Frederick G. Weasley (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} likeafinewine) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} magnum_bonum,@ 2008-05-01 04:52:00 |
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WHO: Fred and Angelina Weasley.
WHEN: The morning of December 1st.
WHERE: Their flat.
RATING: PG-13.
STATUS: In progress.
In his dream, he was running. Running, fast as he could, shoes pounding hard against the cobblestone street. His lungs ached, and his throat was raw from sucking in the frigid air, but he kept running. He had to catch them, because they'd taken someone. They had Angelina, didn't they? Or was it one of the kids? Ruby, wasn't it, or Arthur? He wasn't sure, but still he pursued them, because they couldn't take anyone else from him. They'd taken Mum already, and he couldn't save her, but he wasn't going to let it happen again, and --
Fred awoke then, quickly, as if being pulled suddenly upwards. He was conscious, dreadfully so, eyes darting all around the room. His bedroom. He was in his bedroom, with Angelina safe and asleep next to him, and it was morning. It had only been a dream. No, not a dream - a nightmare, but now he was awake, and everything was all right. The bright sunlight filtering in through the windows was calming, and his racing heartbeat began to steady.
He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and closed his eyes again, though he knew that any chance of sleep was long gone. The nightmares had begun just after his mother's death, and it was no surprise. He now feared for the lives of his loved ones during his waking hours, so it seemed only natural that the fears would follow him into his sleep. He had returned the previous night to sleep in his own bed for the first time in days, but even in the comfort of his own home, it seemed that the nightmares still reared their ugly heads.
Slowly, trying hard not to make any noise, Fred rolled over onto his side to face Angelina. He watched her sleeping, comforted by her steady breathing and her peaceful face. Her proximity alone was enough to erase all of his fears and worries, if only for a little while. With her next to him, and his children all asleep and safe just down the hall, everything was all right. He didn't have to think about the fact that his mother was dead, or that Fleur was still in the hospital with no one sure when or if she would wake, or that his father was still deep in depression, or any of it.
He was well aware that the peace wouldn't last, though, but at that moment, with the weak December sunlight warm on his face, he would enjoy it. He gently curled his arm around Angelina's waist and moved slightly closer, aligning his body with hers. He placed his head softly against the crook of her neck, and closed his eyes once more.
WHEN: The morning of December 1st.
WHERE: Their flat.
RATING: PG-13.
STATUS: In progress.
In his dream, he was running. Running, fast as he could, shoes pounding hard against the cobblestone street. His lungs ached, and his throat was raw from sucking in the frigid air, but he kept running. He had to catch them, because they'd taken someone. They had Angelina, didn't they? Or was it one of the kids? Ruby, wasn't it, or Arthur? He wasn't sure, but still he pursued them, because they couldn't take anyone else from him. They'd taken Mum already, and he couldn't save her, but he wasn't going to let it happen again, and --
Fred awoke then, quickly, as if being pulled suddenly upwards. He was conscious, dreadfully so, eyes darting all around the room. His bedroom. He was in his bedroom, with Angelina safe and asleep next to him, and it was morning. It had only been a dream. No, not a dream - a nightmare, but now he was awake, and everything was all right. The bright sunlight filtering in through the windows was calming, and his racing heartbeat began to steady.
He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and closed his eyes again, though he knew that any chance of sleep was long gone. The nightmares had begun just after his mother's death, and it was no surprise. He now feared for the lives of his loved ones during his waking hours, so it seemed only natural that the fears would follow him into his sleep. He had returned the previous night to sleep in his own bed for the first time in days, but even in the comfort of his own home, it seemed that the nightmares still reared their ugly heads.
Slowly, trying hard not to make any noise, Fred rolled over onto his side to face Angelina. He watched her sleeping, comforted by her steady breathing and her peaceful face. Her proximity alone was enough to erase all of his fears and worries, if only for a little while. With her next to him, and his children all asleep and safe just down the hall, everything was all right. He didn't have to think about the fact that his mother was dead, or that Fleur was still in the hospital with no one sure when or if she would wake, or that his father was still deep in depression, or any of it.
He was well aware that the peace wouldn't last, though, but at that moment, with the weak December sunlight warm on his face, he would enjoy it. He gently curled his arm around Angelina's waist and moved slightly closer, aligning his body with hers. He placed his head softly against the crook of her neck, and closed his eyes once more.
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