Who? Young!Hem, Abi, and probably Older!Hem later. Where? Near the bakery at first When? Halloween What? Trickery! Treats! The island playing games. Rating? TBD Open? No
Ernest's head was spinning wildly with thoughts and emotions, as he limped his way down the street, leaning heavily onto his stick and trying not to grimace or frown or look like he was even slightly pained. He didn't want their sad little looks, he didn't want their pity, or sympathy, or any of it. Fuck them all. Fuck everyone and their war hero worship bullshit.
He did feel bad that he'd just completely ignored Marcie, and outright snapped at the littler ones. But who had the time to sit around and talk about a fucking high school softball game? What was the point?
He just needed space to breathe and think and not be suffocated by people and their questions and assumptions anymore. He didn't have the energy to keep up the charade. In some ways, he wished he was back in hospital.
Reaching a bench, he decided to give his leg a rest and took a seat, finally looking around him and taking in the real world again. Where the fuck was he, anyway?