"You can't depress that thing, she's manic." Of course all kittens were manic, but that was neither here nor there. If Will fell asleep, Fisher would more than likely go get his kitten and bring her in. Will seemed to be happy when he was petting the cat.
Sitting beside Will, holding his hand, Fisher felt scrutinized. The angel was watching him with a curious look on his face, and the medium wasn't sure what to make of it. So he sat there, looking down at the few remnants of polish still on his nails, at the thread on his pants that needed to be snipped, at the shiny silver chain that had a link that needed closing. He let Will be quiet as long as he needed. Blushing, Fisher smiled a little, ready to deny that he was anywhere near great. Okay at best.
Those simple words Will spoke next flew a panic into Fisher's chest. He didn't like being counted upon, being needed, even though he really wanted to try and be there for Will. But having someone depend on him scared the shit out of him. His back tensed, though he tried not to show it. Not all too long ago, James had said weaker words than this and Fisher had literally walked out the door.
He let his hand go limp in Will's, clearing his throat a bit. "Nah, you don't," he said casually. "You're ten times stronger than I'll ever be.