Billy came here to escape.
He came here because the feeling of warm fabric in his hands was so comforting… Because the scent of freshly laundered clothing was so different from the stink of chemicals from the lab.
He came here because the police were searching for Dr Horrible and this was the last place they'd look for him.
He came here because it reminded him of her and he liked that. And today was a kind of tribute. He wasn't deluded enough to make any excuses for her death. He'd chosen the location to confront Hammer after all. He'd put her in danger when he'd hijacked that van for the wonderflonium. He'd been making conscious decisions all along that led to her inevitable… demise? Murder?
He came here because Hammer used a dry cleaning place half way across town and he'd never run into that jackass in here.
He came here because he needed time to think - he needed some space before he threw in his lot with the ELE.
Mainly, he'd come here today because he'd bought a packet of fabric dye on a whim and he was getting really fed up of scrubbing out the stains from the white cloth.
Billy bundled his coat into the washer and poured the dye in with it, looking around surreptitiously in case anyone saw him. He wasn't afraid of being identified as Dr Horrible. People seemed to have a blind spot when he was out of costume. Even though his face had been plastered across every newspaper and magazine this past week, he'd never once been stopped by anyone in the street or recognised. How ironic that Hammer was the only one who'd ever seen through him right away.
Pushing the coat deep into the machine, Billy blinked nervously. No, he wouldn't be recognised. But he was pretty sure that if someone saw him trying to machine-dye his coat, they'd call the manager. He thought that it probably wasn't allowed.
Slamming the lid shut, Billy allowed himself a secret smirk. The cotton would take the dye well, he was certain, but the buttons and the stitching were both plastic and so would stay white. He didn't know if he'd have to replace the buttons to go with the black boots and gauntlet-gloves. The caduceus would probably be screwed though… but who cared? He let out a sigh. It irritated him that he did care.
The costume still mattered to him, even when everything else didn't. After all, he didn't want to look stupid!
Hoisting himself up onto the washing machine while it began its cycle, Billy considered that perhaps all of this was just a diversion, just stopping him from having to think about other, more important things?
What would a red coat really matter (even a totally awesome red coat!) in the scheme of things? He got out his iPhone. In five minutes he'd be getting the cowboy-call, formally inviting him into the ELE.
There was never any doubt he'd say yes.