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Jul. 7th, 2007 01:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Mornings are hard. Finn can't handle being alone in the mornings (it's easier later in the day, but in the mornings--when he's just woken up from dreams that leave him in tears--it is impossible). So no matter when he wakes up--and this morning it was very early, before the light had started streaming through his window--he stays under his covers until Henry knocks on the door. He can pretend, underneath his covers, that the room is not empty, that he's not going to be faced with the fact that there is no one else around (Finn has always been a family person. The Hunt just gave him more brothers to be taken away).
Finn can't see the clock as the sun grows higher and higher but he knows something is wrong. Henry usually knocks early in the day, soon after the rays peek over the window. It is--halfway through the day, maybe--when he finally realizes he has to look for him (what if he's hurt? Henry wouldn't forget him--but maybe he did, maybe he just doesn't realize, maybe he should go find him. And if he's hurt--then triply, quadrupally so). He pulls back the covers and hastily gets changed (the clock says it is 1:00 pm, and Finn worries).
He first goes to knock on Henry's door, a hurried, insistent beat of where are you, where are you but he doesn't answer so he runs downstairs and out through the green grass into the small shipyard where they have worked these many mornings. But Henry's not there. He doesn't even notice that the Black Pearl is gone (when it moved it was harder to see already, so the empty spot on the lake does not register at all).
He runs back inside and prowls around the interior calling his name. When people look at him worriedly or ask what's wrong, he just asks them if they know where Henry is and none of them do and he continues on without explanation (they're not important, he doesn't even know their names).
Then Finn's outside again, crying "Henry!" with a voice that's gone raw, and he finally sees it. The Pearl is gone.
Henry said he'd been going to work on it with his Captain Sparrow later in the day, yesterday (he'd asked if Finn had wanted to help, in that sort of offhand way which implied that his help wasn't actually needed, and Finn had smiled and said he would be drawing and would see him later). And it is gone.
Finn's a bright boy, and has lost enough people to know what that means.
There's a soft, wounded and inhuman keening out by the lake, and a teenage boy staring into where the Black Pearl once was.
(He's alone.)
Finn can't see the clock as the sun grows higher and higher but he knows something is wrong. Henry usually knocks early in the day, soon after the rays peek over the window. It is--halfway through the day, maybe--when he finally realizes he has to look for him (what if he's hurt? Henry wouldn't forget him--but maybe he did, maybe he just doesn't realize, maybe he should go find him. And if he's hurt--then triply, quadrupally so). He pulls back the covers and hastily gets changed (the clock says it is 1:00 pm, and Finn worries).
He first goes to knock on Henry's door, a hurried, insistent beat of where are you, where are you but he doesn't answer so he runs downstairs and out through the green grass into the small shipyard where they have worked these many mornings. But Henry's not there. He doesn't even notice that the Black Pearl is gone (when it moved it was harder to see already, so the empty spot on the lake does not register at all).
He runs back inside and prowls around the interior calling his name. When people look at him worriedly or ask what's wrong, he just asks them if they know where Henry is and none of them do and he continues on without explanation (they're not important, he doesn't even know their names).
Then Finn's outside again, crying "Henry!" with a voice that's gone raw, and he finally sees it. The Pearl is gone.
Henry said he'd been going to work on it with his Captain Sparrow later in the day, yesterday (he'd asked if Finn had wanted to help, in that sort of offhand way which implied that his help wasn't actually needed, and Finn had smiled and said he would be drawing and would see him later). And it is gone.
Finn's a bright boy, and has lost enough people to know what that means.
There's a soft, wounded and inhuman keening out by the lake, and a teenage boy staring into where the Black Pearl once was.
(He's alone.)
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Date: 2007-07-26 03:10 am (UTC)He has tape stuck over it now, holding it back into shape. It looks slightly undignified, which means that it's less than the optimum conditions under which to talk to Finn -
- but from the way he looks and sounds, right now, optimum conditions aren't so much of a concern.
Paul knows enough to know that Finn in this state, mishandled, could very possibly be dangerous not just to himself or to Paul but to the bar as well.
"Finn," he says, quietly. "What has happened?"
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