layla 'double betrayla' fairbourne (boundless) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-01-29 16:43:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | layla fairbourne |
WHO: Layla & Natalie Fairbourne.
WHAT: Sisters talk. Or rather, yell and be sad.
WHEN: Monday, January 29th. Night.
WHERE: The Fairbourne home, Upper Flagley, Yorkshire.
WARNINGS: Minor altercations!
Layla was still hurting, but she was slightly mobile now, and that’s what mattered. It was still against healer’s orders (she could still see Richenza’s face in mind’s eye) to be out and about let alone doing anything strenuous or upsetting, but she didn’t care. In the face of everything, her body was the least important factor right now. She needed to undo this, make things right. Her sister won out, Natalie would understand, or would in time. Francine (her best friend who’d been with her through Liam’s death) would need space. She hoped Francine would eventually talk to her, but deep down, underneath all that swelling denial, she really doubted it. But she'd have to try. Undoing whatever damage Angelina had done with her family was why she was watching her family home from across the street, and had been for the better part of a few hours. She didn’t trust that the Order — Angelina and Alicia among them — to not set a trap here, but having seen nothing amiss, Layla finally collected herself and strode across the street (looking both ways for ‘automobiles’ of course), and then up the front walk, limping form looking as pathetic as she felt. Where she hit an invisible wall, and was pushed a few steps back. Layla gaped like a fish out of water. They’d warded her out. Her wand was up in an instant and running a diagnostic over the barrier. As she’d learned from Death Eaters. With an upset snarl at their sheer gall she jabbed her wand, obliterating the offending ward and causing a brief shimmer. It wasn’t complex, it wasn’t harmful, but it certainly proved a point. Caution now thrown to the wind, the Death Eater stalked up the front walk incensed that someone dared try to separate her from her family she’d sacrificed so much for. Without a moment’s hesitation unlocked the door with a swish of her wand, and entered. Voice loud, “Natalie? Mum, dad?” Suffice to say Natalie was not having a great time. She’d learned of everything from Angelina, read the whole disaster of an entry on the network, was actually sick, told her parents, and then sobbed at Liam’s grave, bearing all her grief and the tale to her deceased brother because she wasn’t sure where else to go. Now, less than twenty-four hours since this latest nightmare began, she was alone again in their home, her parents having left to grieve another child among themselves foregoing their youngest and remaining (sane) daughter. And maybe, Natalie had begun to wonder when she got around to trying to reconcile how and why, if this is where things had begun to go wrong eleven years ago, when their parents had acted like this and left Layla to her own devices as a guilt-laden, angry preteen. “Natalie? Mum, dad?” She froze, hearing her name, but only for a brief moment before her blood boiled. She turned on her heel, walked out of the kitchen, and straight into the living room where her Death Eater sister was standing, wand in hand. Any feelings of confusion or reasoning or understanding went right out the window. She strode up, hand raised, and swung. Layla’s reflexes were on point, injured though she was, and her little sister’s slap was caught at the wrist by her free hand, and she instantly dropped her wand to the ground to catch the follow-up swing with Natalie’s other arm. “Nat—” she snapped. “How!” Natalie shouted, struggling and jerking her arms to get them free of her Layla’s tight grasp. “Why?” When she couldn’t get her arms free she moved with her legs, first kicking the Death Eater’s wand away, and then trying to stomp on her sister’s trainer-clad feet. “You know why— stop, Nat.” fumed Layla, stepping out of the range of her sister’s stomps only to get a kick in the shin, which was already sore from her crash on Saturday. “STOP!” she thundered, anger consuming her as she swung her sister around by the wrists and pushed her into having a seat on the sofa. Where unknown to her, her sister and Angelina had sat last afternoon discussing this very problem. But Natalie wasn’t cowed even if she abandoned her assault. She crossed her arms across her chest. “You! Thought! I! Would! UNDERSTAND!?” Angelina’s warnings about what Layla was capable of were lost under the pounding, rush of blood in her ears. “Eventually!” Layla snapped, free hands now coming up to rub her temples as she turned away, pacing in front of her sister and the sofa she sat on. “I know this is—” “You’re using Liam—” “LIAM was my responsibility—” “— devastated you, I know it did, but you’re—” “— was there for it all and he died while I—” “— he’d hate you for this.” Their brother’s memory hung there in the air between sisters, no longer shouting over each other. “He’d hate you for not fighting for him,” said Layla after a few moments. “Fighting for his memory isn’t attacking Alicia you idiot. Or Angelina! And whoever else. Katie, did you attack Katie too?” There was a flicker across Layla’s features, but she covered it up as quickly as it had appeared. “That wasn’t — wasn’t what I wanted and you know that.” It came with the territory, but it wasn't something she’d have ever wanted to do otherwise. “Do I?” Natalie countered, the anger disappearing in favour of upset chokes. “Because I don’t know you.” “You do,” Layla snapped, using her anger at everything as a shield against how utterly gutted, how hurt she truly was. “I don’t,” Natalie reaffirmed, looking down at her lap. Layla grit her teeth and balled her hands into fists, but she made no move towards her sister. “I wish people would stop saying that.” “I wish I didn’t lose both my siblings,” countered Natalie, pointedly. “You didn’t lose me. I’m still here,” pointed out Layla, heatedly. “I need you.” Natalie didn’t want to cry, but she was now. Grimacing at the sight, Layla took a step closer and reached out a hand. “You still have me. Even if you’re mad at me.” She certainly wasn’t lying to Angelina when she’d stated Natalie always deserved the best. Nothing, not a single thing she could do even if she were perfect would be enough for her remaining sibling. She couldn’t lose Natalie, not now. Her sister was the one that lived through the same thing she did — if anyone would understand the pain that brought it would be Natalie. Tentatively, Layla’s hand was touched, fingertips to palm, by her sister. Layla inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Things weren’t whole, but they weren’t gone, either. She could fix— Natalie pulled her hand way after her sentimental moment of weakness. “I need you to leave.” She couldn’t do this right now. The demand took Layla like the slap that hadn’t landed earlier, and she took a step back, putting distance between the two again. Suddenly the chasm between them felt insurmountable once more. “You need to listen to me expl—” “Go, please.” Muted, whether in fury or hurt, Layla turned and her side flared in pain once more. She didn’t let it stop her from snatching up her wand, and storming out of the house not even realizing her wound from Alicia’s severing charm had re-opened until she was back at Vic’s feeling far worse than when she’d arrived. |