Work Text:
The first morning after the Labyrinth run, her alarm clock doesn't work. After a year, she can short out a telephone at a touch and a television from fifteen feet away. Eventually cars stop working. Engines sputter. Dashboard clocks blink. Odometers spin backwards.
Five years. She sits in the back, eyes closed, hoping. But seat belts unclasp. Brakes squeak, squeal, screech, finally fail. Metal crunches.
Irene goes through the windshield. Sarah strikes her father's bucket seat; he hits the steering wheel. Only Toby in his carseat is safe.
It hurts too much. She makes a wish.
Later, she hates herself.