Waelin watched William's face intently, hoping for a clue as the silence dragged on. All that transpired was the whiping away of that stray tear. It never occurred to him that a machine shouldn't be able to cry. But then, he didn't look at William like a machine, even as he held that naked metal hand in his own. And the thought of what may be wrong with the rest of that arm also did not cross his mind. It was irrelevant. And perhaps that was also why Waelin could not understand William's pain.
Finally, his hand was held back, and a new spring of hope bubbled up. Finally William spoke, but it was not convincing, and the light frown stayed upon Waelin's lips. That wasn't true...and he was about to tell him so too, but was interrupted before he could start. His cheek was gently cupped and he blinked at Will, listening. The frown then deepened. "No, of course not! Why would I be afraid?" But Will continued, and it finally clicked. The scars...he didn't want anybody to see the scars...
Waelin withdrew his hand from Will's stomach as the coat was held closed, but did not release his friend's hand. What was he supposed to say now? Waelin tilted his head, still frowning slightly, and continued to stare up at Will's face. What was he supposed to say...?
Finally, Waelin looked down, at the old rug under his feet. "I understand...it was your secret, something you didn't want anybody to know about. I do understand, I really do...I have a secret like that as well." He paused for a moment, then raised his head, a small smile back on his usually cheerful features. He gave William's hand a squeaze. "Don't worry, it doesn't bother me at all! I was just afraid some of them were fresh and that you were hurt. I'll make sure nobody else gets to hurt you, ok? I'll sic my dragons on them and make them leave, and you won't get anymore scars."
It sounded childish, and he realized this, but he didn't know how to say it any other way. He'd make sure William would be safe. He was his friend now, and you never let a friend get hurt by other people. He calmed a bit, but still refused to let go of William's hand. He wanted him to feel better...
"Do you want me to get you a shirt to sleep in, or some pants or something? You'll fit into Father's clothes much better than me, and I can't imagine that coat will be very comfortable to sleep in." He didn't want Will to be awkward around him because of those scars...they didn't bother him at all...
And if worst came to worst, he could always let Will in on his own secret...