[ it's a little fucked up. it's a little fucked up, but that same time, billy doesn't really blame marcus. duplicity is - a whole different ball game in a way billy can't properly describe, and he'd be a liar if he said he'd spent any significant amount of time looking for or thinking about his friends back home in his short time here so far. on his first day, sure, before orientation, he spent a couple hours scoping out the city, looking for signs of familiarity, but once he found marcus, once marcus told him there was nobody else - well, he kind of let it go. who has the time or the mental clarity to think about other people outside of his immediate reach when there's crazy shit like acid rain and and gang activity and people whipping their asses out on the internet.
there's a lot to be preoccupied with. billy hasn't thought about saya, about maria, willie. he hasn't thought about lex. he hasn't thought about petra at all, which strikes him oddly now that he's realized it, but he doesn't linger on the thought much. instead, he shrugs, like none of this is a big deal. their friends haven't been roped into whatever screwed up test lin is administering here. lucky them.
marus grabs at his shirt and billy's immediate instinct is to reach and tug it down so it keeps covering his stomach, but he ignores the instinct. he closes his eyes, lets his legs swing idly, wishes, again, for a cigarette, a joint. when marcus asks if billy would kill him, he opens his eyes back up, his eyebrows immediately pulling together. for a few beats, he just stares upwards, like he's waiting for marcus to laugh - ha ha, just kidding. but marcus doesn't laugh, so billy turns his head to look at him, lifts it up a little just to be more direct. ]
What? Dude - no. [ billy looks at him like he's a goddamn idiot, like the question is fucking absurd, but he doesn't elaborate. no. that's it. he lays his head back down, looks away again, quiet. it seems like such an easy question to answer, and billy realizes that marcus is asking because he's trying to put some perspective on the hit, having to kill someone he considers a friend, but - billy suddenly also wonders - ]
... Would you? Kill me. [ ... ] You're that close to this guy, huh.
[ stiles, he means, though he doesn't know him by name. otherwise, billy doesn't know why marcus would even ask. ]
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there's a lot to be preoccupied with. billy hasn't thought about saya, about maria, willie. he hasn't thought about lex. he hasn't thought about petra at all, which strikes him oddly now that he's realized it, but he doesn't linger on the thought much. instead, he shrugs, like none of this is a big deal. their friends haven't been roped into whatever screwed up test lin is administering here. lucky them.
marus grabs at his shirt and billy's immediate instinct is to reach and tug it down so it keeps covering his stomach, but he ignores the instinct. he closes his eyes, lets his legs swing idly, wishes, again, for a cigarette, a joint. when marcus asks if billy would kill him, he opens his eyes back up, his eyebrows immediately pulling together. for a few beats, he just stares upwards, like he's waiting for marcus to laugh - ha ha, just kidding. but marcus doesn't laugh, so billy turns his head to look at him, lifts it up a little just to be more direct. ]
What? Dude - no. [ billy looks at him like he's a goddamn idiot, like the question is fucking absurd, but he doesn't elaborate. no. that's it. he lays his head back down, looks away again, quiet. it seems like such an easy question to answer, and billy realizes that marcus is asking because he's trying to put some perspective on the hit, having to kill someone he considers a friend, but - billy suddenly also wonders - ]
... Would you? Kill me. [ ... ] You're that close to this guy, huh.
[ stiles, he means, though he doesn't know him by name. otherwise, billy doesn't know why marcus would even ask. ]