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Summary
It has been a few weeks since the broadcasts - a week since they ceased. A week since he grabbed you, the planes flying over, one brushing much too close before skittering and descending into the sea. Several days since you stopped hearing from anyone. A couple days since those bruises faded from how tightly he held you, something akin to panic almost registering in metallic limbs and expression as he stared at burning wreckage that stood where you did minutes ago, trees thrashed to pieces in the wake of the avian monstrosity.
A day since you more openly contemplated upon ‘him’ rather than ‘it’.
You fear you’re losing it, even with this development aside.
(AU-ish Post-Apocalypse story where Brobot and Jake might very well be the last sort-of-living things on Earth.)
Series
- Part 1 of Hunting for Witches