"Stay on the bottom floor cause I can't go runnin' up or down stairs right now," he said with a curl of his lips.
As he turned and headed off, he started paying attention to the house itself. It wasn't Penhew House, but it once was its superior. The hallways were grand but as soon as he started stepping into rooms, he was getting a different picture. This wasn't a house, it was an asylum. It didn't take him long for his head to come around to the idea that there might be something useful to Malcolm in here, to say nothing of the proper restraints that they could take with them. Restraints that wouldn't break and risk cutting Malcolm's wrists open.
It was in the office that he got stuck, convinced there would be something in the paperwork and in his shuffling, he hit a inconspicuous card holder. The memory that washed over him was short-
We love Dad and the way he smiles, the way he explains things and engages with us and this cocoa is pretty delicious too. We were going to have to remember our manners and thank the nice lady in the kitchen.
"Dad?"
It's just a box and if it's down here, it must be for a reason but we just can't help ourselves..
When Raylan came out of it, he did so with a sharp breath as he stumbled back, catching himself on the side wall as he stared bewilderingly at the desk, the sharp smell of chloroforms stinging in his nose. He didn't know what Martin Whitly looked like. But somehow, he knew that's who it was. Which made the little boy.. Malcolm.
Raylan peeked out into the hallway, eyes a little wide and hoping desperately to hear any sign of Malcolm shuffling around. Part of him wanted to call out, to summon the profiler but.. That was foolish. To be spooked and need reassurance. No, he'd start with his ears.
no subject
As he turned and headed off, he started paying attention to the house itself. It wasn't Penhew House, but it once was its superior. The hallways were grand but as soon as he started stepping into rooms, he was getting a different picture. This wasn't a house, it was an asylum. It didn't take him long for his head to come around to the idea that there might be something useful to Malcolm in here, to say nothing of the proper restraints that they could take with them. Restraints that wouldn't break and risk cutting Malcolm's wrists open.
It was in the office that he got stuck, convinced there would be something in the paperwork and in his shuffling, he hit a inconspicuous card holder. The memory that washed over him was short-
We love Dad and the way he smiles, the way he explains things and engages with us and this cocoa is pretty delicious too. We were going to have to remember our manners and thank the nice lady in the kitchen.
"Dad?"
It's just a box and if it's down here, it must be for a reason but we just can't help ourselves..
When Raylan came out of it, he did so with a sharp breath as he stumbled back, catching himself on the side wall as he stared bewilderingly at the desk, the sharp smell of chloroforms stinging in his nose. He didn't know what Martin Whitly looked like. But somehow, he knew that's who it was. Which made the little boy.. Malcolm.
Raylan peeked out into the hallway, eyes a little wide and hoping desperately to hear any sign of Malcolm shuffling around. Part of him wanted to call out, to summon the profiler but.. That was foolish. To be spooked and need reassurance. No, he'd start with his ears.