[It's been so long since he found himself expelled without rhyme or reason from Norfinbury, thrust back into the strife he had been pulled out of as if not even a moment of time had passed.
The fight with Father was all-consuming, leaving no time or energy to contemplate what might have happened. And then-- then all of a sudden he was whole once more, fragile and brittle as cracked glass, but whole. His life seems vibrant and real, he half wonders if his time in that snowy hell had been a dream.
Only the memory of the friends he made there keeps him from being sure that was the case. He could not have dreamt so many different, amazing, strong, flawed people. His heart aches for them and he spends so much time in his hospital room, when he should be recovering, trying to find ways back there. Not to trap himself once more, but to free them.
He finds nothing.
No clues, no evidence that such a portal to another place even exists beyond what might be created through human transmutation, and that's no option he will consider. Months come and go, and he's discharged back to Resembool.
He's still weak. Still needs a crutch to walk, still can count every pronounced rib without his shirt on, but he's so much stronger than he was. He's trying to increase that strength by taking a walk out on this sunny day, resting heavily on his crutch and taking his time, when he hears a voice so familiar that it's as if someone has reached into his chest and grabbed his heart.
He drops the crutch.
Scarcely a heartbeat later Zack would find himself the object of a tackling hug from a crying stranger, too light-weight to budge him even a second. Al wants to say something, he does, but his throat is tight and tears are streaming down his face and all he can do is hold fast to the friend he has missed so dearly.]
no subject
The fight with Father was all-consuming, leaving no time or energy to contemplate what might have happened. And then-- then all of a sudden he was whole once more, fragile and brittle as cracked glass, but whole. His life seems vibrant and real, he half wonders if his time in that snowy hell had been a dream.
Only the memory of the friends he made there keeps him from being sure that was the case. He could not have dreamt so many different, amazing, strong, flawed people. His heart aches for them and he spends so much time in his hospital room, when he should be recovering, trying to find ways back there. Not to trap himself once more, but to free them.
He finds nothing.
No clues, no evidence that such a portal to another place even exists beyond what might be created through human transmutation, and that's no option he will consider. Months come and go, and he's discharged back to Resembool.
He's still weak. Still needs a crutch to walk, still can count every pronounced rib without his shirt on, but he's so much stronger than he was. He's trying to increase that strength by taking a walk out on this sunny day, resting heavily on his crutch and taking his time, when he hears a voice so familiar that it's as if someone has reached into his chest and grabbed his heart.
He drops the crutch.
Scarcely a heartbeat later Zack would find himself the object of a tackling hug from a crying stranger, too light-weight to budge him even a second. Al wants to say something, he does, but his throat is tight and tears are streaming down his face and all he can do is hold fast to the friend he has missed so dearly.]