a. cross (a_cross) wrote in tempus_fugit, @ 2009-01-19 23:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: amarissa cross, character: james potter |
Characters: Amarissa Cross and James Potter
Location: Number 13 Grimmauld Place
When : After Spain
Rating: PG
Amarissa was fairly certain that she had never been more exhausted in her entire life than she had been over the last few weeks. It had been so difficult functioning with that... thing inside of her. She could feel it no matter how she moved, and sometimes when she moved too sharply, she would wake up the next morning with blood all over her sheets, the cutting have reopened once again. It seemed like a constant battle that couldn't quite win. It kept her from really doing anything, which was entirely frustrating to Amarissa, who was quite accustomed to being extremely active. To be confined to paperwork and remaining inside the house was just too boring. She was fairly certain that she was going to go crazy before they figured out how to remove the metal from her insides. She had taken to standing in front of the mirror and staring at the mark that lanced up her side; sometimes it was a faint line of pink that was more healed, and other times it was more irritated, fresh with blood. She would try to make her mind trace backwards, to make the memories that had lost come back. It didn't ever work. It was like there was a jagged hole in her mind; she couldn't resist prodding it, trying to make sense of it, but neither did it bring her any relief.
But eventually, someone had contacted her, telling her they had found something that had a good chance of being able to remove the shattered sword that was currently occupying her body. It was risky. Of course it was risky, there was a chance that what they had might not work and what was left inside of Amarissa might hurt her further, might break a little more and drive further through her flesh and veins. It was a chance she was willing to take. There wasn't much to be had from remaining so still. She hurt anyway. So, she had gone, slipping back to Spain. Amarissa had stopped only briefly to see her mother and Brandon, smiling faintly as her nephew showed her what he had been working on; he had gotten a toy broom for Christmas and was enjoying crashing it around the yard. She had been aware of her mother watching her the entire time, analyzing her every motion. But she hadn't said anything, which was what surprised Amarissa more than anything. Her mother, who was so quick to judge and lecture, had been entirely silent on the fact that Amarissa had been acting suspiciously all afternoon, and they had never fully discussed what had happened when she had gone missing. And Amarissa knew that her mother was aware of her disappearance. Hector had been over the house and explained the situation to her, and had warned that it might be best to prepare for the worst. But there had never been any complaints about her recklessness or her stupidity. They hadn't spoken about it at all. That silence seemed to be the ruling force of the day, even when Amarissa was a bit slow in moving and flinched away from Brandon's more forceful hugs.
Then, she had returned back to the lab. Everything had been briefly explained to her, and Amarissa had nodded through it at all, before letting slip her into a state of unconsciousness while they worked at removing the item that was laced with dark magic residing just underneath her skin. When she had woken up, she had felt groggy and her side had ached, but she was calmly told that they had successfully removed the remains of the metal from her inside. They had been presented in front of her, and just looking at them made Amarissa's insides curl a bit with disgust. Then, Hector had patiently told her that she wasn't entirely healed yet - that was still going to take a bit longer; dark magic was nothing to be trifled with, and that they recommended that she stay. But Amarissa had vehemently argued this point, until, a few hours later, she was being bandaged up and sent back through the Floo.
She had arrived back in London, still feeling a bit off and uneven, and hadn't even bothered to try and make it upstairs, but had just fallen asleep, curled up on her good side on the couch in the living room.