This has probably been made clear, ha, but I would love to see more of Me And My Alien Dad. :D
(also including my Deep One Newt AU because I just like it)
The book slips from Hermann’s hands.
For a moment, the world seems to freeze around him as it falls. The covers open, pages waving almost in slow motion-
Then it hits the floor binding first with a sickening crack, Hermann lurches to pick it up- but it’s too late, Lars has noticed.
“Careful there.” He says absently, glancing up over his desk, “Take your time.”
“I’m sorry.” Hermann breathes.
“No matter, come here.” Hermann shuffles over, half-bracing for a blow,
His father looks at him, lifts his hand and Hermann recoils, one hand coming up to block the slap.
Lars stops, hand in the air, he looks at Hermann in bafflement. “I only want the book.” He opens his hand, lets Hermann put it in his hand. “Thank you.”
He doesn’t open it at once, however, looking at Hermann. Hermann shifts under the scrutiny, but this isn’t Lars’ usual scowl- piercing, evaluating him and always finding him wanting- it’s softly, more confused than anything else.
“If you would rather be elsewhere,” he says gently, “You can go, I’m happy for your help but-”
Hermann shakes his head hard. This is better than he could have imagined, he doesn’t know what he’s done and is terrified he’ll find a way to ruin it somehow- but he can’t leave.
“All right.” He gently pats Hermann’s shoulder, “I’m thinking of taking an outing anyway, we could get some fresh air.”
Lars looks at the car, and his face falls. Hermann looks at him and he sighs. “Get in please.”
Hermann hesitates at first, which is good, because Lars pulls out the keyless fob and bumps it against the car door a few times, a bewildered look on his face until Hermann gently takes it from him, and presses the button. The door locks click.
“Thank you.” Lars sighs. As Hermann goes to his side, he hears Lars grumble “grathak halfthought piece of- when are they going to get optical locks-”
He fumbles a little at the dashboard too, flicking knobs and briefly switching on the radio before he snaps “Garthak,” again, and finds the ignition.
They crawl slowly out of the garage, the gears crash a few times before Lars manages to get the car in gear, tensing as they slip cautiously on to the main roads.
“When are you people going to learn how to fly?” Lars growls.
Hermann barely dares to breathes as they move onto the motorway, Lars has always been a foul tempered driver, and Hermann doesn’t want to draw his attention.
But slowly, he starts to calm down and relax, sighing a few times before they turn onto a coutry road and he starts smiling a little.
Hermann takes the risk, “Where are we going?”
“A small village, there are some people I want to talk to.” There’s a pause, Hermann doesn’t say anything, he can feels Lars weighing up whether to say more.
“Humans aren’t the only ones on this world, you know.” He says suddenly.Hermann blinks at him.
“Not everyone knows this,” he continues, “And they try and keep it quiet, but it’s true. We’re going to meet some now.”
“Oh.” Hermann looks out of the windscreen, not sure what to think. “Are they aliens?”
“No. They live under the sea. They are very, very old, and some might have information I need.”
Somehow, that’s easier to believe than aliens. Hermann nods.
“They also look very strange, so I am warning you ahead of time.”
Hermann nods again, the car crests over a hill, and they can see over thee low hills to the sparkling sea beyond. The road grows more and more gutted and ancient, overgrown.
“They’ve gotten rather isolationist.” Lars comments, turning hard to avoid a massive pothole. “There used to be a bus route when I was last here.”
Hermann looks at him, bewildered. This road looks like it’s been abandoned for decades and the only moved to Arkham two years ago.
“There we go-” they round a hill and drift down into an ancient car park. Hermann stares around in fascination. There are a grand total of two cars there, and one is a weathered and burnted out hulk of what might have once been a model T Ford.
“They have been renovating.” Lars says approvingly as they step out of the car into the stiff sea breeze and blazing sunshine. “It use to be complete wreck and now look.”
Hermann looks. It looks like a quiet, seaside town to him. There are flowers and the streets are cobbled, and it’s only after a few minutes that he notices the oddly rounded shapes of the houses, the coral and shells standing in delicate decoration, how most of the gardens seem to be standing around fountains, and bloom with anemones and colourful seaweed.
“Now, they are probably not used to human visitors.” Lars continues as they walk down, “So don’t look shocked or surprised. We are here for a reason.”
Hermann nods, and is grateful for the warning because the first time someone swims up from a pool and stares massive, unblinking eyes at them, he is rather tempted to stop and stare.
He fixes his eyes ahead and- by pure instinct, reaches for Lars’ hand.
Lars starts at the touch, but before Hermann can apologise he smiles. “It’s okay.” And takes his hand.
