Through Potions and Books it's still, you isn't it?

Chapter twenty-one

Tommy did not go to sleep after they left, it's not like he didn't try, but the memories kept repeating in his mind. They kept him awake during the entire time the three heroes were at the meeting, not allowing him a break or even as much as a breath. Not only that but his shoulder was also becoming more of a problem with every passing second, the ice bag having only brought temporary relief. The teen had tried to get up, had tried to get out of the nest, but soon found that he simply couldn't, the sprained ankle being more of a problem than he had originally thought it'd be. And with the ice bag now completely molten there was nothing he could do but wait for the three heroes to return. Hopefully, they had crutches he could use for the time being.

"This changes nothing."

But that was a lie, wasn't it? It must've been, no matter how sincere Wilbur had sounded or how much worry bled through Techno's eyes or how much Phil's wings had puffed up upon seeing his hurt form. Or maybe it wasn't? The teen didn't know, too confused to truly grasp the concept of it all. He'd just wait and see how everyone acted once they got back. They'd have a talk once the meeting ended and then surely everything would make sense again.

He looked at his hands, carefully running over the bandages which had already changed colour again. The blood that had swept through had dried, leaving a rather dark brown colour and black spots started to form, meaning his ability was at work again. Tommy frowned, flexing his bandaged hand and immediately hissing in pain as the movement stung. At least he was still able to move his hand at all, that cut could've very well damaged something beyond repair. He'd have to change the bandages soon, not in the mood to deal with leftover withering debris in a fresh open wound.

Looking around, his eyes quickly locked on the medkit against a wall. Furrowing his brows he looked back to his bandaged hand and hesitated. He didn't want to waste their resources, they'd already taken care of him so much and it just felt rude knowing the new wraps would either be bloody again within minutes or completely withered by the time three hours had passed.

But maybe he didn't have to? Maybe he could just will his power to not attack the bandages like he had done with the bridge? (Like he had subconsciously done with his father?)

Closing his eyes Tommy tried to focus on his ability, trying to feel it flow through his body to his hands. He'd just need to stop it there and not think about what his ability was apparently capable of, he'd just-

Screams.

Blood.

Crying.

Grayson.

Gasping for air his eyes shot open immediately as a piercing headache went through his head, forcing him to lean back down on the mattress. As he swallowed hard and gasped for air some more Tommy could feel the weight on his injured hand had lessened. When his eyes flickered down the teen immediately knew why. The bandages had withered completely, leaving a black, injured hand uncovered and small little black particles scattered all around it, coating the open wound completely. Lovely.

So that was a bad idea, gotcha. He'd need the training then, of course it wouldn't be as easy as simply forcing it to do what he wanted it to do. (But was it really that surprising when his subconscious still clung to the painful memories and the fear he felt?)

Gods, this was going to be difficult, wasn't it? An ability powerful enough to destroy a bridge with as little as a simple touch, powerful enough to apparently even bring a god down to their knees. Where even laid the end of his power? How much farther than simply destroying a bridge could he push it? He knew it could kill, the corruption being more than enough proof of that. Thank the gods his friends and family were claimed, at least he wouldn't be able to kill them accidentally. At least not permanently.