hugh-stewartâ:
Date: 1 January 2021 Time: 00:42 AM Location: Evening Primrose
âSarah?âÂ
Hugh wakes up to the voice, finding himself lying on the corner booth of Evening Primrose. He remembers dropping by for the New Yearâs. He must have passed out. The light is out in the diner, and all is quietâ but the air is dark and heavy and familiar⌠like walking through the hospital corridor at night. âHerb?â Hugh calls out, kicking off the blanket over his legs and climbing out. The voice in his head warns him, be wary. âNot now,â he dismisses it with a shush, and ignores the migraine it gives him. He fumbles through the room to the store front. Hugh finds his father on the street, staring at a figure in front of him. He grimaces as his eyes play tricks on him, mixing up a shadow and that figure⌠he doesnât recognize his own voice, uttering the word he had not in a while. ââŚmom?âÂ
Sarah Stewart, emaciated and in a hospital gown, does not appear the way Hugh remembers but as the image from her dying days. His mind doesnât compute with his heart beating hot with fear and confusion and anger and sorrow. âSarah.â He hears his father whispering, whimpering. âDad, no, get backââ he sees Sarah reaching out to touch Herbert in the cheek. He sees his father collapsing to the ground. His eyes meet with his motherâs, and they nail such horror into his chest. âIâm so sorry, baby.â Her otherworldly voice echoes as she glides toward him. His legs move on their own, backing away from his mother, as the voice in his head goes, do not let it touch you.Â
@hal-stewartâ
It had been over a year since Hal has spoken to his father. Other than the two corresponding souless âhappy birthdayâ texts father and son exchanged, 2020 had gone by as a record breaking year of not words exchanged face to face. Even in the bad olâ days, Hal would at least argue with the man face to face and call him an asshole to his face. Over the year heâd heard from plenty of people that Evening Primrose was doing quite well since its reopening, and yet he hadnât set foot there, not even once. Hal did in no way buy into the whole âNew year, new meâ bullshit and the positive resolutions that no one really kept, but a tiny part of him -the one that his girlfriend wisely nurtured to make better decisions- thought it might do him some mental and emotional good to somewhat mend the rift with Herbert Stewart.
He knew he had zero intentions of apologizing -Herb owed him about a dozen more apologies than he owed him to begin with...- and he just walked on towards the diner, trying not to picture how the conversation might go down because heâd just think what his father always said, heâd just get pissed, turn around and walk back home. Hugh had enough on his plate to also be their mediator, so with any luck the alchemist and his father would reach some semblance of serenity between them that allowed them to talk sporadically and maybe even up their two yearly texts to a healthy eight or ten, if things went well.
Hal was getting close to the diner when he spotted two figures on the street far ahead. He immediately got a sense that something was wrong when a third person dashed out to the street and the first man collapsed to the concrete. Halâs steps slowed, a deep frown furrowing his brow. Fuck, he thought as he was close enough to see the building those people had walked out from bore the old school diner sign of Evening Primrose. His slow and wary steps turned into a quick sprint in seconds and he distinguished his brother and his father, fainted, as they were both showered by the dim light of the street lamps. âHey, back off!â he shouted as he ran to them, certain without shadow of a doubt that the woman that stood there was a threat to his family. His magic was pulsating warm through his veins, ready to transmute his wristwatch into an enchanted weapon to fend off that bizarre looking woman. The second she turned around to look at him Hal could feel his legs fail him, making him stagger, come to an abrupt halt. His insides lurched, his breath caught in his throad violently. The image of that woman hurt him, shattered him in all the familiar ways and all he could do was stare at her, wide-eyed, lowering his hand from the watch he was about to use as raw material for a weapon against her... âMom?â he muttered, taking a hesitant step closer, eyes suddenly bright with tears. A sob shook him. He didnât even have a chance to question how or why she was there before he was fully blinded by emotion. Even though she looked withered and as gaunt as she had in those last days when Sarah Stewart smiled at him, Hal was ready to reach out and hold his mom.












