"I never knew how the would have ended on my world," Billy answered, "but I hope you return to that someday." It would be nice to know that Katara was happy, even knowing they would have to part ways. "A happy ending for us seems impossible now, but...maybe, just maybe, we can do well with what we have."

Katara's question puzzled him for a second. How did he get...what? Billy paused, feeling her eyes on his back. As far as he knew, there was nothing to really look at except his scars. Oh, of course. Those. He squirmed uncomfortably, still self-conscious about their presence. This, Billy thought, was why he rarely took his shirt off. But everyone probably had some, right?

"They're marks from the battles we've faced," Billy blushed, staring down at the water. He twisted his arm around to point to marks as well as he could. "Heavy debris fell on my shoulder when Jamie and I were working our way through the Nightmare King's battlefield---I shot something out of his way and it hit me. My arm was hit by the Ohm on Zokez II, as was my leg. They're not painful anymore, just unpleasant to look at."

He turned warily, exposing the odd one on his stomach and looking down at it. "...and that was the result a disastrous experiment as a child. I was exceptionally cautious with scissors from then on."

Billy paused briefly. "But they're not too serious, just reminders of far more substantial losses."