(semi-)closed;

[notarat]

Who: Billy and others.
What:
When: At various points after the town meeting.
Where: Around Milton.

Content Warnings: Mentions of homophobia, murder, identity theft and cannibalism.

( various starters for post-town meeting talks in the comments! i'm totally open to threading out stuff with more people, just hit me up through a pm to this journal or hit me up on plurk at queeningsquare!)

Comments

for hickey!

[notarat]

Today may just have been the most stressful day in his life. Which is saying a lot, given the very long streak of stressful days he's had back home before he ended up here-- or, you know, the entire period where the sun was just gone and everyone was devolving into utter chaos in town not even that long ago. But it's definitely his most stressful day recently. A part of him can't even believe that somehow the results of the town meeting ended up the way they did, even if he is relieved for it. He doesn't want to think about how far some people in town would have been willing to take the punishments, after all.

He isn't sure if his own little speech helped, but at least the result makes it feel like it wasn't for nothing. Which is a good thing, because he hates it the whole way through. In fact, Billy feels so antsy about it that the moment the results have been announced and the town meeting is over, he's already moving over towards Hickey to get the other man to leave with him right then and there. Billy doesn't want to remain there for a moment longer than absolutely necessary, especially when there are a few people he so does not want to face with the knowledge of what he just made public information.

Even by the time they make it back to their house and what feels like relative safety, Billy's hands are still lightly trembling from the adrenaline and nerves. And while there is a lot to be said to Hickey right now, the first thing he's able to say it's just: "I can't believe any of that just happened."

Actually, he would love to wake up and find out it was all just some nightmare, thanks.

Re: for hickey!

[friendsfordinner]

Hickey stays quiet when the results are announced. Though as Billy moves over towards him to get them the hell out of there, Hickey visibly relaxes. He's not getting in trouble? He's not being punished? Truth be told, Hickey thought he was fucked the moment Sveta mentioned that he lied to her. Say what you will about the Darkwalker, that's something a little different from what he did.

He keeps replaying the testimony in his head as he and Billy make their way back to their house. Billy's hands are trembling from adrenaline, Hickey's just staring at nothing, an expression of disbelief on his face. Billy's words snap him out of that near-fugue state.

"They're scared," Hickey says, with a little chuckle and a shake of his head. "All those idiots might talk big about being practical, about how we should focus on what benefits the group instead of punishing people. But it's all just smoke and mirrors to hide that they're scared."

It's obvious that Hickey's still a little tense, still a little off-kilter from the results of the trial. But one thing has become very obvious to him: play it right and you can get away with murder.

Hmm. Nobody tell Rorschach that.

[notarat]

Billy lets out a frustrated little sigh, turning his head to actually look over at the other man.

"Christ, is that what you are thinking about right now?" It shouldn't be surprising. It's the sort of thing Hickey always says, even in the face of these things. But it's a little more frustrating when Billy has just spent all that time in worry and fear, only to be met by words like these. "Crozier seemed as if he was ready to call together a group to lynch you with his own hands on the spot!"

It's one of the many reasons Billy wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. You never know when someone is going to decide they actually don't like the outcome of the group vote at all and try to take matters into their own hands. Rorschach tried to do the same thing before, after all.

The frustration is obvious in Billy's voice as he speaks, but it's all born from the worry that fuels him. They're born still wound up.

"Who knows how the results might have ended up if I hadn't spoken up."

Not that he necessarily thinks he's all that convincing, but.. who knows, it might have won Hickey a few sympathy votes. Especially when the alternative was letting Crozier's words stand on their own without contest.

"You could have been dead now."

[friendsfordinner]

Hickey matches Billy's frustration with insistence. But based on the tenseness in his shoulders, that not-entirely-there expression on his face, he's not saying these words because he thinks Billy is wrong. He's saying these words because his mind is in ten different places at once and saying these things out loud, putting them in order, helps more than he realizes.

"But I'm not dead," he points out. "None of us are. Christ, that Wake bloke was caught mutilating bodies. The results would have been the same. They're not going to change unless someone does something very drastic."

There's a pause before, "Not that I plan on doing anything, of course."

And that's true. Why would he do anything drastic? He's got himself. His mates. And he knows what they need to do if something like that, if something where the Darkwalker shows up again happens. He just needs to hide the body better.

[notarat]

It's a good thing Hickey decided to add that part about not planning on doing anything there, because Billy was definitely already starting to give him a look after the mention of drastic. He likes to think that Hickey knows better than to immediately do something again right now, but-- then again, experience has proven that Hickey just can't seem to figure out what the logical thing to do is in certain situations.

He also knows that telling the other to not do anything doesn't help either. So Billy does the only thing he can do here - take in a deep breath, desperately attempting to shake off some of the nerves and fear before it manifests as flames. He's already feeling so hot right now. It's not a good sign.

.. still, there's some other parts of what happened that he can't overlook either. And while he's still in this mood, they shoot to the front of his mind practically instantly.

"Cornelius Hickey, then." He looks directly at the other man as he says the words. "What was with that?"

Oh, Billy is smart enough to put it together. Crozier mentioned not only the name to Billy personally during that meeting, but even before that he had already said he's murdered because he didn't want to do the paperwork to get himself aboard a ship. Honestly, Billy had already figured that Hickey likely faked his experience to get on the expedition, given his initial lack of knowledge of very basic boat and navy things, but apparently there sure was more to than than he ever imagined.

But despite figuring it out-- he wants to hear it from the other's mouth.

"And don't try telling me that Crozier was lying."

[friendsfordinner]

Hmm. How the hell is he going to explain this to Billy? Because honestly, this is something Hickey hasn't thought about before. Truth be told, Hickey thought that he would be Cornelius Hickey and not have to explain this to anyone. But thanks for that, Crozier. He really didn't want to talk about this.

So Hickey frowns for a moment, thinking to himself, before he decides to go about this as carefully as possible.

"You know that I joined up just to go to Oahu, right? To leave the ship and desert when we got somewhere close to warm. Well, by the time that the ship was going to leave, they already had their full crew." Which is why he couldn't just join up, Crozier. He has this story and he's sticking to it.

"Man named Cornelius Hickey was the one who told me about this trip to begin with. About the ship's voyage. So I dabbed him and left him drowned in a canal."

It's identity theft. That's what was with that.

[notarat]

Well, that confirms his suspicions after what Crozier had said at the town meeting. And it's not even like the entire thing is entirely surprising, given that Billy knows very well by now that Hickey's preferred method for problem solving very often seems to be a knife - somewhere between what happened to him, what happened to Irving and the man he murdered and cannibalized to end up on trial here in the first place. It seems like that wasn't just a habit that was started on the expedition.

Maybe he should be concerned about that. But if it was something that would make Billy quit his involvement with the other man, then he would have stayed away from him long ago. He did still accept his ring even after a kidnapping, he did still wear said ring even after Hickey was a proven murderer.

This doesn't change that. In fact - Hickey can likely notice, since Billy doesn't seem very shocked at the reveal at all. He doesn't even bring that specific part of it all up when he speaks up. No, instead his problem seems to be--

"And you never told me?"

-- something else entirely, huh.

"You let me call you by a dead man's name for years. Christ-- Even while we were intimate!" One might wonder if this really is the biggest problem here.

But it truly is to Billy, okay. Let him have his priorities. Why would he get mad on behalf of a man who was murdered years ago and Billy never knew, when he can instead be annoyed for personal reasons?

"I defended you in front of the entire town and told them we are married, and all this time I didn't even know your name."

[friendsfordinner]

"Because it doesn't matter," Hickey says. He has absolutely no idea if this makes sense to Billy. But in his mind? It makes total sense.

"The man I was before Cornelius Hickey died when that other man did. D'you think I'd have come up with that whole scheme if I cared about things like that, about something as simple as a name? My name is Cornelius Hickey. Who I was before doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is the here and now."

Hickey places pride on his adaptability. On his ability to see the situation and shift to better fit it. As far as he's concerned, this is just the same. He had to be Cornelius Hickey in order to get his shot at what he deserves so fine, he'll shed his previous life like a snake sheds it's skin and be Cornelius Hickey. It's easy. It's simple.

"If anyone called me by that former name, don't think I would even answer to it."

[notarat]

It really doesn't seem to make sense to Billy, judging by how confused his expression turns the more Hickey talks about this.

Not that he thinks the other is lying. He likes to think he can tell by now when Hickey is telling him a lie, and this isn't one. He seems too weirdly serious about it as he speaks for it to all be fake - but that makes it even more confusing. At least if it was a lie, Billy could dismiss it as that much. What is he supposed to do with Hickey apparently being that okay with taking over someone else's life? It's not even that Billy himself has a particular attachment to names-- he doesn't come from some good important family.

But there's still some importance in names. It's not like he goes around letting everyone around call him Billy the way he lets Hickey. It means something to him.

"You truly don't mind what you are called at all then?"

for ned!

[notarat]

Granted, Billy feels very awkward about having been so open about his relationship in front of practically the entire town for a myriad of reasons. There are plenty of people he's not too sure he'd like to have found out about it, especially not this way.

But he will also readily admit there are two people right at the top of the list of people he did not want to find out about this. And he knows they were there at the town meeting, so they heard it. All of it.

It just gives him a new excuse entirely to avoid both the lieutenants like the devil. Irving is the worse possibility to run into, sure, but Billy does not imagine Little will be particularly more kind about it.

.. then again, he does not expect either of them to come talk to them about it. Billy realised Hickey was right about Irving, and that the other would gladly avoid anything he doesn't have to talk about when it comes to this, and Little-- Well, considering he's kind of a wet dog of a person, Billy doesn't imagine he will find the inner strength to address it.

Which means that he doesn't expect the knock on the door of his and Hickey's shared home to belong to either of them. He isn't sure who it could be either, but at least it shouldn't be the lieutenants, right. He's a little awkward to open up in the light of the recent town meeting, but just in case it's someone Billy does like, he bothers to do the polite thing and answer the door.

Only for his face to grow as white as a sheet when he realises who's standing there.

.. it's too late to just.. shut the door and pretend he isn't here, huh. Or could he do it anyway? Please, he wants nothing more.

"Mr. Little," he says, doing his best to not sound as awkward as he feels right now.

[fidior]

So much has happened. All of it could feel like some bad dream, only it's far too real for that. The growing horrors of the past weeks, the rise of hostility and aggression, the.... bloodshed.

He'd killed a young man.

Everything that followed it has been torment, and he's barely able to function, to act or think or do anything. He'd attended the town meeting, confessed to his crime, hoping for punishment and knowing nothing could ever truly be enough. Not for what he'd done.

But there was more, so much more. The confessions of others — Hickey killed and ate another. And Gibson.... Little has barely been able to process all that was said by his former steward. He and Hickey are... married. (For how long? How is this possible? It's all... so much.)

What is it that compels him to go to this house, to see this man? He can't quite pinpoint it. But everything around them is crumbling, every single thing, and despite how lost and strange Little feels, and how much he yearns to hide away from everyone and everything, he still... tries. He checks on those he needs to check on, even if so briefly. And perhaps there's a part of him that comes to this house because he is concerned for Gibson's safety — for many different reasons, and not just the fiend he's... joined with, but the people of this community who may seek revenge.

Perhaps there are other reasons, too. Perhaps he'll understand the shape of them later, but for now— he knocks. And when the door opens and he sees the other man pale, clearly baffled to see him, Little can understand why. Truly, he expects the door to shut in his face. But if it does.. it does. He'll stay standing there, his own eyes strange — a little reddened, a lot heavy, tired, ill. He hasn't slept much, these past days. He keeps seeing Mikel with pieces of him blown out onto the snow.

He's awkward too, though, through it all. He knows this is strange. Little swallows tightly, and then nods.

"I was hoping I might speak with you. If you'll permit it." Is Hickey inside this house right now? He almost asks, but doesn't — instead his eyes flit just past Gibson's shoulder for a moment, as though half-expecting to see the other man there. Truly, he hopes he isn't in; he should like to speak to Gibson alone.

[notarat]

There is something about the other man's shape that's reminiscent of a scene from months upon months ago. Of Billy having wandered through town and something he couldn't quite understand either bringing his footsteps to the other's cabin, having found the man inside there in a shape that isn't too unlike the way Little is looking right now. It's obviously less intense than back then if he can still walk around, and he's speaking a touch more than he had back then, but the heaviness is the same.

It stirs some strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that renders him unable to just shut the door and forget about all this. Even though Billy is well aware that Little - of all people - would just let him slam the door on him and leave.

And yet he doesn't. Instead there's a slight nod of his head, and then the taller man is already stepping backwards to make room to let the other man into the house. "Please make sure you don't track snow inside," he just says, like this is a totally normal visit and not clouded by a very obvious elephant in the room that neither of them is addressing just yet.

As Billy closes the door behind Little once he's inside, it will at least become pretty obvious that there doesn't seem to be anyone inside the house aside from them. There's no sound of anyone else moving in the house, and as Billy gestures at the space with a couch and chairs for the man to sit down, it does not seem like there is anyone else there either. Maybe the former lieutenant really got lucky with his timing, happening to come over at a time while Hickey is out. Because--

"Take a seat. I will bring tea."

--as Billy excuses himself for a moment to move over to the small kitchen and Little has a moment to sit down and look around, it definitely looks like a house where two people live. There's a space next to where Billy's coat is hanging that is clearly meant for another coat, even though it's not there right now. It's the small things, all the things in the house that seem to come in natural sets, used and occupied by two rather than one.

And when Billy arrives a few moments later with two cups of tea, putting them down on the table in the small seating area before taking a seat himself, the ring on his finger that he was playing with while speaking up during the town meeting is also still right there on his ring finger. Billy doesn't start about it though. He doesn't start about any of it. He serves the tea, moves to sit down, even grabs his own cup to hold it between his two hands just to have something to hold to keep his fingers from nervously fretting, but he does not start to speak. Like he wants to address any of this so little that he's not going to be the first to offer up anything, his gaze instead downcast as he waits for the other man to speak first.

[fidior]

"Ah — yes," Little nods quickly to the instruction, looking down as he gives his boots a purposeful stomp to clear them of snow before he'll follow the other man inside. There's clear trepidation to his gaze as he casts an initial glance around the home, though as the seconds tick by, it eases within him slightly. He's certain that Hickey would come down as soon as he heard any evidence of an unexpected visit from one of the former lieutenants, would question why he's here. Little and Hickey made an agreement the last time they'd met, after all.

But he sees no immediate sign of him. Little turns, lifting to remove his cap and hold it in his hands, tipping his head in a nod to Gibson who is offering to bring tea. "Thank you." Polite as ever, as though this truly is a typical check-in and not... something else. (He still doesn't know how to define it, but that wouldn't be the first time, not for this group of men from his past. The ones he still remains tethered to with a closeness that none of them can quite assign a category to.)

He moves to sit, slow and stiff and awkward, placing his cap on his knees as he takes in his surroundings with more attention now. Indeed, it's... like a home, in the ways that Little has found his own to change upon Irving taking up residence within it. To find an item moved, to see a second set of clothing and shoes; such things breathe life into a previously solitary environment. He sees some of this now, in this house.

Edward looks back to Billy as he returns, nodding again and setting his cap aside on the space beside him. He, too, is reaching for his own cup and he replaces his cap with this now, drawing the thing into his lap and holding it carefully there while he waits for it to cool a little. Oh yes, it's painfully obvious that Gibson is as uneasy about this visit as he himself is. Edward can't stop his eyes from flitting to that ring for a moment, the glint of it against Gibson's slender finger.

"I apologise for this unanticipated conference," he finally begins, brow knit. "In truth, I have not been... feeling very social." A tight lipped almost-smile, and his eyes drop down to his cup for a moment. "After the tribunal, I.... I have been keeping to myself. Perhaps all of us have. Understandably."

...A bout of silence. There really are no niceties that can make this more palatable. It's all unpleasant, and confusing, and strange.

"Has there been any... negative response? Towards you. I feared that there may be." After the meeting, after what was said. Little starts there, eyes moving back up to watch him. 'Negative response' could cover a range of reactions, but he's most definitely worried about the worst kind, considering the state this community was just in. Threats, violence, so much hostility.

[notarat]

That the other man hasn't exactly been feeling sociable is not a true surprise. After all, even though the town meeting is partially a blur in Billy's mind by now, as hectic as it had been and with how worried he had been back there, he does remember that Little had also been forced to stand and talk about his crime. And the thing that he most remembers about it was how haunted the other had looked the entire time. It was clear that Little's own actions hadn't sat right with him, that he didn't know how to deal with it.

(Billy thinks back on the time he found the man alone in his cabin, looking more dead than alive. He wonders if that's how Little spent the past little while - sitting there like that, thinking about what happened.)

But as he's thinking about all that, he hears Little speak on, hears him turning this topic back around to him. The question is a little less surprising than it would have been if Billy had never spoken with the former lieutenant in this place, but.. it's not like it's the first time that the other is expressing some sort of strange concern for him.

It is still strange though. Especially with what he had been defending. Then again, maybe Little was so haunted by his own actions during the period of darkness that he's putting himself on the same level as Hickey - that is something Billy could see the man doing.

He himself is still quiet for a moment, even after Little's question. Billy doesn't sip his tea again, instead holding it between his hands as he thinks - mostly on what to say here.

After that quiet moment, he settles on: "I assumed that you were the one coming here with said negative response, Mr. Little."

It does feel like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop, after all. Like he's waiting for that same expression he saw in Irving's eyes before to now appear in Little's. An unnatural and detestable sin.

this is SO late, I am totally okay if you'd rather let it go!! creeping off my Nedhiatus...

[fidior]

The words take him by surprise, though perhaps they shouldn't. And as he sits there for a long moment, processing them, Little can see why Gibson would assume such a thing. There is... much to what was confessed, that day — many startling truths exposed. Most here likely would not react well to them, for a variety of reasons.

And it's not that he's... unfeeling towards what Gibson shared; he's been in stun about it, truly, and he has felt copious amounts of confusion and horror from it, but... he doesn't feel anger or hostility or even really judgment. It's... very strange in many ways, and very wounding in many others, but he can't imagine reacting with any of those worse things. So he blinks, wearing his surprise quite clearly on his face, before he swallows again, and when he speaks, his voice is soft and solemn.

"I have been... worried for you. For your safety. After what he's done... and to you, I—"

Hickey killed this man. Killed and fed from him. Little's voice tightens, stomach aching.

"Are you not... frightened? To be in such close proximity to this man?"

He has to ask, though it's not challenging, only genuinely concerned, brows knit, eyes wide and wet. It's true that he's seen more parts of Cornelius Hickey since waking here, learned that he's not... so much of a monster as one might believe (truly a profound and deeply uncomfortable realisation, when Little thinks back to all of the horrible things that man did... what he was responsible for). But it's all so very complicated, and Little knows he of all people cannot throw stones.

So he isn't. He's just.... afraid that something will happen to Gibson again, the way he's afraid that something will happen to all the rest of the men who managed, somehow, to arrive to this place, trapped inbetween living and dead.

oh my god, no, i'm so invested in this thread!!

[notarat]

.. so Hickey had been right, huh. Billy was convinced that if they'd come to bother him, it would be about the homosexuality. And yet Hickey had said, back when Billy had brought the annoyance he felt at the possibility up to him-- They'll be bothering you about me soon enough. About him. Just like Crozier had said as well, as if the problem is not even about the fact that he likes men, but about the fact that he likes Cornelius Hickey.

It's so strange. He has prepared himself all his life to get shit from some direction about his sexuality, never about his specific choice in partner. Yet that is entirely what he's facing here, considering Billy can spot a whole lot of strange worry in the other man's expression, but no distaste at all.

It doesn't help in figuring out what to answer here.

Then again.. He was so honest at the town meeting that he might as well continue it now, no matter how strange it feels to speak of romantic matters to the lieutenants of all people. What does he have left to lose at this point?

"I haven't been afraid of Cornelius a single day in my life." The simple truth. Even after Hickey kidnapped someone, even after he murdered Irving and those native people, even after he seemed totally up for a mutiny, even after he found out that he forged his identity by committing another murder, even after Billy knew Hickey was the one who killed him..

He's never felt afraid. Not even when confronting Hickey again when he first found himself here. He can't even imagine what being afraid of Hickey is like. He just doesn't seem like a man capable of producing fear in anyone, though he clearly has done so within Little somehow.

".. he is just a man, Mr. Little. Just like us all. What reason does he have to kill me again?" Billy is not an idiot who thinks that Hickey's murder back home was completely selfless - there was something practical mixed in it too, surely, after Billy was told he would not even be able to haul anymore, that he was literally dead weight. But the circumstances are different here. "You may not believe it, but he is glad that I am alive here. I don't believe he took pleasure in what he did to me."

HELL yes it's sooooo damn good

[fidior]

The idea of such a relationship, the nature of it, is certainly... atypical, and a little disorienting to face, but Little doesn't fear or perhaps even judge it in a particular way as some might. He belongs to the Church, as most of their time and place do, but.... his personal sense of faith, what guides him, is nothing spiritual or holy. It's his work ethic and role. In fact, he spends little time thinking about religion or the fate of his and others' souls; he's always been much more concerned with worldly matters.

.....He's also just not much a fan of attending sermons at all, if he were to be completely honest. He'd often found reasons to miss them when on the ship... plenty of work to be done elsewhere...

No, it's not the fact that Gibson loves a man that has him staring at the other with confused, gently horrified stun.

'I haven't been afraid of Cornelius a single day in my life.' — It's that, and how once more, Little is stricken by the realisation that he really knows so very little of his former steward or his character. To think that he, of all people, feels no fear of this man. That he could share a home with the person who'd killed and.... done worse things still to him. It's baffling, and Little can hardly believe it.

But he does, of course; he believes Gibson with earnesty, as always. Perhaps there's a chance he's lying or stretching the truth, reshaping it a little so as to protect Hickey. But then he goes on to say what he does next — 'he is just a man', and this is the thing that Little has seen for himself as of late, regarding Hickey. This is the truth that he wishes were not a truth. It would be so much easier if he were fully some monster. But... he'd had reasons for what he did; he told Little as much. The same way they all had reasons. William's words here make just as much sense. Why would he kill him here? They have food, they aren't sick the same ways anymore.

"I suppose I have been.... concerned that he might try to finish things. Or to conceal certain truths by.... silencing you, or John." His mouth tightens at mention of Irving; he's been carrying that worry every day. "....But I spoke with him recently. He actually... promised not to harm John, as long as he kept away from him."

Still something that feels vaguely shaped like a threat, but.... also still a compromise. Little hasn't even told Irving that, yet. Gibson's the first and only person Little shares that particular thing now.

"....He is clearly a man for whom concepts like honour and decency mean very little, if anything. But.... that does not make him a monster, no." He admits this for the first time aloud too, words soft and tired and sad. It's strange, so strange, to feel this way about the man who had hurt so many, who had instigated acts that might have helped doom them all, who had done such horrible things, but — Cornelius Hickey is not alone in that. That blame could be said for many of them, and certainly for Edward Little himself. And as an officer, as one of the highest-ranking men on that Expedition, his failure was among the most damnable. What he'd done. What he'd betrayed.

He hesitates again. Asking personal questions so outright would have been unthinkable before, and still isn't easy, especially given the nature of this entire conversation and what surrounds it. But...

"Have you.... loved him since before this place?"

for chloe!

[notarat]

Look. Did he kind of impulsively run over to drag Hickey home right at the end of the town meeting?

Yes. For many reasons, but yes, he did. Billy really didn't want to linger in that place for even a moment longer than absolutely necessarily, and he only realises much later - by the time he's already home and has spoken with Hickey about everything - that he forgot to actually say anything to Chloe after it all was over. Usually that sort of thing wouldn't massively bother Billy, but.. It gnaws at him this time. Chloe has helped him out just a few too many times for her not not want to reciprocate that, not to mention that he did drag her over to the meeting in the first place.

So the moment everything with Hickey is settled, he makes his way over towards Chloe's house. It didn't seem likely that she'd linger at the town meeting venue anyway, so he's hoping she made her way home already. It's sure going to be a long search for her through town otherwise.

There's a polite little knock on the door, and to make sure Chloe knows it's him and not some random other person, he adds: "Miss Frazer..? It's me."

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe had seen the atmosphere in the hall sour once the not-guilty verdicts had been announced, and you'd best believe she'd hustled out of there as fast as possible. Emotional-support-slash-lawyer for the smug gay geriatric-beating cannibal's beanpole husband might not be making her any friends in that place. It's still a relief though, and not just because she'd been a bit worried about Hickey ratting (ha) her out to try and weasel out of punishment if they'd found him guilty.

At least they're not there, yet, in the place where people with enough friends can just vote to hurt anyone they don't like.

She's broken out of her thoughts by a knock at the door. Of the people who know where she lives, only one would knock so politely, but she does appreciate him announcing himself.

Chloe opens the door. "Hey, Billy. Big day, huh? Want to come in?"

[notarat]

There's a nod on his part, and when she lets him in, Billy does come inside. He may not suffer the cold as intensely as most people, but it's just more comfortable to talk inside rather than standing outside. .. if not partially just because he's still worried about any potential after-effects from how that entire town meeting went down. Even if people are more likely mad at Hickey than they're mad at him, he could easily become collateral damage.

"I wanted to thank you," he says once he's inside, politely taking off his winter hat, curls springing free from underneath, "for everything today."

Billy isn't much of a person to go out of his way to say this under normal circumstances. But considering what today was like, and the extent Chloe went out of her way for him? He finds himself actually wanting to.

"I know it can't have been easy for you there either. I know you greatly dislike matters like these." You know, anything to do with law.. crime.. punishment.. And they knew it was going to be about that before even actually attending, but it definitely did end up even more intense than Billy imagined it'd be. "But you still came with me."

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe also just doesn't like her business being broadcast outside to people like that new guy on her street. Or god forbid Louis decides she's cheating on Lestat or something and opts to show up and yell at her again. No, it's much easier to do these things indoors.

It's a little embarrassing to be thanked so openly.

“Well. I couldn't let you go through that by yourself.” It had really only been luck (and maybe a few of the passionate nerd speeches) that Hickey had escaped being beaten or worse. “I’d say your man’s an idiot, but none of us were really making good choices.”

[notarat]

If it were anyone but Chloe, he would have pointed out that plenty of people would have let him go alone through that - but she knows that just as well as he does. Chloe has never seemed like the type of person who doesn't know what other people are like, and how much you have to take care of yourself because of it.

So instead he opts to address: "You can say he is an idiot. Because he is."

Look, he's stood up for Hickey. Clearly that means he's earned the right to be bitchy about it now, especially when Billy has had an awful day because of the other's actions.

"He even picked up the wrong conclusion entirely about everything that went down back there. Which doesn't seem great, considering just how intensely Crozier seems to be out for his blood."

[desperate_times_right]

“Yeah? What does he think?”

Chloe thinks he’d barely escaped by the skin of his teeth, and he's probably lucky other people more popular than him had also killed people.

“I’ll be honest: I didn't think the old guy had it in him.”

[notarat]

"He thinks he can get away with it." It's not the sort of thing he would have told anyone else, especially given that it might give people more reason to go after him. But Billy trusts Chloe to be one of the few people here who never would.

Which makes it kind of nice to be able to actually share his worries for the other man, rather than pushing them all down the way he usually does. The fact he's still worried and nervous over this entire thing is definitely audible in Billy's voice. He may even be pacing just a little bit inside Chloe's home now, though he doesn't quite realize he's doing it.

"While he clearly can't. The next time something like this happens, they will hang him. If the town won't, then I am sure Crozier will do it himself." Because-- yeah, that old guy sure has it in him. Billy doesn't doubt it anymore after what he witnessed today.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe makes a face. “He got away with it because we were all… possessed or whatever, a couple of the hall monitors threw a last-minute not-guilty campaign, and some big names everyone likes were up there next to him. If someone popular like that had been killed, all bets are off.”

If she’d hurt Kate instead of simply disarming her, what might have happened to both of them?