his face further into his arms, muscles throughout his entire body rigid with stress. She had never seen him like this before. "You saw them, didn't you?" he asked gravely, "the souls in the Ritual Hold? Fading, flickering in and out, confused and suffering."

"I remember them," Billie said slowly, halting her hand and asking, "but how is that your fault?"

He looked over his shoulder at her, eyes harder than she was used to seeing. "How is that my fault? I'm the one that put them there," he said, voice as hard as his gaze.

"What do you mean? Because you gave them your mark?" she asked.

The Outsider shut his eyes tightly, the lines in his face tense with pain. He whipped his head back around and buried his face back into his arms. "The first few times, I didn't understand what was happening. I didn't… know why, why they were trapped in there with me after they died," he explained. He took a deep breath, shoulders tensing further as he spoke, "eventually, I realized it was my mark. I… I gave them my name, and because of that they would be stuck in the ritual hold with me."

She could see that he was becoming unstable. Billie squeezed his shoulder supportively, not wanting him to feel like she was accusing him of anything. "So," she began slowly, trying to encourage him to continue, "why did you keep giving out your mark, then?"

Shaking his head, the former deity clammed right up. He screwed his mouth shut and covered his head with his arms. Whatever his reasoning was, it was obviously a heavy burden on him. What reason, she wondered, had he had for continuing to give out his mark? It was no doubt complicated, and most likely mysterious and cryptic just like him. Either way, holding it inside wasn't going to do him any good, and that was obvious at this point.

Billie sighed, pulling her hand back and landing a quick flurry of hard smacks to the undercurve of his backside, wanting to get her point across quickly. "C'mon, now is no time to be a stubborn old man," she said sternly, "you hold this shit in any longer, you're gonna implode in on yourself."

He yelped loudly at the sudden barrage to his backside, kicking one leg out and jolting forward. The Outsider shook his head from side to side avidly, eliciting a deep sigh from the former assassin. Billie landed two good, firm pops to both thighs at this, trying a different approach by hardening her voice and saying simply, "young man."

He kicked harder at that, a small growl escaping from him before he finally cried out, "I was lonely, alright!?"

Billie stopped mid swing, brain trying to compute what he'd just said. "What?" she asked, still not quite understanding. She had expected something so complicated, mysterious, even. He was lonely? That was it?

"I was alone!" he shouted, now, through grit teeth. "I knew, I knew I wouldn't even be able to go speak to them in the ritual hold. It's the one part of the Void that was inaccessible to me, but I thought it was better to have them in the void, anywhere in the void with me, rather than be in there alone. I spent four thousand years collecting souls like a child collects toys, and Daud was one of those toys. Be angry, Billie Lurk! You should despise me! Don't you realize that?"

Billie had to take a moment to think - this was a lot to swallow. Part of her had an immediate knee jerk reaction that wanted to hate him, now having this knowledge. Daud was not a toy - those people were not toys. How dare he? A portion of her wanted to shove him off of her lap as if he were on fire, the very thought of his reasoning sickening her to the core. Just as she almost succumbed to that initial instinct, she looked down at him. His arms wrapped around the back of his head tightly, shoulders and back tense. His entire body shook so slightly that she almost missed it, but it was there. He was waiting for the blow - not the physical blow, but the emotional one.

He was waiting for her to say she hated him.

Thinking back to her time on the streets, and her loss of Deidre, Billie realized that there were many things she'd done in her loneliness that she now regretted… things that she knew would be held against her harshly, now. She remembered the night she brought Emily back to Dunwall - the cold air and the spray of the frigid sea brushing against her face as she admitted her failings to the Empress. She had helped Daud kill her mother, been part of the team that had her held against her will at the Golden Cat when she was just a fragile, ten year old girl.

Emily could have killed her then, and she would have let her. Instead, she chose to let her live… just like Daud had fifteen years prior to that. Her life had been filled with people showing her mercy, and it was partially why she chose to rescue the Outsider from his prison in the Void, to begin with.

The things he had done, the people he had forced into the Void with him - her sins didn't match in intensity to what he had done, no… but she was beginning to see just how human he truly was.

He always had been.

He'd just been a kid when he'd been sacrificed, and he'd reacted like a kid would. Could she really fault him for coping the best he could with a situation that she couldn't even fathom being in? Yes, she could. Part of her was still angry. But she understood it. She could forgive it.

After what felt like far too long of a pause, she finally spoke, saying quietly, "I don't hate you."

"...What?" he asked, almost sounding angry.

Billie shook her head, "if you're looking for someone to hate you, to punish you for what you did, you've got the wrong person."

"How can you say such things after the information I just departed on to you? Don't you want your revenge for Daud, Billie Lurk?" He stared at her over his shoulder, green eyes wide with pain as he spoke, "the man that scraped you from the Dunwall streets after the murder of your beloved - I gave him the power to save or destroy the world around him in return for what? An eternity of suffering alongside me in the Void! Why won't you do something?!"

She sighed - he was trying to provoke her, it was painfully obvious. Maybe he was less mysterious than she'd previously thought. Billie pulled her hand back and landed it firmly over the center of his backside with a resounding smack. He cried out in surprise and pulled on the covers in front of him. "What exactly do you expect from me?" she asked, "you've been watching me, possibly all my life, and you expect me to hate you? I feel like you should know me better than this." She brought her hand down repeatedly, spreading an even burn across his backside, under curves and thighs as she scolded, "you want to be punished so bad? This is the worst you're going to get from me. And let me make one thing clear, it's not because I hate you. If you want that from me, you're going to be disappointed."

The Outsider yelped and began to kick at the sudden barrage to his bare skin, yanking harder on the sheets in front of him. "I don't want you to hate me!" he finally exclaimed, "it just seems the obvious choice!"

"Well, surprise," Billie said, shrugging. She wound her hand back and swatted his under curves with extra strength, now, sending him jolting forward and crying out. "So let me make sure I understand. You let yourself get sick because… you're guilty?" she asked, wanting to make sure she was understanding him right. There was a very long silence, followed by the slightest shrug of his shoulders.

That was really it?

She felt something in her chest twist, thinking back to the past few weeks of nightmares he'd been having, the long hours of silence where he would say nothing - he was suffering in silence because he thought he deserved to. Billie thought back to this morning when they were walking through the rain. He'd been sick, for a while, and she'd had him walking through the rain at a snail's pace! He'd just put up with it too, because… he felt he deserved it.

This couldn't keep happening.

"I'm not going to punish you for what happened in the Void. You coped the best you could for the situation you were in, and I'd be a stone cold bitch to think otherwise," Billie said, hand crashing down relentlessly as she spoke. She reached with her free hand as she spanked, squeezing his shoulder and saying firmly, "but you can fucking bet I'm going to punish you for letting yourself get so sick that you could have died."

The Outsider's shoulders hitched for a moment, body shaking. "But I, I hurt so many peo- a-AH!" he cried out as Billie landed an especially hard smack to his right thigh.

"I don't care if you thought you deserved it," she said sternly, "I don't like to admit shit like this, but you matter to me, kid. If you ever put yourself in danger like that again, you're going to find yourself right back here, over my knee, is that clear?" She punctuated her point with several rapidfire smacks to his undercurves.

He seemed to hold his breath for a moment, before letting out a long and drawn out sob, albeit quietly. "Y-You're clear! I swear it, you're clear!" he promised, voice watery and breaking.

Billie almost stopped right there, the sob ripping through her in ways she didn't understand, just yet. His muscles were still as tense as bowstrings, and something in her told her to keep going - to push harder. "Good," she said approvingly, squeezing his shoulder again as she landed a few good pops to the center of his backside. "I don't want anything to happen to you," she muttered, not used to saying things like that out loud. However, after her loss of Deidre and Daud, and almost losing Sokolov, she was learning to say things out loud before it was too late.

His sob became longer, louder, teetering between a wail and a strained whine. Finally, his muscles went slack, sending him limp over her lap as the sobs wracked his body. Billie thought if there was ever a time to stop, it was now. She halted, resting her hand on his lower back and rubbing in slow circles, waiting to see his reaction. He stayed limp, letting out more loud wails as he pulled the covers over his head. She sighed, seeing his sudden need to be unseen. This level of vulnerability was something that he was probably experiencing for the first time in almost four millennia.

Billie didn't attempt to remove the blanket, wanting to give him whatever level of control he needed in this situation. She looked down at the results of the spanking, wincing at how red and swollen it looked. She hoped she hadn't overdone it - this hand he'd replaced her hand with was oddly stronger than the original. Reaching down, she gently pulled his underwear back up into place to afford him more modesty. He flinched at the action, so she left the rest as it was.

"Kid, c'mon up here, okay?" she said, pitching her voice to the gentler tone she'd used at Addermire earlier in the day. He didn't seem to hear her, too deeply buried in his own misery. She sighed, pulling on his shoulders until he was sitting up next to her, flinching as his backside hit the mattress. He hunched over, head still covered with the blanket as his shoulders heaved with grief. Without honestly thinking too deeply into it, Billie reached over and brought him into her arms, squeezing him tightly.

At first he tensed again, appearing to feel unsure of how to react. A long moment passed, and right as Billie was about to let go, he leaned into the embrace, blanket and all. Billie let out a small breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. He slowly unwrapped his arms from over his head, allowing the blanket to fall off. He buried his face into her shoulder, going limp against her and only sobbing harder, much to her surprise. She reached up and gently ruffled his hair, saying quietly, "You're going to be okay, kiddo."

Billie frowned when she saw that actually made him cry harder. He slowly reached up with both hands, clutching her shirt in his hands. "Don't, don't leave, I - I d-don't want to be alone a-again!" his words came out in panicked hitches, desperation apparent.

She wrapped both arms back around him, hugging him against her tighter as she promised, "I'm not leaving, I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry I lied, I'm sorr-" he stuttered.

Billie shushed him softly, saying bluntly, "no more sorries, it's done with." She ran her hand up the length of his back and squeezed his shoulder.

He seemed to try to get closer then, clinging on tighter when she squeezed. She was still in a bit of awe, unsure of how to handle the four thousand year old former deity hanging on to her for dear life.

Billie felt completely out of her depth. Just another day with the Outsider, she supposed.

She simply held him as he hung on tightly, feeling that it wasn't the time to let go. This old man, no, this kid was terrified. "I'm not going anywhere," she reminded him again, voice gentler than she was used to. He let out a hiccup, followed by a whine, leaning the bulk of his weight into her as he cried. She wondered if the Outsider had ever had moments like this, alone in the Void. When was the last time he had anyone to depend on?

Suddenly, a watery voice came, muffled from her shoulder, "Rowan isn't such a stupid name."

Billie blinked, chuckling a bit and saying, "it's a family name."

"I know," he said plainly as he sniffled, occasionally shuddering with a sudden resurfacing sob. Of course he knew.

"You can use it, if you want to," she offered nonchalantly, not expecting much of a response.

There was a long pause, before the Outsider nodded his head avidly in agreement and let out a choked sob. Another followed soon after, followed by a renewed storm of tears that the former assassin hadn't seen coming. She pulled him in closer again, now seeing the effects of him gaining his first name in four thousand years. This was a massive deal to him - she felt so stupid. She should have known that giving him a name would have been such a big deal. His entire body shook as he said, "I'm sorry, I didn't expect to be getting a name today…"

"Don't be sorry," Billie hurried to say, before saying quietly, "I know it's a lot. But, it's yours to have if you want it."

"I want it," he rushed, "I w-want it." The tears were still flowing - Billie could tell from how increasingly wet her shirt was becoming. Oh well, she didn't panic from a bit of rain this morning, she wasn't going to now.

The former assassin reached up with one hand yet again, gently ruffling his hair and promising, "you're going to be okay, Rowan."

This broke him. A shallow whine, followed by a deep, loud sob ripped from his throat. She thought that might happen. Billie petted his hair back with one hand, squeezing him closely with her other arm as she said, "I know, I'm sorry you went that long without a name. It wasn't right. What they did to you was fucked up, kid." Rowan seemed to hold his breath for another moment, before his sobs became wails and he weakly nodded his head.

"That's right," Billie encouraged when he nodded his head, "it was fucked up. You didn't deserve it, you hear me, Rowan? You didn't deserve it."

The Outsider threw both arms around her neck at this, burying his face into the crook and continuing to sob loudly. His body was tense, telling Billie something very important.

"No, you didn't deserve it," she repeated, "you weren't even two decades old, there's nothing you could have done that would have been worthy of what they did to you. You hear me?" No answer. "Look at me," she said.

No response.

She gently peeled him off of her, holding him away from her just a bit by his upper arms. His eyes stayed clenched shut, hands searching for something to cling back on to. "Rowan," she tried, more gently this time, "look at me."

He slowly cracked open eyes, emerald irises surrounded by angry, red blood vessels. He stared at her through tired, puffy eyelids. She grabbed his chin with one hand, the hum of the Void emanating from it. "You. Did not. Deserve. What they did to you, Rowan," Billie said firmly.

Rowan stared at her through curtains of tears, body trembling. "But-" he started.

"No," Billie interrupted, tightening her grip on his chin and saying more firmly, "they had no excuse for what they did to you. There's nothing you could have done in less than two decades of life to deserve that. You were innocent. Do you hear me, Rowan?"

The Outsider's face twisted into a renewed sob, but he still nodded, mouthing "alright," silently.

Billie let out a relieved sigh, pulling him back into her arms and into a tight hug. Rowan threw his arms back around her neck, burying his face back into the crook. He seemed unable to stop the tears for now, but Billie figured that some of these feelings had been built up for four thousand years. She supposed they couldn't be easy to stop now that they were flowing. She held him closer, and before she could even think about it she found herself rocking him from side to side

The former deity melted into her hold at this, crying a bit softer. She kept rocking, unsure of where this sudden surge of maternal energy was coming from, but choosing not to question it too much for right now. She could deal with that later. The longer she rocked, the softer the crying became, which made it a little easier for her to breathe. She was not used to this side of the Outsider - she didn't necessarily mind it, but she wasn't used to it and it made her uneasy that she would inevitably fuck up this new confidence that he'd bestowed upon her.

Eventually the tears dried up, and the cries had died down to an occasional sniffle and hiccup. He leaned against her exhaustedly, audibly struggling to breathe through his nose. Billie reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. She dried his face, causing him to freeze at first, though he said nothing - she wondered what that meant, but left it be for now. Billie finished cleaning his face, before handing him the handkerchief. He took it slowly, pulling away slowly and looking at her cautiously as if he'd just fully realized everything that had happened.

Billie saw this caution and uncertainty, asking tentatively, "you okay?"

Rowan nodded slowly, blowing his nose into the handkerchief and saying quietly, "yes."

She could feel him beginning to pull away again. Before he could completely close off, she asked carefully, "Rowan? Why… did you never give me your mark?"

He blinked in a bit of shock, seemingly surprised by the question. There was a long silence as he stared into her eyes - she could see the cogs turning in his mind. After what felt like an eternity, he sighed, balling up the handkerchief in his hands as he said, "I considered it."

"Really?" Billie asked, stunned. "What made you change your mind?" she asked, unsure if she felt hurt that he never chose her.

Another long pause. "I grew tired of collecting 'toys'. I just… couldn't do it anymore," he said plainly. He looked down, saying quietly, "the last thing the Void needed was yet another discarded street urchin."

She softened instantly at that. He was saying that he related to her. Billie never thought the Outsider himself would tell her that, yet here they were. She sighed, reaching out and ruffling his hair. He blinked, "what was that for?"

"You're a good kid," Billie said simply.

Rowan stared at her for a moment, before gazing back down at the floor. "I'm tired," he said suddenly, voice reacquiring a watery tone.

Billie could see that what she'd said had affected him. She nodded, "yeah, I bet you are." he had been sick to begin with, and she was sure what he'd just been through was exhausting as well. "C'mon then, bed," she said, pulling back his covers and gesturing for him to get under the covers.

He raised an eyebrow at her for a moment, pausing for a long while before getting up. He didn't bother to pull up his pants, wincing a bit as he moved. Rowan laid down on his side, flinching yet again and rolling over to lay on his stomach. Billie felt a bit bad that he was still in pain, but maybe he would think of that the next time he considered putting his life in danger. She gently pulled the blankets up and over him, before sitting on the crate next to his bed.

Rowan looked up at her curiously, as if asking why she was still there. "What? You think I'm going to just beat the crap out of you and just leave?" she asked, incredulously.

"I just pictured this all ending much differently," he said quietly.

"That's right, you dreamed some of this, didn't you?" Billie asked. He had inferred it earlier, which partially explained his willingness.

Partially.

"Yes," Rowan said hesitantly, "a few days ago."

"Days?" Billie asked, "you've known for days?"

"Yes," Rowan said again, frowning, "it was… a confusing few days," he admitted, closing his eyes.

Wow. Yeah, she was sure that was most definitely a very confusing few days. She couldn't help herself - she wanted to know, and he seemed far less mysterious right now. "Why did you allow it to happen?" she asked quietly.

A very long silence passed between them. Billie found herself assuming that he had no intention of answering her question, and she wasn't going to push it. Today, she had gotten more information, more straightforwardness from the Outsider than she'd gotten in over fifteen years. She wasn't about to ruin that by pushing and breaking his trust in her.

"I had hoped you would punish me for my collection of souls, expected you to hate me," he admitted, voice very small. He added, "but perhaps that was misguided."

Shit, she'd been right about that? Poor kid. "Very misguided," she agreed, not pressing him further than that.

"Also I -" Rowan paused, stopping mid sentence.

Billie waited silently, wondering what other reason he could have possibly had.

"Nevermind," he backtracked, appearing to begin to withdraw back in on himself.

She tried to stick her foot in the metaphorical door before it shut completely. "You were going to tell me; maybe you should follow your instincts," Billie said, echoing what he'd said to her before his spanking.

"I just…" Rowan started body appearing to tense under the covers. "I've never had…" he tried, screwing his eyes shut uncomfortably and pausing again.

Billie gently prodded, "never had what?" A spanking?

"A mother," he said, just below his breath. Before Billie could fully process what he'd said, he flipped over in bed to face the wall. "Please disregard what I just said," he said, sounding serious in his plea.

A mother? She'd never expected this. This seemed pretty important, and so she asked, "are you sure you don't want to, I don't know, talk about that?"

"No, I-I don't - I can't," Rowan stuttered, body tense.

Billie nodded quickly, agreeing, "okay." She wasn't going to push. She didn't know much, but she did know that Rowan's life before becoming a deity was hellish. If he said he couldn't talk about it, then she was going to listen. Billie reached out and squeezed his shoulder, saying bluntly, "do yourself a favor and unclench your jaw. We don't have to talk about it."

A long moment passed with no change, and Billie kept her hand where it was, squeezing a bit more firmly. Eventually she felt his muscles loosen up, and so she let go. He turned back around to face her, this time. Rowan stared up at her with such intensity that it was as if he was staring right into her. "You're more perplexing than I once thought, Billie Lurk," he said quietly, before closing his eyes.

"And you're less perplexing than I thought, Rowan," Billie admitted. She reached out and ruffled his hair, offering, "if you don't want me to stick around while you fall asleep, I can go work on dinner."

Rowan stiffened up momentarily before relaxing, cracking one eye open as she ruffled. "I didn't say you had to leave," he said quietly.

Oh, well, she was capable of reading between the lines. She settled back down on the crate, prepared to stay until he was asleep. He seemingly settled at this, closing both eyes again and melting down into his bed. Billie watched in awe as sleep swiftly took him. Poor kid, must have been one hell of a day.

She got up slowly after about five minutes, trying not to wake him. He never stirred, deep, deep in sleep. Billie did her best to walk quietly to the door - purposely avoiding the creaky floorboard to the left of the door. The former assassin left the room in perfect silence, carefully shutting the door behind her.

By the Void, that had been an experience.

She wandered into the kitchen grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the counter and opening it. Billie put it to her lips and swallowed one big gulp, but then stopped. Something was giving her pause. He'd said that one of the reasons he allowed the spanking to happen was that he'd never had a mother.

He wouldn't talk about it at the time, but she knew that could only mean one thing. He saw her as a potential maternal figure.

Well, that was fucking terrifying.

She frowned distastefully down at the bottle of whiskey in her hand. She thought back to the less than fantastic qualities of her father, and found herself setting the whiskey back down on the counter.

She didn't want any more.