Behind His Eyes

Chapter 16: "This Isn't Real!"

I do not own Tangled the Series, the characters, or the cover. (I own Apollo.) Thank you.

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"Dad?" Varian's voice came out as a barely audible whisper. 

Quirin smiled as he outstretched his arms. Hopping off his bed, Varian sprint towards his father and embraced him. He had longed for so many months to do this. It didn't make sense how his father was here, but Varian didn't care. He just wanted to be held. He wanted to be comforted. He wanted to be loved. 

It had been so long since Quirin had hugged his son, seeing as he wasn't comfortable with physical touch. It seemed unnecessary and awkward when the two would do it, but, in this moment, it was perfect. 

Too perfect. 

"How did you get here? How were you freed from the amber?" The boy's words were muffled in his father's shoulder.

"Shh. Hush." Quirin's words were gentle and warm, "The only thing that's important is that I'm here. Everything is going to be alright." His deep tone was rich and consoling.

Something didn't feel quite right. For an unknown reason, Varian didn't cry, shake, or tremble. Something was absent in Varian's mind, he wanted to buy into the blissful reality, but something wasn't connecting in his brain. That bothered him. 

Then. He realized what it was. 

Varian's ankles were cuffed to the bed.

Pushing away from his father, the alchemist looked at his feet. No cuffs. He couldn't see them, but he could feel the cold pressure surrounding his twiggy limbs. Looking back at his father, a horror overcame him. Quirin visibly noticed the shift behind his son's eyes. "What's wrong?" He reached his arms out to hug his son, instantly the boy threw himself backwards. 

"You're not my father!" Varian shouted, louder than he wanted to. His father would never hug him. That wasn't in his nature. A red light went off in the back of the boy's mind. Whatever was going on, it wasn't good. "This." The boy swallowed an unexpected lump in his throat, "This isn't real!" 

At those words, Quirin's expression changed. He was no longer the burly, protective father Varian knew so well, he was a white-haired, tall man with a goatee and a mustache. 

A stranger. 

"Who are you?" The boy gasped as he fell himself fall backwards and onto a comfortable surface. Suddenly he became aware of a tentacle-like something wrapped around his entire body. He couldn't move. The distressed alchemist fought against the restraints and tried to rapidly open and close his eyes in an attempt to be brought back to reality. 

"Do something!" He heard a woman's voice command. 

"I'm trying!" A man retorted. 

Varian couldn't see the source of either of these voices as they seemed to surround and engulf him. 

"If you calm him down, I can get a hold on him." The unseen man spoke to the lady. 

The world was spinning around the dizzy boy. His chest ached, and he could feel cold sweat dripping down his forehead. He opened his eyes and realized he was still in the physician's quarters; however, Apollo was no where in sight. 

The white-haired man who had morphed into his father was standing at the foot of the bed, and a strange woman with horn-like hair was leaning towards his face. Way too close for comfort. Varian trying in vain to free himself from whatever was holding him still, noticed a peculiar staff that the elderly woman was holding. She began tapping it on the ground.