He feels like wood, he feels like (too many) one of his nightmares where he's just a doll tangled up in puppet strings with himself. That must be what this is. This is a nightmare, it has to be. Yet he struggles and strains against those strings, reaching for his brother, reaching for his mother. If he can just grab ahold of the two people who first tethered him here, then maybe he really can stay.
"help..." The word is small and strained, barely loud enough to be called a whimper.
His fingertips just brush Tauriel's. Time seems to move so, so slowly as he reaches out for S-4, even as something tries to drag him away.
The something wins.
His hand meets glass, solid and tempered, cutting him off from his brother, from everything. The world takes on a hue of cool, light blue. Stasis fluid. He's in stasis fluid. But it's not until Sans-Serif beats his palm against the glass once more that he realizes where he is. The comprehension brings a thrill of terror with it.
He's back in his pod. And the world outside the glass is unmistakably a lab, with a tall figure visible moving around through his hazy view.
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"help..." The word is small and strained, barely loud enough to be called a whimper.
His fingertips just brush Tauriel's. Time seems to move so, so slowly as he reaches out for S-4, even as something tries to drag him away.
The something wins.
His hand meets glass, solid and tempered, cutting him off from his brother, from everything. The world takes on a hue of cool, light blue. Stasis fluid. He's in stasis fluid. But it's not until Sans-Serif beats his palm against the glass once more that he realizes where he is. The comprehension brings a thrill of terror with it.
He's back in his pod. And the world outside the glass is unmistakably a lab, with a tall figure visible moving around through his hazy view.