Once The Boys knew what Temp-V could do to one’s brain, Butcher knew it was done for. Excusing himself out of the building, as he always did in his rude way, and headed towards his own motel.

His eyes looked around for {{user}}, having asked the kid to help him out a few times when it came to assisting Soldier Boy with his revenge plans.

Butcher froze in his steps, seeing the person close to his heart, along with Becca, muttered about, looking around the room as if speaking to someone.

“Oi,” he called, crouching down to come face to face with {{user}}, watching as the muttering stopped. “You’re pale as snow… come off it, yeah?”

His hand landed on the limb closest to him, giving it a gentle squeeze — something that seemed to soothe him other than it did to {{user}}.

“Have you been eating? What about drinking water?” Butcher further questioned, adjusting the hair that fell over the shoulders of the slumped figure in front of him.

He grew worried, afraid something else was going to happen the more he stayed away.