Chapter Text
Hunter opened his eyes, blinking slowly in an attempt to clear his foggy vision. Except the fog wouldn’t dissipate. Instead of looking straight up at the yellow popcorn ceiling or even seeing the wooden panels of the walls, he was staring up at a hazy night sky.
Billowing smoke drifted above him, twirling in infinities around the pinpoint white stars. No moon was visible that he could catch, straining his head from side to side, his eyes darting to follow the barely visible patterns miles above him. The little dots he could still see would flicker with a dying light, trying hard to go out, just to change their mind and grow stronger once again. The projected halo ring around each one, constantly expanding and shrinking, brought about a feeling of deep unease. It took a second, but the pattern imitated his own heartbeat that was steadily pounding; it was like a pulse; his own pulse. He could sense its rhythm clearly, more than see it.
What Hunter found more intriguing was the lack of color: blazing white, followed by nothingness. He couldn’t even be certain it was a sky; it just appeared as empty. A perfect void pierced by holes.
Reaching up, the smoke responded to his outstretched fingers, twisting through the gaps. Crystals of ice formed on his fingertips and coated his nails until he lowered his hand. The frost remained unmoved. He tried breathing on his hands, but it stayed, numbing him to the cold.
Alright. Panic wouldn’t help now. Whatever this was, it was beyond him at that moment.
Yet, when a lone trill of some corvid pierced his skull, he gasped from the shockwave that hit him. Covering his ears did nothing to stop the sound. When it subsided into a low rumble, an aftereffect, a symphony erupted. Not just one, but what sounded like hundreds or thousands of crow-like screams. Their throaty screeches echoing and reverberating throughout his very core. His brain rattling inside, his body vibrating with the exploding hum.
Yelling out, he buried his face to the side, trying to shield at least one ear from the onslaught of non-stop noise. It did little, if anything, to stop his heart racing. Nausea slowly crept in, his vision blurred, his hands shook from the effort to stay conscious from it all.
In a single beat, everything stopped. The crows, the stars, the pulse, the sound. The only things that remained were Hunter and the fog still drifting above. He shouldn’t even be able to see it; his only light source was gone, but the haze still stood out against the black everything.
Trying not to throw up what little remained in his stomach, after a triumphant attempt, he sat up, instantly bringing one knee up and pressing it against himself. Half hugging his leg, his exaggerated breaths came to a stop.
The eerie silence settled heavy in the atmosphere. The frost from before crept further down until it covered his entire forearm in specks of unsettling pale blue. It spread further, appearing to double-back its assault, holding up his arm with a sudden realization that he was becoming transparent.
He couldn’t think clearly with the increased sensation, the bite of cold striking his every nerve. It’s never been just this before. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Some kind of large, intimidating beast, or maybe strangers in the dark, giving chase as he ran through a forest. This kind of emptiness was unprecedented. He couldn’t even open his lips to call out anymore, glued shut as they were.
Caught in this whirlwind of fear, in the same position he held himself in; his body locked into place firmly. It felt like an eternity; the ice continuing its journey across his body until the cold stopped. His eyes closed, and he felt his skin crack, and he shattered.
With a yelp, Hunter jolted up, knocking the shawl off of his lap and on to the floor. His heaving lungs, sucking up as much oxygen as they would allow, are the only sound in the whole room. After a bit of time, he noticed just how dark it was out the window. The sun had already set, possibly for hours. The difference of time from when he had fallen asleep to right now didn’t register for several minutes. It almost felt like an impossibility.
Last he remembered, it wasn’t even past noon when he dozed off. For it to be this late into the evening and for him to have gone undisturbed for that long, all seemed ludicrous. Surely his uncle would have scolded him for lazing about when there was always more work to be done.
Speaking of which, he craned his head around towards the back door. It remained locked, just like Uncle had left it this morning.
Sliding his legs over to sit upright felt like a challenge. They were stiff and needed a good stretch soon. Lifting his arms high, he did exactly that for his lower back and his shoulders, sore from his earlier chores.
He allowed himself a few minutes more to ponder on his dream. He could have sworn the chill was still there. Looking closely, he checked between his fingers where the frost had spread, and suddenly felt silly. It was just a dream! Nothing more than that, no sir! Laughing softly to himself, he finally stood, ignoring the slight wetness on his palms. It was just sweat. That was the only explanation.
The click of the lock finally ended his solitude. The door swung open; Uncle Phillip waltzing right in. His arms were thankfully full of brown paper bags. Hunter rushed to him and grabbed the two bags in his arms.
“Good evening, Love, I hope you didn’t miss me too much while I was out.” Uncle smiled softly, the scar over the bridge of his nose scrunching up.
“Uncle! I really did. Welcome home.” He wasn’t even lying when he said it. Though he wasn’t sure if he was more happy to see the groceries or his guardian. It seemed to be an even split between the two.
Uncle let out a soft scoff, reminiscent of a laugh, and then spun around to head back out to the car, leaving his ward to put up the colder items.
Hunter scurried fast across the freshly swept linoleum floor, with almost no suppression of his excitement, his socks slid at a damp spot. He nearly avoided slamming into the counter as he regained balance just in time. However, that did nothing to dampen the smile plastered across his face.
He yanked out the items, haphazardly putting everything away in what would appear to be a chaotic order for anyone not familiar with the young boy’s mind. He had a system in place, a meticulous system that his uncle was all the more happy to oblige in. It caused no issue to allow him the indulgence of these “little rituals”, as Uncle would refer to them. More than once, Hunter, having never needed to feel self-conscious around his uncle, would catch the older man with an amused smile and a quick shake of the head whenever Hunter set aside to partake in these quirks.
Phillip brought the few remaining parcels in from outside and placed them down beside the boy for him to continue to distribute everything to their destinations.
The majority were cans, but hey, at least these were in date! That was already a plus side. As he dug deeper, his hands landed on a cold pack of what felt to be chicken. With a confused look, he glanced over to his uncle, one brow lifted in question.
“Hm? Oh that, it was on sale.” Phillip hummed absently.
Hunter continued to stare at his uncle for several moments, as if he had grown antlers, though it wouldn’t be the oddest thing to happen. But it was unusual for him to pick up meat that wasn’t ground beef. It was always either too expensive, or a waste, since it was rare for Uncle to be upright long enough to cook. If it took longer than 30 minutes, it was almost always an immediate long shot, hence the cans and occasional ground beef.
Fresh chicken meant an actual thought out meal. Suspicious if this was really going to happen or if it would just end up getting freezer-burned like so many others before it, Hunter placed the package inside the freezer.
“That sounds great!” Hunter cleared his throat, hoping he wasn’t about to misstep. “OH! While you were gone, a lady called for you.”
Phillip turned his body towards his nephew fully with growing interest, gesturing for him to continue.
“S-She said sh-she was with Bright Industries or er s-something!” he stammered, suddenly feeling more nervous than before.
In having recalled the earlier phone call, the weird dream also came back to him. The pulsing lights, the infectious frost, and the crows calling to him made the previous conversation seem a thousand hours before, instead of just earlier that morning.
Phillip slammed his open palm onto the counter, rattling the ceramics inside the cabinets above. “What did I tell you about that awful stutter of yours?”
Hunter flinched back. He knew he should have waited. Or even allowed his uncle to see the message on his own while Hunter could be safely tucked away somewhere else. He was still curious about the application, though, which is why he pushed forward. He tried to focus on the important part, delivering the information, but he couldn’t help that his mind wanders sometimes. Just another reminder of how imperfect he is.
Head down, back straight, hands to the side; as if this would prevent further disaster. Before he could open his mouth, he forced his thoughts to straighten out. It helped to physically see the letters shape themselves in his mind’s eye. Finding the right combination could be a hit or miss, but this served a dual purpose. If Hunter just focused on what he would say, stopped his internal monologue for just one minute, he could speak without that insufferable stammer. The second purpose, he would be so distracted on finding the right set of words, his anxiety would forget its panic.
Carefully, while his eyes traced the invisible script, he parted his lips. “Yes, sir, my apologies. I wrote the information for you on the coffee table. Was there anything else I could do for you tonight?”
Phillip hummed pleasantly, moving his hand to place on the back of Hunter’s neck. It would have been a far miracle to expect that the man didn’t feel the exact moment the younger of the two tensed up. He paid no mind to this as he continued on, however, allowing to leave the action as it was without comment.
“Thank you, dear. Why don’t you finish putting the rest of the provisions away and then go to your room?” Using his other hand to tilt Hunter’s chin upward, the boy could see the annoyance in the fine lines of his uncle’s face had all but disappeared. “I’ll make us something for a late supper once I am ready.”
With a squeeze of his neck, his uncle’s fingers briefly getting tangled in the pale, blonde locks at the back, he released the boy.
Hunter waited to hear the footsteps grow further away until they were non-existent, meaning his uncle was fully on the carpet in the living room, before he turned around.
His racing heart tried to jump-start his lame brain into remembering it needed to turn back on. It was an odd sensation whenever he shut his mind down like that. It was a fine line between thinking freely and just acting. If only he could just act right, there wouldn’t be any need for this kind of workaround. Every time, it felt like he was tricking his beloved uncle into thinking he was good, that he was paying attention to everything the man had to offer him. When in reality, it was almost like a lie. He was playing a part to get what he wanted.
What did he want, however, always seemed to change? Peace, maybe? During the quieter hours of the early morning, when the world outside is slower than it ever has been, other little thoughts would pop out. Words like comfort, safety, affection, and one word he didn’t even dare to speak out loud. Freedom.
With a bitter shake of his head, Hunter sighed leaning on the counter. Food, all but forgotten. It wasn’t right for him to wish for such a thing. It was a downright insult to all that his uncle has done for him. After what happened with his father, too. Phillip may as well have raised him solo.
Best to shut those thoughts right up and focus on what he can do right now. Despite being very attentive to the commands he was given, sometimes, though, a little mischievous side would peek through. It was a dash of curiosity that Uncle both admired and loathed in him.
As quietly as he could, Hunter slowly inched closer to the living room alcove. There was no door to hide behind, almost like an open nook, but he could hide behind the wall ever so slightly and still hear.
So far, there wasn’t anything he could directly decipher. He couldn’t quite catch the beeps of the phone being dialed. His uncle must have already sat down and perhaps even already placed on hold for the stern lady. It was only another moment before he heard his uncle speak with his light, melodic voice.
“Yes, this is Phillip Wittebane, returning your call.”
Hunter couldn’t hear who was exactly on the other line, but could feel the frown in his uncle’s next set of words as clear as day.
“Yes, I know the hour is late, but this is a matter of great importance. Mrs. Blight would want to be informed immediately of my response. Besides, your message left no adequate time to call.”
Hunter gulped down the noise struggling to get out at the back of his throat, and tried to dig deeper into his memory if the lady had mentioned anything about a specific hour. He glanced towards the wall, as if looking for a clock, until he remembered his uncle has taken them all down. Apparently, the devil could keep time, too. It had been another fit, though, unlike the mirrors, this one was slightly more annoying to deal with the consequences.
His thoughts were once again interrupted by his uncle speaking in the next room.
“I would be more than happy to meet in person then. I am sure this would do well to please both your employers if we could arrange this at the next available opportunity.”
Whatever response was on the other line was lost to Hunter. From the sounds of it, Uncle would once again be taking a day-trip out. Cursing under his breath, he gave up his eavesdropping. It was clear he would not find out anymore tonight, and he really should return to the kitchen to finish his task.
Turning back around, he strode forward, only to run straight into his uncle. A look of surprise caught on Phillip’s face as his nephew bounced off his chest and landed clumsily on to the ground.
No one spoke. Hunter’s hands trembled, focusing all of his effort on some sort of cover that would convince his uncle he hadn’t just been sneaking around. Surely he could find some acceptable explanation. It shouldn’t be this hard?
Yeah. He was doomed.
“Hunter, I was under the impression you were quite busy at the moment?” Phillip was faster at recovering, barely fazed by his nephew’s fall. He didn’t look angry yet, more curious about finding the boy out of place. He normally did exactly as he was told, with a few exceptions, of course.
With doe-like eyes, Hunter blinked at an astounding rate. The gears turning awfully hard as he had yet to come up with anything useful.
Any moment now, his uncle would grow more cross with him, possibly with a long-suffering sigh to go along with it. Then he would reach down and grab Hunter by the scruff of his neck and drag him towards the back rooms. But… that wasn’t happening. Instead, his uncle started to… laugh? That was unusual.
“If you wanted to know what my ever so important call was about, I would have shared it with you. Honestly, boy.” He roughly grabbed Hunter under the arms and lifted him, like he weighed nothing, which was partially true.
In absolute shock, Hunter’s blinking did not stop. In a sort of trance, the reality sunk in that his uncle was amused, not mad.
Creaking out a questionable chuckle, Hunter bashfully spoke out, “y-yeah, I was coming in to ask you what you wanted me to leave out for dinner a-and I overheard you on the phone.” He then took a deep breath and asked what he’d been dying to know since Uncle returned. “She mentioned something about an application?”
He let the question hang in the air, his uncle’s arms still encircling him. This was a precarious position to be in. If he was wrong in reading his uncle correctly, he was going to have a few more bruises in the morning.
Instead, the smile grew on Phillip’s face.
“Yes, indeed. You see, God has afforded me the great ability to invest in his image. I had a dream a few weeks back of something grand. A way to spread the word about His glory.” Phillip took long strides back into the kitchen, pulling Hunter alongside him.
“It’s utterly genius. I will not dare to reveal it just yet. It’s merely a prototype of course. There are just a few things I am rather lacking.” He stops and twists Hunter around to face him, revealing a manic gleam in his electric blue eyes.
“You’ll help me, of course, won’t you? I have just the mission. You will be perfect for it.”
Hunter was lost in the way Uncle began to stroke his hair, like he was petting a family dog. As the events of the surreal evening played back on loop inside his head, things were rapidly clicking into place. This was an episode. It explained the mood swings, the fact that Uncle was in a surprisingly forgiving disposition, and although Hunter couldn’t confirm if his uncle had been drinking while he was out, he was pretty sure it still wouldn’t account for all of this. Whatever his uncle was prattling on about now. Hunter had stopped listening the moment he looked into his eyes and heard talks about a mission.
He really should pay attention, but now all he could think about was his uncle dragging more people into his plans. He had made an appointment with an actual company from the sounds of it, and he was going to present some kind of prototype? Hunter didn’t know what to think. All he knew was that he had to shield his uncle from the inevitable crash out that was going to occur from this.
At best, maybe the company woman would show a bit of interest in what had to be offered and entertain the idea for a while. At worst, they would laugh in his face, and then Hunter would be left to deal with the fallout. He didn’t even know what his uncle was debuting was part of the problem. Maybe he could convince him to look first, offer improvements. It was rare for his uncle to give unrestricted access to his work, but if he trusted anyone to look beforehand, it was Hunter. He just needed a bit of time.
As he zoned back in, he could hear Uncle continuing, “… tomorrow morning! How pleasantly exciting that is. They will have no choice but to admire its design, its purpose!”
Wait. Tomorrow morning!? That was way too soon. Hunter had no time to prepare. And what was this about a mission he mentioned earlier? He really wished he has been listening now. Still aware of fingers tangled in his hair once again, hoping that whatever he had to say wouldn’t result in them yanking instead.
Should he be excited as well? Or maybe more somber? It was hard to gage the exact emotions Uncle would expect, but he had to take a shot.
“That sounds…” just like that, his brain tripped. He started speaking before he decided what he was going to say. This was bad territory. He looked up, his uncle’s face expectant and waiting for him to continue.
“…wonderful! I can’t wait to see it!” As long as his long pause didn’t give him away, he should be in the clear. Thankfully, his reward was a beaming smile of yellow, cracked teeth, stained by tobacco, and that long stretch of time where the Colgate industry was run by Satan, apparently.
“How about we save the chicken for tomorrow to celebrate? Now do run along now, dear, I’ll make a favorite of yours tonight and then come tomorrow we mustn’t dawdle. We’re expected early, after all.”
On that note, Hunter was shooed away, using this opportunity, he quickly hurried to his bedroom. His uncle’s whistling followed him down the hall where finally he could silently shut the door and collapse on the bed.
He really wished he had a watch, there was no indication to tell exactly what time it was, having been asleep for most of the day. Uncle fixing supper wasn’t really a great way to tell time either, as he sporadically tended to make food when he felt like it. Hunter has been woken up at 1 in the morning on several occasions before to eat a bowl of spaghetti or finish off the left-over rice from the church pot luck. This was often accompanied by his uncles lop-sided grin, buzzed on more than communion wine.
He just had to pray that he could convince his uncle tonight, maybe after their nightly prayer, for him to see this invention. At least get the thought-process behind it so he can make a plan to smooth over any bumps with it.
It was going to be a long night, he thought as he leaned back further into a stretch. Who knows what will happen, he just hoped once again, that he’d be able to guide Uncle down from this trip once it’s all over, and then it will be normal again. Their normal, at least.