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𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑂𝑁𝐸 𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑌𝑜𝑟𝑘, 𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑌𝑜𝑟𝑘
☀︎︎
The world around him seemed to fall away, melting into a smudge of blues and greens until Edward felt like he was underwater. It felt like drowning at first- or at least what he thought drowning would feel like. His throat tightened and squeezed, no sound allowed to leave his lips and no air allowed to enter. But then, in a sudden movement, he was released, as if he was falling down and down, no end in sight, just to be tightened again.
Edward was being pushed into something far too small for his body. His arms twisted, legs stretched and thinned, the swirls around him looking like the watercolours that hung on his childhood walls. He gasped out for a breath, afraid he would be plunged back into the feeling of drowning soon again.
His mind grasped out to anything that could tell him what was happening, but he could remember nothing. Nothing... until his sister Peggy's face plopped up, eyes wide and lips moving fast but inaudible. Howard and Mr Jarvis must have been there too. But those people were always with him. It was nothing unusual. Nothing that would tell him what had happened to send him toppling through a colourful sense of nothingness.
Edward screamed as his foot seemed to slip, sending him toppling headfirst into whatever direction he was being pulled toward. The swirls and splodges seemed to die out, merging with more dark colours of forest greens and grey and black. Shapes were forming quickly, large and unfamiliar, like an abstract painting.
Edward started forward, his entire body jolting with a sudden movement which sent him hurtling toward his knees. He landed on something solid, and for a moment, with eyes closed, he believed he had reached a horrid end to a torturous journey. But, as eyelashes fluttered open, he recognised grass, real, lush grass. He reached out for it, feeling the damp blades beneath his fingers. With a spluttering cough, he rolled to his back, staring up at the sky above.
He cried out, pushing his hands up as a face appeared above him, features shadowed by the blocked-out sun. Edward squinted, eyes furrowing as he cleared the blur from his eyes.
"Mr Stark? What the bloody hell happened to your face?"
Howard blinked down at him, face morphing into a look of mild surprise. His face was touched by the sun, facial hair wrapping around his lips and chin, less defined than what Edward could remember it to look like. He wasn't wearing his usual smart jacket nor his favourite short-brimmed hat either. Behind Mr Stark, there were three men, dressed all in black, waiting with their hands tucked beneath their jackets.
"What's going on?" Edward asked, eyebrows furrowing. He still lay against the grass.
His eyes stared warily as he flicked his hand forward in some sort of signal.
