Ashton's alarm rose as he saw the state of Barclay's room and still no sign of Barclay until movement caught the dragon's attention and he turned, prepared to face whatever attacker had done this to his witch's things. "Barclay," he muttered in relief that washed over him as he recognized the boy, messy hair and all, and moved towards him.
Steps slowing, Ashton saw when Barclay opened his eyes to a white washed out blank look. "Barclay," he said for the third time since coming in, this time almost with a question in his tone. Closing the distance between them, Ashton studied Barclay's face and reached up to cup his cheek, holding him still as he looked into the white eyes of his witch.
The questions all came bubbling to the surface, and Ashton's gaze shifted to the mess of a room, landing on the spilled black potion and the dragon growled at it, shifting to shield Barclay from the line of sight of the potion just out of protective instinct.
"Who did this? Why did you not..." remembering the discarded phone and that it would be impossible for the witch to get a message out to him without being able to see, Ashton growled again. "Undo it. Fix it."
His hand hadn't moved from Barclay's face, the other lifting to stroke down the wild mane of the boy's hair so he would seem less deranged. His witch was smart and powerful. This was not supposed to happen. He could fix it.