11-16-2017, 02:12 AM
October (?), Elsewhere
He came back around with his head pressed against the cold glass of a passenger window. There weren’t any stars in the sky, no sun to give an indication what day it was, and no other cars on the road to give an indication of where they were. The trees were tall, though, and grew straight up instead of being spindly things growing up and out and up again to try and take all the nutrients they could from the air. They weren’t trees that had been abused terribly.
Then again, William didn’t know much about that. He just knew that there were trees- lots of them- and hills (maybe mountain roads?) He could feel the up and down in his stomach and his hand came up to cover his mouth, but the movement was uncoordinated. Still sluggish from… how long ago? Long enough ago. His vision wasn’t sharp and his fingertips were tingling; William’s brain held onto things so they could be grounding. He reached forward before a woman’s hand batted it away from the passenger door handle.
His attention turned to the left; Blythe was driving and seemed rather focused on the road ahead of her.
“There was enough GHB in your system to kill a pony,” she said. Her voice was tight.
“Not a first,” he slurred.
“You could have died.”
“… and?”
She inhaled, slapped both hands back on the steering wheel. William narrowed his eyes before turning back to the window. He was looking for cues but the text and directions on the road signs didn’t seem too keen on revealing themselves to be useful companions in this regard. He reached for his seatbelt to unbuckle, only to have his hands batted away again. The ride was uncomfortable, and William kept looking for something in the car to orient himself. The clock was useless, the radio wasn’t on, the road signs were gibberish.
The road was becoming progressively more mountainous as time went on. He caught the hints of snowflakes coming and hitting the windows; the dropping temperature was accentuated by his breath on the window. The sun was gone; William wasn’t surprised that it was going to start getting very cold wherever it wasn’t. He had no frame of reference for how long they had been driving, but he did know that Blythe had moved his hands from playing with things at least three times until-
“Do it again I’m handcuffing you to the carseat-holder-thingies in the back,” she snapped.
William’s only response was to laugh. It made the woman glower.
“I’m serious.”
“I know,” he replied, uncoordinated but uninhibited, “it’s just-”
“What?”
“You’re-they’re- thingies?”
“Yeah,” she said, almost sounding self-conscious, “they’re those loops in the newer cars so car seats don’t go flying out the front windshield.”
“I know,” which didn’t make him stop laughing. “You are sooooo much scarier when you’re not driving,” William tittered.
“Before the next rest stop I’m stuffing you in the trunk,” Blythe grumbled.
William didn’t stop laughing for a minute, but he was certain that when he looked her way she did have the barest hints of a smile on her face. Self-deprecating, but humoring him. This was why it was dangerous to let him talk. This was why it was easy for him to almost get out and away the first time, before anyone knew that he was some grand imposter back in July- he was affable. Some trickster or deceiver. Her soft hearted, void-touched boy.
He came back around with his head pressed against the cold glass of a passenger window. There weren’t any stars in the sky, no sun to give an indication what day it was, and no other cars on the road to give an indication of where they were. The trees were tall, though, and grew straight up instead of being spindly things growing up and out and up again to try and take all the nutrients they could from the air. They weren’t trees that had been abused terribly.
Then again, William didn’t know much about that. He just knew that there were trees- lots of them- and hills (maybe mountain roads?) He could feel the up and down in his stomach and his hand came up to cover his mouth, but the movement was uncoordinated. Still sluggish from… how long ago? Long enough ago. His vision wasn’t sharp and his fingertips were tingling; William’s brain held onto things so they could be grounding. He reached forward before a woman’s hand batted it away from the passenger door handle.
His attention turned to the left; Blythe was driving and seemed rather focused on the road ahead of her.
“There was enough GHB in your system to kill a pony,” she said. Her voice was tight.
“Not a first,” he slurred.
“You could have died.”
“… and?”
She inhaled, slapped both hands back on the steering wheel. William narrowed his eyes before turning back to the window. He was looking for cues but the text and directions on the road signs didn’t seem too keen on revealing themselves to be useful companions in this regard. He reached for his seatbelt to unbuckle, only to have his hands batted away again. The ride was uncomfortable, and William kept looking for something in the car to orient himself. The clock was useless, the radio wasn’t on, the road signs were gibberish.
The road was becoming progressively more mountainous as time went on. He caught the hints of snowflakes coming and hitting the windows; the dropping temperature was accentuated by his breath on the window. The sun was gone; William wasn’t surprised that it was going to start getting very cold wherever it wasn’t. He had no frame of reference for how long they had been driving, but he did know that Blythe had moved his hands from playing with things at least three times until-
“Do it again I’m handcuffing you to the carseat-holder-thingies in the back,” she snapped.
William’s only response was to laugh. It made the woman glower.
“I’m serious.”
“I know,” he replied, uncoordinated but uninhibited, “it’s just-”
“What?”
“You’re-they’re- thingies?”
“Yeah,” she said, almost sounding self-conscious, “they’re those loops in the newer cars so car seats don’t go flying out the front windshield.”
“I know,” which didn’t make him stop laughing. “You are sooooo much scarier when you’re not driving,” William tittered.
“Before the next rest stop I’m stuffing you in the trunk,” Blythe grumbled.
William didn’t stop laughing for a minute, but he was certain that when he looked her way she did have the barest hints of a smile on her face. Self-deprecating, but humoring him. This was why it was dangerous to let him talk. This was why it was easy for him to almost get out and away the first time, before anyone knew that he was some grand imposter back in July- he was affable. Some trickster or deceiver. Her soft hearted, void-touched boy.