Joe didn't question William's claim that he was fine. He understood lies of omission and necessity. Instead, he stood and walked to his desk, digging through the piles of homework assignments and books for a a few spare pieces of blank parchment. His own inkwell stood precariously on the edge of his desk and snagged it between his fingers, catching up a quill with his other fingers. His own thoughts tumbled through his mind on confused disarray.
"Here you are," Joe said, passing them off to William. His mind wouldn't settle into anything resembling it's usual calm. Whatever he saw, whatever that thing was stretched across the room in William's mind, it was dangerous and Joe had the feeling it was both very real and very important.
He settled back on the couch, elbows braced on his knees while he listened to the scratch of the quill. He tried to reconstruct the web, the intricacies and subtleties. Even the memory of it made him shudder.
Closing his eyes, Joe nodded slowly. "I remember."