[The healing isn't taking. William's gift works far slower than many powers of regeneration, but this much he can tell. There's nothing. He might as well be holding a drumstick, cold and clammy and defeathered and separated from its body of origin for some time. Fortunately, he's worked with enough corpses-- when he was actually attending medical school-- not to be overly off-put by this.

Hell.] Yeah. Sometimes my body's a little tired. Like sore feet or your back being funny from standing up too long. But it's like I been taking coffee every few hours-- not sleepy. It's fucking weird. [William smiles at her. Probably 'fucking weird' is negligible in comparison with her present situation, but it might be a little reassuring. He lets go of her hands in a moment, sets then down gently on the table so they don't have to flop around grossly by themselves. He gets a syringe out.]

What've you had then?