Lorelei Wentworth 🍦 Alice Longbottom (harmonize) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2020-02-24 11:45:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !log, * jeanne, * terri, c: foster wentworth, c: lorelei wentworth |
WHO: Frank & Alice Longbottom (→ Foster & Lorelei Wentworth)
WHEN: December 30, 1979
WHERE: Their Home
SUMMARY: An Unhappy Announcement
WARNINGS: Allusions to spell damage injuries. Brief mention of pregnancy termination.
October 17, 1979 The mission had gone wrong. But, then again, these days it seemed like the missions went wrong more often than they went right. The Death Eaters were growing in power and influence, and even playing for both the Order and the DMLE as she was, Alice felt like the upper hand was almost hopelessly out of reach. Though she used glamoring spells while working for the Order- needing to protect her identity- Frank still recognized her when she clumsily apparated back to the Order safe house, her legs giving out beneath her as soon as the spell had completed. She crumpled to the wooden floor, only barely hearing the way he called out her name, desperation tinging his voice. Frank knelt beside her, and his wand touched her left hand, releasing the glamor that hid her wedding ring away when she was on missions. He always insisted that he be the one to do that part. "Someone call for Andromeda!" December 30, 1979 - Morning Alice had the strangest sense of vertigo all through her shift. Every time she stood up from her desk, she had to sit back down almost as quickly when the world started to spin around her. Words swam together on parchment, cogent letters becoming ink blotches in her vision. Even the simple training exercise she was assigned to run with some of the auror trainees had gone awry when they'd each disarmed her in record time. Leaving them to their gloating, Alice had gone back to her desk and folded her head on her arms. Let Crouch come and yell at her, if he wanted. She needed a nap. "Alice?" She heard Frank's voice, but she just cracked her eyes open slightly and mumbled something that might have once been a hello. "Alice," his tone was more insistent now, and she felt a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. "'m sleeping." "It's three o'clock in the afternoon! And you're at work!" Frank's shift wasn't even due to start until four o'clock, but of course he'd gotten there early. Because he was Frank. "'m tired. An' dizzy." And her eyes were closed again, voice muffled as she turned her head in her arms. "Right. Well, let's get you to Mungo's, then." If she'd been a lesser woman, Alice might have wailed her protest. She hated St Mungo's. Frank knew that. But, just then, she was too drained to think of anything else even as her husband helped her down to the floos and away. December 30, 1979 - Evening He had brought her to St Mungo's, but Frank hadn't been able to stay. The clock had ticked closer to the start of his shift, and- even in her dizzy, exhausted state- Alice knew that he had to be back at the DMLE. Even if he was hopelessly distracted over leaving her, not showing up at all was out of the question. She didn't begrudge his choice. It was another hour at least before she'd been brought back to an exam room. It seemed that 'feeling a bit peaky' didn't rank very high on the scale of St Mungo's intake. Once there, an exceedingly impersonal Healer merely told her to sit still and upright while a barrage of diagnostic spells were cast over her. Different colors swam around, some buzzed through her skin, and one left both her feet on pins and needles for a full thirty seconds. Alice winced and closed her eyes eventually, but opened them again when the Healer noisily cleared his throat. He held out a potion vial for her, which she took- mercifully having swallowed it, which cleared her head almost immediately- before he spoke again. "It's really quite simple, Mrs Longbottom. You're pregnant." When Alice finally stopped laughing, she managed, "You're bloody hilarious. Now tell me what's really wrong with me." "You're pregnant, Mrs Longbottom." "No I'm not." The Healer eyed her curiously, but flipped through a few pages of the charts he held in one hand. "You are married, correct?" "Ye-" "-To a Mr Franklin Aloysius Longbottom of-" "Yes." "And the two of you engage in sexual intercourse?" She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring. "Yes." "Then I hardly see what could be so improbable about this, Mrs Longbottom." "It's impossible," she stressed the word, "because I've been taking a contraceptive potion every week since 1972!" The Healer opened his mouth to speak, but then seemed to think better of it and instead turned his attention back to the chart in his hand. He was quiet for a moment, then finally seemed to have an argument in return. "You are an auror." "Yes." "Have you, by chance, been exposed to any… significant spell damage within the last three months?" Alice hesitated, if only because she knew the answer- but the damage she had incurred wouldn't be on any official DMLE report. The Order knew, and Andromeda Tonks knew because she had healed her. But other than that, it was strictly off the books… "And if I have?" "There have been… instances where spell damage can counteract the efficacy of contraceptive potions in certain-" "I'm an auror! There was never a chance I wouldn't get spell damage! Did you all not consider that before you gave me the bloody potions that were supposed to stop this from happening?!" Alice was yelling now, but… that was her coping mechanism, perhaps. The Healer cleared his throat yet again, and proceeded, in a calm tone, "If you wish to terminate the pregnancy, Mrs Longbottom, I can prescribe a potion for such a-" Her wand was in her hand in seconds, and Alice had cast a spell directly at the Healer's chest. It knocked him back against the counter behind him, his chart and its papers clattering to the floor. Alice jumped down from the exam table, and kept the man pinned there against the counter as she held her wand to his throat. "If you ever suggest such a thing in my presence again, I will make certain you can never speak again." Her low tone dripped with vitriol that was perhaps unwarranted- or at least extreme- but Alice refused to consider a scenario in which she did not keep this child. Frank's child. She turned on her heels and stalked toward the exit, releasing the spell on the Healer with a wave of her wand before slamming the door shut behind her. Alice made only one stop before returning home- just to send off a memo straight to the DMLE, addressed to her husband. They say I'm gonna live. See you at home. I'm waiting up for you. Don't be late. -- Frank prided himself on being someone who managed to maintain incredible focus under pressure in most situations, but he had been distracted most of the day. After finding Alice asleep at her desk and getting her to admit she was fatigued and dizzy, Frank had managed to get her to St. Mungo’s and...felt a right heel about having left her there without knowing the diagnosis or even if she was fine. He hadn’t wanted to leave. It had been the absolute last thing that he wanted to do, but...times were frightening in the wizarding world and their jobs were some of the most important ones to be done out there. If no one was there to cover his shift, Frank couldn’t simply not show up. He’d made her promise to let him know how it went, and that if something was wrong, he’d find a way to come home. He hoped it was just some momentary illness or generally just...stress and tiredness. That would be reasonable, right? Their lives were filled with stress and worry enough as it was, over each other and the very fabric of their society. Frank knew, at least, that she understood because she’d have been in the exact same position had he been the one that was sick. Still, he disliked leaving her in St. Mungo’s alone, of all places. She hated the hospital. After he’d gotten her notice in a memo, Frank had been at least somewhat relieved, though the distraction in his mind had persisted. He’d be there for the late shift, all the way up until midnight. He had tried to get someone to come in to cover him, but anyone who had been willing hadn’t been home to rest long enough between shifts already and those who could have covered him simply weren’t willing. They all had excuses, even if Frank didn’t think they were good enough. He’d sent word to Alice: No one will cover the shift. I’ll be home just after midnight. Let me know if you need anything. Try to rest, if you can. So, he had pushed the trainees probably harder than fully necessary. Some of them had been at the end of their shift and he’d overheard them laughing and teasing about how easy it had been to disarm Alice that morning. So...he’d made them attempt to disarm him instead, and they had paid dearly for their laughter. None of them had been able to manage it, and they’d all walked away with their heads hung and egos bruised. He had warned him that idle gossip was unseemly, and...maybe he’d also chided them for not recognizing that something was wrong with Alice in the first place, in his own frustration. You think as second years you could normally so easily disarm a seasoned Auror like her? On her best day, she could knock you back in a second flat and you know it. Something was wrong, and you took advantage instead of recognizing that your fellow Auror wasn’t all right. In these times, we need to have one another’s backs more than ever, in training and in the field, or none of us will survive this war. Auror Longbottom isn’t fragile. She’s tough as fucking nails, and she’s a damn talented Auror. She could have been experiencing residual effects from spell damage in the field, and you gloated. So you all failed this morning. Learn from that lesson, or I promise you, I will never pass you through this training. You watch out for your partner. You have their back. Or I will cut you from the program faster than you can blink. Rather than dismiss them, he’d made them stay late and train harder. It wasn’t until ten o’clock that he’d let them all leave, and even then they would all have to report in the morning. Frank had been through his fair share of long days in training as well. They’d survive it or they wouldn’t, and as much as he wanted them to succeed...Frank wouldn’t recommend a pass to anyone that he wouldn’t feel safe working beside in the field. That was the honest truth, and sometimes life was harsh. He had bent himself to focusing on paperwork until the end of his shift, but it was exactly midnight when he’d left for the floos. It had taken him just a few minutes to pass through those corridors and make his way home. They’d been married almost five and a half years, but Frank never seemed to get used to her being sick or hurt. It always worried him until his nerves were frayed and his heart was aching. He stepped out of the floo, brushing off his coat, and called, “Alice? I’m home.” -- She'd known for about eight hours, but the truth still hadn't quite sunk in. And maybe it would, after she'd shared it all with Frank, but... but the thought of telling him had her stomach in knots, too. Not that she thought he'd be upset with her, but they'd both long-since agreed that the world as it was now was not safe for children. That was part of why they both worked so hard, after all- to make a future where they could become parents without fear. She had, at least, managed a brief nap. That had been much needed- as evidenced by her earlier falling asleep at her desk, anyway. Alice had clutched Frank's pillow close to her in her sleep, though it was a poor substitute for actually curling up close to her husband, as she'd have wished to do. Expecting Frank to be home just after midnight, Alice had ordered them both a late dinner of takeaway from his favorite restaurant. It had arrived not long before he did, and was still warm and ready there in the kitchen when she heard her husband announce his arrival. "In the kitchen, love." -- Truth be told, Frank didn’t really know what was wrong with Alice and that made him worry more. She’d been tired recently - more so than usual - but he’d written that off as just...being busy and the demands of their lives both as Aurors and members of the order. She’d taken a bad hit back in October, but she’d recovered well from that, it had seemed. Still, that particular instance still filled him with uncertainty. Had Andromeda missed something that was just now flaring back up? They had been working off the books. Yes, Moody knew about it all, he was right there with them, but...there was only so much that they could explain about their activities outside of work. There was some ease to his stress the moment that he heard her voice. He’d left his coat on a hook by the door, and made his way to the kitchen. He managed a small smile, seeing her there with takeaway containers that definitely smelled as though they had come from his favorite nearby pub, “That smells good.” He slid his hand against her back, and leaned down to press a kiss to her lips, gentle but firm, “Feeling any better than earlier? Godric, I’m sorry I had to leave you there…” -- "It's your favorite," Alice confirmed, once Frank had noticed the dinner she'd gotten them both. "Are you hungry at all?" Sometimes he ate while at the Ministry over evening shifts like this, but sometimes he waited to share something with her afterward. She segued in closer to him with that simple touch to her back, and leaned up to return that kiss, gentle and slow. "You don't have to apologize," Alice insisted. No, she didn't like St Mungo's, but going there was more or less a necessary evil of her job. "I... managed alright. I did take a nap when I got home, anyway." -- “A little. I haven’t eaten since...before my shift,” he hadn’t really thought about it, if he was being honest. His stomach hadn’t reminded him. It had been too twisted up in knots worrying about her or frustrated with the trainees to warn him of anything as common as hunger. Frank hadn’t even so much as taken a break because he couldn’t stand to not be doing something. He gave a small nod, happy that she’d managed although he still wished he could have been there, “I’m glad you got a little extra sleep. Did they tell you anything about why you might have been dizzy?” His brows knitted a bit closer together, still concerned, though he didn’t move away from the closeness they’d stepped into there. Alice seemed to be fine now, but she’d leaned on him heavily earlier, lethargic and world-spinning. Just recalling it was enough to set him back on edge. -- When Frank admitted that he hadn't eaten, Alice flipped open one of the takeaway boxes, revealing perfectly seasoned fresh chips. She knew that he was worried about her, and she didn't want to keep him waiting on the... diagnosis, such as it was. (Even if the telling of it likely wouldn't do much to ease any of that worry.) "Mhmm," she nodded. Alice picked up a few of those chips, holding them up and- once Frank opened his mouth- unceremoniously shoving them in. "I'm pregnant, Frank." -- Frank trusted her - of course he did - so when she had tempted him with those fresh chips and held some up for him, he had opened his mouth. He had also nearly choked on them when she dropped that bit of news. His eyes had widened, the warm chips not even chewed more than that first bite, though he had managed to sputter around them a little and chew just enough to choke them down without spewing them all over her or the kitchen. “Excuse me, what?” his voice was a little hoarse from his ordeal with the chips, but his hand had tightened in her shirt, not letting her go. -- She hadn't meant to make him choke, of course, just... to provide a little distraction in the form of good food. That was okay, right? Just something else to think about other than how she might have just ruined their lives? (It wasn't really that dramatic. Hopefully. Maybe. To be determined.) "I'm pregnant." Maybe she just had to practice saying the words aloud. "They said that spell damage can change the... efficacy of contraceptive potions. And since I didn't report any spell damage to St Mungo's, they... couldn't warn me about it." She'd been a bit more vitriolic in her initial response, there, but Alice had been angry. Most of that anger had turned to fear, now, though for many different things. "I know that this wasn't what we wanted, Frank, and it's not what we agreed on. It's not what we planned. But I-" She took a deep breath. "I'm going to keep it, Frank, and if- if you're not okay with that, then I... I'm not going to hold it against you. You can- can have your ring back and- and I'll find a new place to live. You won't owe me anything." -- Frank couldn’t have cared less about food in that moment. In fact, the longer that she spoke the more his nerves seemed to fray, and though he only took just a step or two away, Frank held up a hand after a moment, all of her words tumbling through his mind, his voice almost breaking a little, “Stop. Please just...stop talking.” He didn’t want to be rude, but he couldn’t hear another word about her going anywhere with their child and without him. It was still taking him a moment to process all of this. She’d known, presumably, all day. She’d known long enough to make up her mind without him, and he was trying to play catch up with the news itself on top of this new idea that she might leave him. Only...it seemed, if he wasn’t on board with this pregnancy. His chest felt so tight that he might not ever be able to take another full breath. He ran both of his hands roughly over his face and into his hair, ruffling it hopelessly in the process. The problem here was not that they didn’t want children or even that they weren’t ready for children. They’d long-agreed that the current status of the wizarding world was not one that they particularly wanted to bring a child into. Their world was a mess. It wasn’t safe for them, and it wasn’t fair to plan to bring a child into that world under such conditions...where the child would be at risk...where they might be orphaned. Frank wanted kids and he wanted them with her - his wife of five and a half years - and the only reason they didn’t already have one underfoot was because...the life they led was very dangerous. “Alice, you’re my wife and I love you,” his words were quiet and measured. He thought those were probably the first things that needed to be said, at least, “I didn’t make you life-long promises on a whim. It can’t be broken by just...giving back a ring, and you didn’t get pregnant by yourself. If you are keeping this child, we are keeping this child. I just need you to give me a goddamn minute to wrap my head around this, and to stop saying you’re leaving.” Frank closed his eyes, hands on his hips, letting out a shaky breath. He knew...that he probably needed to be wrapping his arms around her and comforting her...supporting her...telling her that it didn’t matter that this wasn’t their plan, he was with her no matter what. That was what he wanted to do - would have done - had the rest of her words not set his whole system to rebel against itself. He didn’t want to know what his blood pressure was in that moment, but he felt ill. -- Frank had taken a step back, away from her, and Alice did the same, widening that distance. Though maybe not by enough, she didn't know. She kept a hand there at the kitchen counter, but she was quiet, as Frank had asked her to be. He needed a minute, or maybe several. She couldn't really fault him for that. And so she stayed quiet and still for some time more, before finally asking, quietly, "Can I talk now?" She wouldn't defend her words. They'd been spoken in fear, and repeating them would only hurt Frank further. Instead, she offered, "I know that our promises aren't whims, Frank. I know it's not just a ring. I'm sorry if that- that's what I made you think. You can… take all the time you need." -- He had given a small nod when she asked if she could speak, though she didn’t really need to ask. He had just needed her to stop that particular train of thought and the direction that it had the potential to take their relationship. Frank was at least grateful for what she said then, though...he probably did need more time. He’d have even liked to have taken a midnight walk around their neighborhood with the crisp December air to clear his thoughts and maybe shock some life back into his lungs. However, he wasn’t going to just leave her here wondering. She’d been alone with her thoughts all day and that had just gotten them to this moment rather than processing the information together. There were some truths that Frank knew right off, without really having to consider, and that much he could share. He finally met her gaze, his words strong with conviction, “There...is no world in which I would leave you or our child, Alice. None. I know this isn’t what we planned...that we wanted to have kids when it was safe for them and for us, but we’ll do our damndest to stay safe and protect our child. I’m not afraid to have a kid with you, Al. I want a kid with you,” Frank let out a small sigh, “I won’t say that I’m not...a little bit terrified because the risks we take are high, but they’re also necessary. Half the point of all we’ve been doing is trying to make a better world for when we could start our family. I...can’t promise that things will always be fine, but I’m going to love you and this baby for the rest of my damn life so...I’m in this with you, Alice. All the way.” -- Her willingness to give him an out hadn't been because she thought he'd need one, and it definitely hadn't been because she'd wanted him to take it. Alice knew that she was keeping this baby, yes, but as terrifying as that truth was, the idea that she might have to do it all without Frank was infinitely more so. "I don't need you to promise that everything is going to be fine, Frank. I know it won't be- I'm not stupid. And I won't pretend that I'm not absolutely terrified of what's going to happen- to me, to you, to us, to this baby. Every ounce of control over my own destiny that I've fought so hard to win is gone now. They-" She hesitated, swallowing heavily. "They offered me a potion. To terminate. But I couldn't-" Her breath caught for a moment, and she covered her mouth with her hand, but then shook her head. "The instant I knew this baby existed, Frank, I knew I'd do anything to keep them safe- even if the idea of anyone being safe these days is a bloody joke." But if he was in it, then they'd…. make it work. Somehow. "I know it's not happy news, Frank, and that's okay. I know it's going to change… everything." -- If he were totally honest, Frank hadn’t questioned for even a moment that they were going to keep this child. That she’d given him an out had been...a surprise, and unneeded. He knew that they would see this through because...well, Frank was morally opposed to any other option. He wished he could tell her that she still had control...or that they could just take off to some other place where it was safer for all of them. As it was, Frank felt duty-bound to keep their society from succumbing to the reign that was threatening. He could not stand idly by or run for safety and leave his friends to this fight alone when the odds were already so unbalanced. He managed a small, sad smile, but he did step closer then, and pull her back into his arms. This time, it was to a full embrace, holding her against his chest with his chin resting atop her head, “It can be a little bit happy, Alice...it can be both terrifying and happy. We’re going to have a baby, and it’s not when we wanted and the world isn’t...what we would hope, but we’ll love them and we’ll keep them…as safe as we can. It just gives us that much more to fight for, yeah? It changes everything, but it’s...just bittersweet. Maybe we need this...maybe they will be what gives us every reason to keep going when the days are darkest.” -- When Frank pulled her back in, Alice went, and it was all she could do not to completely dissolve into tears when he said it could be a little bit happy. That seemed… too good to be true. But she slipped her arms around him, and rested her cheek against his chest. He'd always been so steady, perhaps seeming even more so when she was so prone to not. He'd said, once, that she wasn't broken… But the line was so very close, sometimes. "I'd still give everything for you, Frank," her words were quiet but sure, "and your child is no different." -- Frank let out a soft, relieved breath when she seemed to sink in closer to his embrace. As long as they could be together - stay together - they would...adjust to this dramatic change in their lives. He knew he was going to love their child...fiercely and without reservation. Their circumstances might not have been the most favorable, but he would do his best to be a great father and he knew that Alice would make an excellent mother. “Our child,” he amended with a small smile, brushing a kiss just there against her forehead, “One day at a time, Alice. That’s how we’ll take it...and we’ll celebrate each and every day.” The days wouldn’t be easy, but no tomorrow was guaranteed. Frank refused to live in so much fear that they couldn’t enjoy their lives. There was something to be said about caution, he supposed. Until the end of this war, Frank would plan to make the most of every moment and every day, and then they could make big, grand plans for themselves and their child. |