Who: Bill (& the talking ginger-haired voicemakers. This could be a band) What: Bill wakes up. All horrible things ensue in the wake of likely joy at his waking up. When: Wed. Afternoonish Where: St. Mungo's Warnings: Emo emo emo. Really. Status: Complete log
The last thing Bill remembered - oh, fucking god - was Fleur jumping in front of him. Then something - the blast from the curse that moved around Fleur - had knocked him off his feet. There was a moment of intense pain, and then he was out. For a long time all he heard was white noise. None of it made sense, none of it mattered. It had been a week since the battle, but Bill hadn’t woken up since. Not once. Suddenly, he felt pain. Pain shooting everywhere. Oh, god. Pain. It felt like someone had set his entire body on fire. He still couldn’t open his eyes, but he could feel everything. It was then that he noticed voices. Where was he? He tried to ask, tried to figure it out, but he couldn’t. Where was Fleur? Where was his baby? He had to know now.
Fuck.
Bill’s main focus was on Fleur, was on waking up so he could check that she was okay, too. Merlin, that had to have been a powerful spell, and she’d taken the full force of it. At least that’s what he figured happened. Though, she probably put up a shield charm. It was going to be fine. It was all going to be fine. If only he could open his eyes. He needed to push through the pain, through everything. Was that Snape’s voice? Was he sharing a room with Snape? Severus, he corrected himself mentally.
He was trying to do something. What was it? There was a long pause while he tried to figure it out. Wake up, Bill. You were trying to wake up. His focus returned for a brief moment as he tried to push past the pain again. Fuck, it hurt. He could feel wet on his cheeks and he didn’t understand why. It was another moment before he realized he was crying. Someone’s voice - someone’s very loud voice - said something about it. Remarked on the tears and the fact that his muscles were twitching. Fuck, but he was trying to open his eyes. His nose scrunched up at that. His head felt heavy. He wanted to lift it up and look at people, but he couldn’t.
It was another long moment before his eyes cracked open. Fuck, the light hurt. He went to move his arms to block the light, but they wouldn’t move. Nothing moved. Everything felt heavy and hurt. There was a face close by. The face was blurry, but he knew it was a face. It was one of his brothers. Had to be. There was red hair. Could be his mother, though...or father. Ginny perhaps. Not Fleur. She was probably there, though. She had to be there.
Sodding hell. Everything fucking hurt.
Bill opened his mouth to say something and found that he couldn’t really make his vocal cords do much. Then the dizzying feeling of being moved upwards too fast took over him and he felt sick to his stomach. “Puke.” It was the first, broken word he said. A moment later, he was heaving into a trashcan, someone’s hand rubbing his back. He was vaguely aware that that was supposed to be comforting, but it just sent shockwaves of pain all over his body and he whimpered. “Stop.” His second word.
That was when he remembered. “Fleur. Where’s Fleur?”
The next thing he knew, there were more words, mostly just noise. The only one that stuck out to him was 'dead'. Dead was used in the same sentence as Fleur. No no nonoNO! She couldn't. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be there and save her! She wasn't supposed to save him.
Oh, fuck!
His entire body felt broken, and people were touching him, and Fleur was dead. "GET THE FUCK OUT! ALL OF YOU! NOW!" He didn't want them here, didn't want this to be true. He was going to go back to sleep. He was going to go back to sleep and when he woke up, he would be fine. Everything would be fine. Fleur would be alive. This was a dream. It hurt too much to be a dream, but it had to be. Oh, fuck. It had to be. This couldn't be real.
He couldn't sleep, and he couldn't stop crying, and there was another voice and a potion mostly shoved down his throat at this point. He coughed and spluttered before everything went down and he just let it. He didn't care anymore. Fleur was dead. Fleur was dead and he wanted to die, too. Fuck, he wanted to die.
After a moment, he felt hazy. It was almost like the world was going out of focus and he couldn't feel anything, couldn't even muster up the effort to care. He still wanted to die, but he could do that later. For now, however, he'd sleep. For now he would sleep, because that's all his body wanted. He'd wake up later and everything would be a dream.