RP: What have you done to my son? Date: 31 March 2006 (early hours of the morning) Characters: Miles, Liam, Romilda, Daphne Location: Bletchley Manor Private/Public: Private Rating: PG Warnings: - Summary: It was only a matter of time before Romilda found out that Liam was sick, and that it was all Miles' fault. (but everything is always Miles' fault anyway, so why is she surprised?)
When was this nightmare going to end? Liam was not getting any better - if anything, he seemed to be getting a little worse. Miles didn't want to think that his son was as sick as Daphne had been, but he kept a vigil over the boy's bed as he slept. Miles couldn't, in all consciousness leave his son's bedside.
Miles certainly wasn't getting any sleep - not until Liam was better. Dare he ask the Lestranges for more of the cure, when Liam had already been treated with it in the first place? He had no idea, but for now it was all Miles could do to tend to the boy's fever and... wait.
He was never one for waiting at the best of times, but he had urged Daphne to get some sleep - one of them had to be functioning during the day for Nigel's sake, and in case the worst...
It was hard not to contemplate the worst, as he watched Liam sleeping so peacefully (He had to check several times that the boy was actually sleeping and not... thank Merlin he was only asleep and not dead).
It should have been him lying there and dying from the disease he'd let off for the Lestranges. As much as Daphne would console him and tell him he wasn't to know and was only following orders, he felt that he deserved a just punishment for this.
He prayed to Merlin not to take Liam away from him - not like this. It was hard for Miles to believe it hadn't even been a year since he learned of the boy's existence, and he was now so used to the idea of having his son in his life, that to think the worst...
Running his hands over his face, he let out a deep sigh. "Come on, Liam," he whispered to the sleeping boy. "You're a Bletchley, and you're a fighter - you can't give up on me, not when you're innocent of all this."
"You have to get well so you can play quidditch, and wrestle dragons, and go play with your young friends. Yes, even Ella." He'd promise the world if it meant Liam would wake up feeling better, and hungry and wanting to play. It was all he asked for.
He heard a snorted laugh and looked up. Romilda was sneering down at him as she hovered over the bed. There was that look on her face that he was beginning to know far too well. Almost instinctively he raised a privacy charm, so not to wake Liam unnecessarily.
"What do you want?" he asked her in a low grumble, not really in the mood for one of her rants, but not having the energy to banish her.