RP: Tracey & Patrick
Who: Tracey Davis & Patrick Pucey Where: Werewolf clinic When: March 1st, 2025 Rating/Warnings: Summary: Tracey finds out about Cal and goes to see her son.
Tracey had found out about Callahan's death through the Ministry whilst she was still at work, early in the morning. It hadn't sunk in immediately and then, to her horror, she'd started shaking around ten minutes later and had been sent off duty by the Healer-in-charge, forced to get some rest. Rest? How could she rest when her fiance had just been killed doing his bloody dangerous job? They had only been looking at wedding venues a couple of days before, both of them disagreeing because Cal didn't want somewhere so poncey. And now... He was gone? Just like that?
Tracey had returned home but seeing Cal's possessions in her flat, pictures of them... It had made her sob, tremors wracking her body as she cried, and she knew she needed to get out of there. She would have to get somebody to clean the house out of his possessions because she couldn't go back. She just couldn't.
At a loss as to where to go, she decided to go to the clinic. She knew Patrick would be busy but she couldn't think of anybody else to turn to. Had she really worked so hard over the past few years that she had near to no close friends? How had this happened? Why hadn't she stopped?
Apparating to the clinic - and feeling an enormous rush of relief when she didn't splinch herself - she went looking for Patrick. She knew she looked a state in her Healer robes with her face reddened and her hair in disarray but she didn't give a flying fuck what people thought of her. Cal was gone. Oh god.