It bothered her to see him like this, put her on edge. They had done something to him which made her skin crawl and she wanted to rip them apart for it. But she couldn’t, not alone. She would need Leo and he was—
“Alright,” she said, waiting for him to get back. Any other time, she would have eaten herself but hunger escaped her. What she wanted was rest. If it came down to needing her powers again - and she had no doubt it would - Mic would need rest, sleep of some kind. Raising her voice so he could hear her in the other room, she called out, “I’m sorry, but I’m going to need to lay down or something. Just for a little bit."
Leo dipped his head into the sink just like before, downing the waterfall like it was from the fountain of youth. He turned off the faucet so he could hear her, called back, "Jus’ leave out the machete so I can sharpen it,” then continued to guzzle the water until the taste was all but gone from his mouth. Before turning off the water again, he washed his hair and his neck, cleaning both his blood and the black ichor that clung to his skin.
Feeling slightly more refreshed, he returned to the room, picked up the weapon and tools from wherever Mic had placed them, sat as far from her as he could and began working, humming a forlorn tune. As time went on, the voices became louder. They began to hum with him. Whispered encouragements to use the weapon against the demon. He ate more. Another few boxes every couple hours. He knew what his body craved, but he would not succumb. He could not succumb.
