Everything inside looks how he remembers it. Exactly how he remembers it, down to the picture of his father on the dresser. It's a closet of a space, a bedroom folding into a kitchen with a toilet in the corner. The air tastes stale. Like a hospital. Like a sick room.
"Mother?" Faint. Timid. He knows even if she's here it's not her, but...
But.
He smudges at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I thought... I don't know." He moves inside, not letting go of Olivia. There are little lead soldiers scattered across the floor. Steve picks one up, turns it over in his fingers, feels every edge and point. "This isn't real. It's not."
He covers his eyes with his wrist, sounding and feeling entirely like the boy he looks. "I want to go home."
no subject
Everything inside looks how he remembers it. Exactly how he remembers it, down to the picture of his father on the dresser. It's a closet of a space, a bedroom folding into a kitchen with a toilet in the corner. The air tastes stale. Like a hospital. Like a sick room.
"Mother?" Faint. Timid. He knows even if she's here it's not her, but...
But.
He smudges at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I thought... I don't know." He moves inside, not letting go of Olivia. There are little lead soldiers scattered across the floor. Steve picks one up, turns it over in his fingers, feels every edge and point. "This isn't real. It's not."
He covers his eyes with his wrist, sounding and feeling entirely like the boy he looks. "I want to go home."