Unaware of the weird phenomenon once again wrapping around a family member, he's up just before dawn, and out for a run. The stuff with Klaus sits uncomfortably in the back of his head, all the more reason to push some more serotonin into his brain. It's not running away from a problem. He's running with a problem, and it's not really a problem. Shouldn't be a problem.
Wouldn't be a problem if Luther trusted any new development that involves their excuse for a father.
By the time Luther hits a lovely, tree-lined avenue not far from the house, he's feeling a lot better. His blood's pumping, the sun has fully risen and beams down on his back-- a promising start for a great day. If not great, then good, which is absolutely nothing to thumb his nose up about. About any day in Darrow beats the majority of days in the other timelines.
The other timelines, not about to take this narrative bullshit, bite back.
Luther hits a brand new crack in the pavement, feels both his feet come off the ground--
--and then he's in several places at once. The farm. The briefcase. The Sparrow Academy. Hotel Oblivion. He lives another week, only it's a Hargreeves week, so it might as well be a year. He gets his heart broken and mended. He gets married.
He dies.
Klaus brings him back, for a moment or two.
He dies again, and then he's flat on his stomach in Darrow coughing on blood that he's pretty sure is just from his nose. People have gathered to try and help him up, so he gently pushes them aside.
Only one place to go, and Luther sprints there, holding some scrap of fabric given to him by a bystander, trying to staunch the nosebleed. Luther nearly tears the door off the hook, storming into the house. "HELLO? IS ANYONE HERE?"
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Unaware of the weird phenomenon once again wrapping around a family member, he's up just before dawn, and out for a run. The stuff with Klaus sits uncomfortably in the back of his head, all the more reason to push some more serotonin into his brain. It's not running away from a problem. He's running with a problem, and it's not really a problem. Shouldn't be a problem.
Wouldn't be a problem if Luther trusted any new development that involves their excuse for a father.
By the time Luther hits a lovely, tree-lined avenue not far from the house, he's feeling a lot better. His blood's pumping, the sun has fully risen and beams down on his back-- a promising start for a great day. If not great, then good, which is absolutely nothing to thumb his nose up about. About any day in Darrow beats the majority of days in the other timelines.
The other timelines, not about to take this narrative bullshit, bite back.
Luther hits a brand new crack in the pavement, feels both his feet come off the ground--
--and then he's in several places at once. The farm. The briefcase. The Sparrow Academy. Hotel Oblivion. He lives another week, only it's a Hargreeves week, so it might as well be a year. He gets his heart broken and mended. He gets married.
He dies.
Klaus brings him back, for a moment or two.
He dies again, and then he's flat on his stomach in Darrow coughing on blood that he's pretty sure is just from his nose. People have gathered to try and help him up, so he gently pushes them aside.
Only one place to go, and Luther sprints there, holding some scrap of fabric given to him by a bystander, trying to staunch the nosebleed. Luther nearly tears the door off the hook, storming into the house. "HELLO? IS ANYONE HERE?"