Radar nods. He takes another long breath as he imitates the movement of her hands. Turn, together, apart. One, two, three. It feels awkward as anything at first, and he keeps forgetting to match it to his breathing, let alone say the words out loud. Turn, together, apart. Breathe in, breathe out. Is this really all it takes to do something as big as magic?

Coordinate it like you're doing CPR, he thinks. That's just a couple of gestures, too -- but sometimes it's all it takes to make a whole entire heart start beating again.

"This is my will," he whispers. The shape of the movements are falling into place. "This is my will. This..."

Oh, that doesn't sound like him at all. He sighs out, frustrated, and tries again. Turn, together, apart; breathe in. "This is what I wanna do."

And he almost yelps as something brushes across his back.

Except whatever it is feels so warm and caring, too. It's not a chill like something frightening or unwanted. It's almost like, for a second, his mom touched the spot right between his shoulder blades and whispered: I'm here, Walter. He doesn't know if he's gonna laugh or cry.

Breathless, he looks up at Fever. "I think I felt something."