[HE IS NOT DROPPING HIS CLEANING EFFORTS FOR WHATEVER YOU ARE THROWING HIS WAY, and the ID badge stops and floats mid-air when it arcs closer to Henry.
Except... he knows the shape of it. The logo printed in plain black on the back, nestled at the bottom. Even the degree of the rounded, charred corners makes something familiar flicker in his memory. He knows it because he carried an ID badge like that once, too, clipped to his belt. His photo, coupled with a fake name: Peter Ballard.
Henry immediately loses interest in the cloth, in his shirt. He drops the former and extends a hand to pluck the badge out of the air, turning it over in his fingers.
The information there stares up at him. It feels like an electric shock, the charged burn of adrenaline running through him at the sight alone. Security clearance information he never could dream of possessing as a prisoner-orderly. A familiar photo. And a name: Dr. Martin Brenner.
no subject
Except... he knows the shape of it. The logo printed in plain black on the back, nestled at the bottom. Even the degree of the rounded, charred corners makes something familiar flicker in his memory. He knows it because he carried an ID badge like that once, too, clipped to his belt. His photo, coupled with a fake name: Peter Ballard.
Henry immediately loses interest in the cloth, in his shirt. He drops the former and extends a hand to pluck the badge out of the air, turning it over in his fingers.
The information there stares up at him. It feels like an electric shock, the charged burn of adrenaline running through him at the sight alone. Security clearance information he never could dream of possessing as a prisoner-orderly. A familiar photo. And a name: Dr. Martin Brenner.
Papa.]
Where... did you get this?
[Alec WHAT is HAPPENING]