brandi. (zombiephile) wrote in daiquiri, @ 2009-08-03 01:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | 100 prompts, char: miriam strout, game: memories 1975 |
100 Prompts: #98, Wrong (Miriam Strout)
Title: All Just So Wrong
Characters: Miriam (Strout) Williams and Lucas Williams
Setting: Late November, 1981, at their home in Kent, England
Word Count: 455
Summary: After the war was supposed to be over, two more patients were brought to the St. Mungo's spell damage ward
Rating: Low
Author's Note: For the 100 Prompts #98: Wrong; I started this one ages ago but could never quite figure out how it needed to be finished.
Miriam was currently working weird hours at the hospital. Lucas was getting used to not seeing his wife very often, but he did like waking up in the morning to her sleeping beside him, as she got in at five in the morning and went right to sleep. He had altered his own schedule so that he would be home when she woke up, so that they could spend some time together before she went back off to work. But when he woke up that morning, the bed beside him was empty. His heart stopped beating briefly, and he threw the covers off himself, leaping out of bed and out of the room. The owl's cage was in the sitting room; if it wasn't there, he would have to find some other way to contact the hospital. But when he reached the sitting room, he nearly collapsed with relief to see her sitting on the sofa. "Miriam, love." Lucas walked over, sitting beside her and brushing her hair back from her face. She was staring blankly at the cold fireplace. "What's wrong? You must be exhausted, why didn't you come to bed?" "It was all supposed to be over," she said quietly. "The war, everything. He's supposed to be gone. This isn't supposed to happen." "What happened?" Lucas took Miriam's hands in his, squeezing them tightly. "Love, talk to me." Miriam sat there on the sofa, frozen in place as she stared at the fireplace. "I wasn't supposed to have to see any more of my friends brought in." She finally tore her eyes away from the fireplace and slowly turned to look Lucas in the eye. Her brown eyes were dull and empty, haunted. "Love, ..." Lucas released his grip on one of her hands to bring his hand up to cup her cheek. He was trying to think of her schoolfriends that he had met and figure out who might have been brought in now, after the war was supposed to be over. Unfortunately, Miriam had worked hard to keep him out of everything, afraid that he would be targeted, so he couldn't think of who it was. He wasn't the healer here, he was just a journalist. A stupid muggle journalist who couldn't help his beautiful witch wife. He dropped his hand from her cheek and stood up, urging her to rise with him. "Come on, love. Let's get you to bed." Though he doubted she could sleep, the state she was in. He would call in sick to work, he couldn't leave her in this state. And even if she couldn't talk to him and he couldn't figure out how to help her, he could at least be here for her. |