#m: angsty

[1800nada-blog]

"I'm not going to make it."

At his words, it felt like the air itself was closing in on them. Blood was everywhere - her hands were covered in it as she pressed against his bleeding chest, fluttering helplessly against her hands as he breathed in short, shallow bursts. She didn’t know where Marlene was, and later, Melanie would be glad that it hadn’t been Marlene to be with James like this, no matter how badly her sister would splinter in front of her very eyes and shout herself hoarse at Melanie for not fixing him, for not getting Marlene, and for everything else that had spiraled so quickly beyond their control. No matter how much regret Marlene would have to cope with, it was far better than having this version of James flickering behind her eyelids night after night.

"No," she gasped. "James, don’t. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay." She repeated the phrase like a mantra, as though saying it aloud would make it true. She didn’t realize she was practically sobbing in the midst of her panic. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s all okay.

"Mellie," he wheezed. "I’m - I’m sorry…just, tell them…I love them. I love you." His voice was growing smaller by the second, as though life was seeping from him between her fingers. He opened his mouth as though he was going to say something else, but something horrible and gurgling emerged instead. Instantly, Melanie's arms slid around James entirely, and she was clutching him against her chest when his last breath slipped from his throat like a weary sigh and he fell entirely limp.

[1800nada-blog]

“Shit, are you bleeding?!”

"I’m fine," she dismissed breathlessly, her hands already tugging at the torn fabric of Marlene’s bloodstained shirt in order to reveal the tattered skin beneath. The collapse had been instant - one second they’d been slipping between two buildings in Knockturn Alley in pursuit of who they were sure was Dolohov, and the next explosions were rattling the streets. It was unexpected for there to be an attack on Knockturn Alley, of all places, but perhaps that was the point. Anyone who was heavily involved in the Death Eater propaganda could be shuttled out, and the remaining bystanders were either those whose loyalties were more uncertain or Order members like the McKinnons who’d been sent to spy.

Either way, the message was clear - the Death Eaters were willing to go to any length to ensure the loyalties of their supporters. Anyone against them would be left coughing in the rubble much like Melanie had done moments ago, scrambling to her feet and instantly finding Marlene trying to similarly prop herself up.

"No. Melanie, you’re bleeding,” she repeated, only allowing herself one strangled-sounding cough as she inhaled a good mouthful of dust. “I swear to Merlin má tá tú bleed chun báis right in front of me because you’re being a bloody martyr - “

"Shut up, Marlene,” Melanie snapped, desperation and panic and fear all rolling into one and fueling her urgency as she traced over Marlene’s ribcage with her wand, Marlene’s skin knitting together. “We have to get out of here, and I’m in much better shape than you. They might come back, and ní mór dúinn a insint Mad-Eye - ” She was promptly cut off as Marlene shoved Melanie’s hands away, heaving herself up with a groan of pain and grabbing at Melanie’s arms (partially to keep herself from swaying back to the ground and partially to get her sister’s arse moving). The McKinnons disappeared with a pop, leaving nothing but dusty footprints and a pile of rubble in their wake.

[1800nada-blog]

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

It had been a week by then since Melanie’s mother had been murdered, and for the entirety of that week she’d distanced herself from the reality of the situation - the funeral had been a numb blur of hands patting her shoulder and “sorry for your loss”s, and even the sight of the closed casket hadn’t given Melanie any measure of feeling. It was easy to feel like her mother wasn’t in the box they’d lowered so carefully into the ground, or that it was all just a dream Melanie would wake up from any second now if she just waited it out long enough.

She was distantly aware that she was being difficult. She hadn’t talked much in days, and subconsciously, maybe she was doing it on purpose. Part of it was the shock certainly, but she knew the fear would wash over her soon enough. The people she loved could all potentially be ripped away from her just as violently as her mother had been.

As a result, it took a moment for Fabian’s words to sink in. The statement had seemingly been pulled out of thin air - they hadn’t been talking, instead silently sipping tea in the kitchen as dusk settled just outside their window. He was looking at her so earnestly that the eye contact almost hurt, and yet Melanie found she couldn’t rip her gaze away from the blistering honesty that seemed nearly tangible in the pregnant pause that settled between them.

She wasn’t sure when it was that she wilted, but suddenly his arms were around her and she was sobbing and she knew, she knew that it wasn’t going to be the end no matter how badly she wanted their world to stop crumpling beneath their feet.

[1800nada-blog]

“Shh, c’mere…”

Melanie could feel her furious heartbeat coursing through every bit of her, the thumping almost unbearably loud in her own ears as panic still flickered behind her eyelids. Half of her was still running; the remains of her nightmare lingered, the images of everyone she loved crumpling to the ground still fresh. The nightmares were always the same - she was helpless and everyone was dead, her two greatest fears combined into one, and they had been occurring with such a greater frequency now that it was a wonder they affected her in the same way after all of this time. She should be used to it, perhaps, or desensitized by then.

It made her feel so unbearably small, and it was only the realization that she was being tightly pressed to Fabian’s chest that brought her back, his mouth pressed against her ear with strings of soothing words. “It was so real,” she breathed. His palm flattened against her back as though he could physically keep her from shattering in his arms. “I know, love. I know,” he murmured against the crown of her head, and together, they picked up her pieces.

[1800nada-blog]

“I’m not cut out for this.” [Fabian. The others I'm going to send you will also be Fabian (saying this so I can be lazy and not type out his name every time).]

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be dramatic. You’re doing fine. Even Marlene can manage to dice a tomato.” She glanced over from where she was standing at the stove to catch a glimpse of a very helpless and moderately grumpy-looking Fabian, standing to her left with a knife in his hand and a massacred half of a tomato on the cutting board. “It doesn’t have to look like anything spectacular, anyway.”

Fabian made a whining noise. “But it’s boring. Isn’t this what we have magic for?” Every now and then, Melanie would have a spare moment between missions and shifts and patrols and would suddenly feel the urge to cook something more elaborate than a microwave. She found going through the motions the Muggle way oddly therapeutic. Fabian, however, did not seem to agree.

She turned down the stove so it wouldn’t set anything on fire unattended and moved over to him, her arms slipping around him from behind and her hands settling over his to guide the knife. Given that he was bigger it was a bit difficult to peer around his broad-shouldered self to ensure nobody lost a thumb, but she managed. “See, you’re not holding it right. You’ve got to - there. Like that. And there you go. It’s not nearly as hard as you’re making it out to be.”

She could hear the grin in his voice as he replied. “Well, look at that. And I got you over here instead of over there, so really, everyone wins.” With his true intentions no longer transparent she elbowed him, though she too was smiling.