[Time rakes across the memory. It whirls around Henry, days moving past in a blur, watching the cars change out, routine rooting itself into life like a disease.
(The storm outside, though… It truly feels like it’s a thing alive again, like it wants to devour everything here.)
The day settles into a normal pace. Alec’s father is working on something, light shining from etched magic. Behind him, he hears Alec himself make his way down the stairs. But ultimately, he’s drawn to the movement just beyond the garage door, the large black car pulling up, looking not unlike a great predator descending onto an everyday scene.
Maybe he’s biased. Maybe it reminds him of government vehicles that he so very, very rarely ever got to see; pulling up to the building, men in suits would always spill out, stern-faced government officials making certain Hawkins National Laboratory was running like a well-oiled machine, its projects still viable, still producing measurable results. How Papa would smile and charm them into thinking that yes, of course, it was. And then some.
No, nothing ever good emerges from big, shiny black cars with deeply tinted windows. Henry watches. He can feel it in his bones.]
no subject
(The storm outside, though… It truly feels like it’s a thing alive again, like it wants to devour everything here.)
The day settles into a normal pace. Alec’s father is working on something, light shining from etched magic. Behind him, he hears Alec himself make his way down the stairs. But ultimately, he’s drawn to the movement just beyond the garage door, the large black car pulling up, looking not unlike a great predator descending onto an everyday scene.
Maybe he’s biased. Maybe it reminds him of government vehicles that he so very, very rarely ever got to see; pulling up to the building, men in suits would always spill out, stern-faced government officials making certain Hawkins National Laboratory was running like a well-oiled machine, its projects still viable, still producing measurable results. How Papa would smile and charm them into thinking that yes, of course, it was. And then some.
No, nothing ever good emerges from big, shiny black cars with deeply tinted windows. Henry watches. He can feel it in his bones.]