Tuesday, 1:12 AM is the moment when the tag #turn-back-the-clock was totally overtaken by SPG fans losing their collective shit.
Ach. My feels. Good job, Ms. Bennett!
A few months ago I wrote a “Honeybee” inspired fic that those suffering from the effects of “Turn Back The Clock” might enjoy
if they are masochists. Click here to read “Hello, Good-bye" and see below for an excerpt.
“That’s odd,” Hatchworth noted, lifting his head to look at the Spine and Rabbit, standing above him. “How come there are no pictures of dear, sweet, Little Melissa?”
Rabbit’s shoulders fell. The Spine’s mouth hung open and he shot a worried glance at his older brother. Too late. The cat was out of the bag. A black oil-tear landed on the table and Michael and Steve gasped. Rabbit put a hand to his cheek, almost as shocked as they were that he was crying. A look of panic crossed his face and distraught and silent, he turned on his heel and ran from the room. The Spine called after him, but he did not respond.
Hatchworth fretted, rubbing his hands and fidgeting, apologizing for whatever it was he said to offend, but The Spine put his hand on his shoulder and quieted him. The humans held their breath. “Don’t worry Hatchworth, it’s nothing you’ve done wrong. Rabbit’s just very sensitive, you know that.”
Michael stared at the photo of Mark and Wanda. “It’s about this Melissa, isn’t it?” he whispered. “Was she in this photo?”
The Spine heaved a sigh and steam exhaled from his vents. He turned a chair around and took a seat next to Hatchworth, across from Steve and Michael. “I suppose it’s too late to back-track now…”