caradoc a. dearborn, hufflepuff extraordinaire (withheart) wrote in fourteenshades, @ 2013-04-14 19:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | x-caradoc dearborn, x-petunia evans |
Who: Caradoc Dearborn & Petunia Evans
What: Caradoc is the same age again, but not.
When: Sunday night
Where: The Hospital
Rating: TBD
Status: Incomplete
Consciousness was hard. Harder than he would have liked to admit. After a week spent under the thumb of Death Eaters, he supposed it was only to be expected. His entire body ached something fierce. Every last inch of him was spent, ravaged by the pain and abuses it had suffered at their hands. Caradoc was still trying to understand if they truly thought he was in possession of pertinent information or if they were just using him to make a point. He hadn't said anything and their annoyance at his withholding was becoming clearer with each passing day in captivity. The curses and hexes had only gotten worse with their frustration at his ability to talk without telling them a lick of important information. Death Eaters were surprisingly creative, despite their cliche appearance. He wasn't stupid though. As utterly exhausted as he was, as worn and broken down as he had become, he kept his ears open for anything that they might let slip. Which was how he knew that it was all coming to an end. They didn't think he knew anything and if he did, he wasn't going to break. That was what he'd heard them say. It was best to get rid of him which was when those clawing hands had ripped him from where they were holding him and dragged him out.
When they'd tossed him into the usual room they used for their "questioning," he had instead ended up here. At first, Caradoc thought he'd died. Then he'd thought he'd lost his mind. Then he'd remembered where he was and assumed it was a memory long gone. As soon as he came to that conclusion, he immediately tried to summon up his memory of Petunia. If he was going to die, he was at least going to see her one more time. He needed to ... but none would form properly. The aching in his chest grew worse. Especially when he thought about the fact that he had missed her without even knowing it. She had been back home, before he was captured. She had existed and he hadn't even known and now ... now he just wanted to see her. When she finally did arrive, he hadn't really been able to hold his head up. He was bone tired, body folding in on itself from the lack of nutrition and the beating it had taken. Remus had been there as well. And there was hair. Red hair. It was too bright. The voices too loud. He was just tired, but he was happy. Because Petunia was there.
The next time he woke up, he was in the hospital wrapped up in bandages with the sterile scent of disinfectant and potions stinging his nose and eyes. His head was pounding, the bruises on his face dark against the paleness of his skin. He hadn't expected to wake up, but apparently today was a day for the unexpected. Groaning as he came to, Caradoc shielded his eyes which caused a shooting pain to rip through his body and a groan to slip free once more. "Fuck" he muttered, trying to piece together where he was and how he had ended up there once more. Had he been rescued?