(no subject)
Bill hadn't slept much at all in the past week, and he had the dark circles under his eyes to prove it.
Even though a very large part of him had wanted to simply retreat into the jungle, to disappear for a few days or even weeks, he hadn't done. He was still fulfilling all of his obligations - the school, The Winchester, the club, and today the kitchen - but more often than not he was going through the motions in a rather robotic fashion instead of with his usual cheer.
She'd been such a large part of his life for so long that Bill had come to a sort of complacency, a belief that she, at least, would always be around even as others came and went. But now Abby was gone, his Coffee Bird disappeared like so many before and likely many to come, and Bill was entirely at a loss.
He'd been hovering around Ron so much in the past few days he was half expecting to be told to sod off at any moment. Every free moment he had was spent checking on Helen or Roger or Dean or Shari or any number of other valued friends, more to assure himself they were still there than anything. Every night he either tossed and turned alone in his bed at the Homestead or roamed the island aimlessly when the restlessness got to be too much. Now, he was serving up dinner as he did every Friday, well aware Helen would have taken his shift if he'd asked but needing to stay busy.
Once everything was laid out and ready to serve, Bill hopped up on the counter with a book, though he didn't open it. And for what was likely the first time since he'd been on the kitchen crew, he didn't pour himself a cup of coffee.
[Friday dinner = gathering post, so tag Bill and each other! On the menu: spaghetti + boar meatballs, tuna steaks, green salad, fruit muffins. ST/LT welcome, open to new tags through Weds]
Even though a very large part of him had wanted to simply retreat into the jungle, to disappear for a few days or even weeks, he hadn't done. He was still fulfilling all of his obligations - the school, The Winchester, the club, and today the kitchen - but more often than not he was going through the motions in a rather robotic fashion instead of with his usual cheer.
She'd been such a large part of his life for so long that Bill had come to a sort of complacency, a belief that she, at least, would always be around even as others came and went. But now Abby was gone, his Coffee Bird disappeared like so many before and likely many to come, and Bill was entirely at a loss.
He'd been hovering around Ron so much in the past few days he was half expecting to be told to sod off at any moment. Every free moment he had was spent checking on Helen or Roger or Dean or Shari or any number of other valued friends, more to assure himself they were still there than anything. Every night he either tossed and turned alone in his bed at the Homestead or roamed the island aimlessly when the restlessness got to be too much. Now, he was serving up dinner as he did every Friday, well aware Helen would have taken his shift if he'd asked but needing to stay busy.
Once everything was laid out and ready to serve, Bill hopped up on the counter with a book, though he didn't open it. And for what was likely the first time since he'd been on the kitchen crew, he didn't pour himself a cup of coffee.
[Friday dinner = gathering post, so tag Bill and each other! On the menu: spaghetti + boar meatballs, tuna steaks, green salad, fruit muffins. ST/LT welcome, open to new tags through Weds]