Frank Longbottom wants to run an ice cream cart. (![]() ![]() @ 2010-04-25 16:43:00 |
![]() |
|||
![]() |
|
![]() |
|
![]() |
Frank couldn't the remember the last time he'd drank that much. He also couldn't remember the last time he'd had a proper hangover. Headache in the morning, sure, but the moment he'd opened his eyes he could tell it was going to be a shit day. He'd woken up and forced himself back to sleep a handful of times between eight and noon and finally he and Al had dragged themselves out of bed and staggered down to breakfast, just like the old days. He'd contemplated paying for another night and going back upstairs just to sleep for a few more hours before he left to go home. If he was sleeping he didn't have to deal with all the things that had come to pass. Hogsmeade, hospital stays, attacks, and murder. So much death. It was war, he got that, but the lost lives didn't belong to the ones who chose to fight. Innocent people were dead. Innocent children. Both Bellatrix and Rodolphus were in holding cells and no one could find the time to celebrate because even something so good was being overshadowed by the darkness. Finally Frank had eaten enough, had tea, and he and Al had parted ways. His goal was a shower and a pair of clothes that he hadn't been in for over twenty four hours. He apparated to the edge of the wards and then crossed the grounds slowly, poking about the edge of the pond for a bit before he finally reached the front door. He wasn't all that surprised to find his wife in the middle of a sea of parchment and he stopped at the edge of her piles and glanced over them idly. She'd been busy. She looked as tired as he felt. Frank ruffled the hair at the back of his neck and pressed at the muscle. "Hey," he greeted finally. He sounded exhausted and perhaps like he'd helped smoke through more than a pack of cigarettes, because that's exactly what had happened. The past few days hadn't been fair, or right, well, and if she was being honest, the past months hadn't been either. Like the younger members of the Order Alice was beginning to lose hope, but instead of yelling and blaming, it only further encouraged her to work harder, to come up with a solution. Frank always wanted to fix things, but she wanted to solve things, and though that sounded like it was the same thing, it had its intricacies. So while Frank had been busy getting pissed to an extent that Alice really couldn't fathom, she'd camped out in the finally empty living room and started making notes, charts, bulleted lists, and even diagrams, anything that could point her to the way of what she was supposed to do and how she was supposed to get the Order back on their feet again. It was easier to concentrate on something she was so passionate about than focus on the things that were getting her down and causing her doubts. The deaths and injuries only fueled her passion to come up with something anything that was a remotely good idea, and as she allowed herself to get so absorbed in this she didn't have to think about Frank. Frank who had slept out 2 of the past 3 nights he was home. Frank who was choosing to deal with his problems with alcohol rather than just talk to her. Frank who was avoiding her as much as she was avoiding him, making her want to scream and throw a tantrum. Frank who was running off to his safety net of Dorcas and Al for comfort instead of his wife. No, it was easier to focus on work and the Order than let herself get upset about all this, but that didn't mean she was over any of it, she was just trying not to think about it. So she'd stayed up all night working because if she stopped, she'd start thinking about the things that upset her. Her body had forced her to sleep maybe an hour or two here or there, but tea had fought that response as well and by the time Frank came home, there were at least 50 sheets of parchment around her. She'd heard the door click but she didn't look up. She stared instead at the piles of options she'd created: Kidnap, Murder, Burn Down Houses, Protest, Posters, Wireless Reports, Bribery, Blackmail, and Fuck All and Move to Peru. The latter looked more tempting every time she looked at it. But Frank greeted her just as she was about to pick up the Peru pile and study it, so Alice finally looked up. "Hey." She replied quietly, looking him over and assessing the damage. "Rough night, huh?" Frank shrugged. "Rough morning. Last night was good. Good in the scheme of things, but that's probably bad of me to think or say or whatever. It was just nice to regress and not think about all the shit." He gave another glance to all the papers, picking up keywords on charts and spotting underlined thoughts. She'd been hard at work, trying to set the Order back to rights, and while he could usually find some ray of light to focus on to do the very same, he found himself struggling. "You've been busy." "Yeah," Alice sighed and looked at the piles, not even sure where to begin. "I don't think it's anything good though." Maybe it was because she was exhausted, or because, despite everything, she knew she didn't have to put on a front of confidence for Frank, but she finally confessed. "I really don't know what we can do next. I'm trying, and I'm writing down literally everything that comes to mind but it's either too extreme, or too ridiculous, or it won't do anything, nothing seems right, or even right enough for the Order to agree." Again, she sighed and leaned back against the couch, looking up at her husband in a bit of despair. "I don't know how we're going to bounce back from this." Frank sighed, standing over his wife and all the work she'd done, and he wasn't sure what to say. Even when he didn't know what to say he made something up. That's usually when his moments of reassurance or optimism came into play, when he had nothing structurally sound to bring to the table. When all he had was false hope and a convincing tone. He wasn't even sure if he could do that now. He knew he couldn't fix everything but sometimes he liked to be foolish enough to think that he had that power. He rubbed at his neck again and shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he searched for the right thing to say. "Right now I don't think we need to do anything, not right off. I think we all need to just...take some time. Step back and deal with all of this shit before we even begin to try to make heads or tails of what direction we need to take." Alice had always been able to count on Frank to say the thing that gave her hope again. It was where his strengths lay, and even when he didn't know what to say, he came up with something to keep her going. What he ended up saying now though, didn't sit well with her at all. She knew he was right, and to an extent, she agreed, but the conversation with the Order kids after Nymphadora's murder told her that wouldn't be an acceptable answer. "I have a sit back and wait pile." She offered weakly and pointed to the smallest pile of parchment in the top left hand corner of Alice's mess. "But I don't think anyone is going to settle for that. They're restless and they want blood, and I know that's all the more reason to keep them from doing anything, but they're not going to listen, Frank. They blame this on us, or me at least, and I just--" She held her face in her hands for a moment and then slowly pulled them down as she exhaled loudly, "I need a plan and an answer. I need a short term goal to fight for, and they do too." No, of course they weren't going to listen. Half the Order was made up of Gryffindors and Frank knew from experience that idleness and patience was not something they could expect from them. It didn't mean their leaders were any more certain of what they should do. On any normal occasion Frank would turn to Caradoc to give them answers, but no one could ask him to do that now. "I don't have any of those things. I'm used to running in blind, acting on nothing but raw emotion when those people that I care about are hurt, and I can't even do that. I don't feel anything. All I want to do is avoid this entire thing, but I can't because the Order needs leaders. They need leaders but what good are they if they don't know what to give them? I don't know what to say to these kids. I want to tell them that we'll get through, that everything will be fine, but fucking hell, Dorcas lost parents. Greta was attacked. Ted and Andromeda have to bury their child." Frank paused, swallowing slowly and he looked down at his shoes. "And Maureen. It's just...how the hell do you combat that? Nothing we can do will ever be that crippling. Even if we manage to kill one or two of them, what is that in comparison?" It was discomforting and comforting at the same time to know that Frank didn't know what to do either. Comforting in the sense that she wasn't alone, and unsettling in that they had nothing to work off of. They were teetering on giving up, and that was wrong, and so unlike them. As tempting as the Fuck All and Move to Peru pile was, Alice knew it was the most unattainable option of all that sat before her. In all the things that differed between Alice and her husband, their stubbornness to never give up and passion for causes they joined was something they shared. In their shared fear of the unknown future, Alice dropped all that had piled up and was bothering her, and she just moved over on the carpet and pushed some parchment around to make room for Frank. "Come sit." She finally said. She was completely exhausted, but something about acknowledging her fear and finding solace in the fact she wasn't alone got her mind to spin again. "I think we need to stop comparing. You were right when you said we need to deal with things and we do, but I think while that's going on, we need a small victory, we need something for everyone to grab onto as a reminder for what they're fighting. And I don't mean a project, like the profiles or the following, those don't work, we need an actual victory, however small. Bellatrix and Rodolphus are locked up, we need to use this to our advantage before they inevitably get released," she paused before adding, "worse case scenario." Even if she believed it was likely, they still had hold onto the hope Bellatrix and Rodolphus would soon become dementor pets. "They are weaker now, we are too, but in a different way. They've lost more than we have. We've lost family and that's not right, in fact that's worse, but they've lost soldiers, their numbers are dwindling. We need to take them now and exploit their weaknesses." She tilted her body to fall on her hands and knees and reached for the Kidnapping pile. "When Bellatrix took Julia, we found out Narcissa was her weakness, and if Bellatrix has a weakness, so do every other one of them, we need to find some of them and take advantage. If it's material, we burn it down." She pointed to the Burning pile. "If it's tangible, we take it. We've got to show them that we're not going to stand for what they've done and we can fight dirty too." Putting the Kidnapping pile down, Alice crawled over to her collected Death Eater profiles and crawled back to Frank. "Rosier for instance," she handed him Saul's profile. "buy buy buy. If we could somehow freeze his accounts, if we could talk to someone in Gringott's, if we could rob his vault, we'd take what mattered to him, we'd hinder his day to day life." Frank did sit, pulling one knee to his chest as he raked his hand through his hair. It made sense. All of it. What they could do, how they could do it. It didn't fill him with the hope and sense of direction that he was looking for, but it was something. They could build from it. He glanced over the piles one more time and then closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. The small pain was building behind his eyes and he tried to just shut it out, pinching the bridge of his nose before he finally looked back at his wife with a sigh. "It's definitely a start." And just like that, whatever optimism or motivation for planning that she'd had went out the door with Frank's heavy sigh. She was stupid to be having this conversation with such little sleep and Frank reeking of cigarettes and alcohol and bacon, all it was going to was press her buttons. He couldn't be supportive when he was hurting and she didn't have the energy to fight and bounce ideas when she was hardly getting any encouragement in return. "Maybe we should talk about things when you're not hungover." She snipped, taking back her profiles and placing them where she'd made a space for them. Her plan wasn't perfect, she knew that, but she was exhausted, and everything that hadn't been said was boiling up again inside of her. She needed out of the house before she snapped completely, and so Alice put the remaining parchment in its designated spot, stood up, and walked to the door on the other side of the living room. With a sigh, she opened it and stepped out onto the porch, her arms crossed as she looked over the edge of the cliff. She didn't have the patience to fight right now. Frank's forehead wrinkled at Alice's comment and he watched her step out of the living room. His lack of enthusiasm hadn't been meant to frustrate her. He stood up slowly, using the wall as a guide, and he glanced towards the bathroom. He knew that he could just leave Alice alone and she would eventually come back in and they could spend the rest of the day doing whatever. He should just go shower and leave it at that. Instead, he chose to follow Alice onto the porch, closing the door behind him. "Not having a hangover isn't going to change how I'm feeling? Besides, it's just a small headache. I'm fine." Alice was somewhat surprised Frank had followed her out here. Normally, he'd have gone into the bathroom, showered, and maybe even gone back to bed, she'd stay out here until she was calm, come back in the house, clean up her mess and they'd put it all away; bury it for another day. It wasn't the best way to deal with things, but it worked for them. Except today he'd followed her outside. She stayed quiet for a while, even after he'd spoken. She just watched the water for a bit, wishing she was someone who could drop everything and just walk away, someone who could give up and go on permanent holiday. "I'm trying." She finally said somewhat flatly, but she didn't look at Frank. "I'm trying to come up with answers, I'm trying for something, I'm trying to take control, I'm trying to fix things, and I'm trying not to fuck everything up, but you're stopping me. You run away to everyone but me, you unknowingly barely support the one idea I have, we've barely talked these last few weeks. I don't know what to do when everything I try fails." Frank didn't know what to say to all of that. He blinked idly for a moment, trying to think of what to say and he finally he stepped up so he was next to her. "I didn't mean...I wasn't trying to not support you, Alice. I just don't feel very inspired after the last few days. I didn't say the idea was bad, it's not. It's actually very good, I'm just tired. Yes, we're all tired, but I wasn't trying to shoot you down." Frank frowned slightly. "And I haven't been running anywhere. I left the other night because Dorcas needed me, and she had every right to. It was poorly timed because I'd just been let out of the hospital but her parents are dead and she was alone in the hospital after she'd been threatened. It wasn't like I was out making early morning social calls. It's really not that big of a deal." "I don't think you get it." She stated simply, her voice never raising even a decibel. Finally, she turned to address him and not the water, but there wasn't anger in her face, maybe there was sadness, but if there was, it was hardly there. There was just neutrality and exhaustion painted into her features while she explained. "It isn't just about this week. This idea. This time you went away. This has been going on for a while, but there's always an excuse. You're tired, she needs you, he needs you, this isn't the time, you're going out, there's always something. Everyone demands something from you every hour of the day, and you go to help them, and I love that about you, but you forget that I'm here, or at least take it for granted, and you forget that we're going through the exact same things as everyone else, and it doesn't occur that I might need you as much as Dorcas, or Al, or Edgar, or anyone." She paused momentarily while she tried to read him, but she got nothing at all. "And maybe I need you more." Frank stared at her, a little surprised by the words coming out of her mouth. "I had no idea this was how you felt, which is my fault for being ignorant to your feelings, but you're at fault too. You don't talk to me. You have never once come to me to tell me this is how you're feeling, so how am I supposed to know that you're feeling abandoned? I love you, Alice. You're my wife, and I need you too, but we never talk about things. We lock them away and forget they exist. I don't come to you with my feelings because you made it clear to mean that they make you uncomfortable. I open up and you shut down. What am I supposed to take away from that?" He was thinking about how bad he wanted a cigarette because he needed something to do with his hands, so instead he just shoved them into his pockets. "I try and I meet a wall. So it seems we're at a impasse." Her words had been chosen poorly, she knew it, but she also knew they weren't yelling, which meant she had a chance to fix her mistake. "I didn't mean to imply this was all you, I'm sorry. And," she paused for a second because even though she knew it was true, it was still hard to admit aloud, "you're right. I've never given you any reason to come to me. I'm not good at that stuff, I know, but I can't get better if you don't keep trying. And I know I don't give you a reason to try because I don't come to you either, but you have to understand that coming to you is difficult for me." Looking at him was making this more difficult, so Alice turned and took the few steps to the porch steps and sat on the top one, hugging her knees. "Put aside the fact that usually you have too many people coming to you, so one more seems a burden; you're so good, Frank. I wish I could be the person you are, patient, understanding, accepting, open, your moral compass always pointed due north, never flickering, but I'm not and every time I mess up, every time I could talk to you, I'm swept over with guilt for not being the person you should be with. The person you're supposed to be with isn't supposed to be so closed off, isn't supposed to pull away from human contact, isn't supposed to make morally questionable choices and throw unforgiveables in a battle, so I just stay quiet, because if I can't do those things, if I can't be that girl, then at least I can be strong." She rested her head against her knees and inhaled deeply, harshly swallowing back tears that danced on the edge of falling out. "But I guess you can only be strong for so long before that plan gets fucked up too." Frank stared at the back of her head and again he was speechless. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms over his chest as he stood completely still. He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to say to that. Almost a week and he'd been at a loss for words. He didn't like it at all. It was very unlike him. He could talk up a storm when if had nothing to do with all the things he was currently stressed about, but he had no constructive thoughts to share. And now Alice was telling him how good he was and he wanted to shake her. Not her necessarily, just the notion that he could do no wrong. He wasn't some monster but he was not perfect. "I'm not a bloody saint, Alice, and you're not this terrible person you're painting yourself to be. And don't tell me what I deserve in my wife or who I'm supposed to be with, because that's bullshit. I married you because I love you, which means I love everything about you. Sure, there are things you do that I don't agree with, but what couple is perfect? Name one that is and I'll call you a liar. No, I don't like that you tried to kill Bellatrix. I understand why you did it, but I can't agree with it. It doesn't mean I love you any less. You don't agree with half the shit I do, the recklessness and all that comes with it, but you still love me." And now it was Alice's turn to be speechless. With her head against her knees, she listened to Frank and tried to think of something, anything to say, but she couldn't. There wasn't a debate or argument left, it was just the way things were. Frank was right, but that didn't change the way she felt, or the way she had felt every day since the battle, so consumed with guilt. Maybe he wasn't a saint, fne, but just knowing that he couldn't agree with what she'd done, had made her hide away in silence for five days. That meant something, even if it was wrong. "Okay." She finally said after painstakingly slow minutes of trying to think of something better to say, and the moment it left her tongue, she regretted it. She was shutting him out again, she knew she was even if she didn't want to. So much for sharing. Frank tensed at the word and he pulled his arms tighter to his chest. So many times he'd opened up or said that he loved her and that had been what he'd received as a response. Okay. He'd always just let it slide, bristled a bit maybe, but he'd never confronted her. "No, it's not okay. I get defaults, I have them, but okay is not one of them. We're talking about opening up and how all these problems we have stem from lack of communication and then you shut down literally a minute later. I know it's difficult for you and I understand that, but if you don't want to talk about something, just say so. There are things I don't tell you because it's my own shit, I don't expect you to tell me everything, but you can't just shut down. Every time I hear that work and want to reach out and shake you. Or anyone else who says it. I can't handle it. I just can't." She had known it was coming. She'd set herself up for every bit of tension that Frank exuded. She'd known it was the wrong thing to say, but it was the only thing she could think of, and now she was paying for it. "I don't know what else to say, Frank." She snapped and glared back at him finally, because as much as she knew what she was in for the second the word had come out, that didn't mean she liked it. "I'm sorry that's the way I feel, and whether it's wrong or not, it just is and I can't change that at the snap of your fucking fingers. And yes, that's something with me, something I have to work out on my own, something you probably can't fix, and I have to deal with it, but what else do you want me to say? "I said okay because I don't have anything else to say. It means, I've listened, I've absorbed, I've processed, but there's nothing else for me to say. I don't always have a comeback or another argument, sometimes you get the last word, and okay is just my way of letting you know. What do you want to hear instead? You're right, Frank? You're so smart, Frank?" She was getting nasty, and she knew it, and it was uncalled for, but it was the easy defence and so she stopped. "I'm sorry." Her voice quieted down. "I'm just out of things to say." He stared down at her as she retorted and he sucked his cheek as he listened. "No, I'm not expecting you to praise me. I'm not expecting that at all. It's not even when we're fighting, Alice. 'Okay' is not the correct response to 'I love you', but you seem to think otherwise. So this has nothing to do with some need for me to win or get the last work or whatever. It has to do with me absolutely wanting to snap every time someone says it to me. It's like I'm being brushed off and I'm not good with that. I don't like it." She looked up at him and that familiar sense of guilt that they had just discussed swept over her. "Sometimes it's easier to brush it off than yell Frank. I don't like fighting with you, but when something happens and you get yelled at in every direction you look, you can bet I have something to say, but it probably isn't anything that hasn't been said already, and you don't need to get kicked down even further. Because yeah, at the end of the day, you could do pretty much anything and I would still love you, but that doesn't mean that in that moment, I'm just as happy to celebrate what we have. 'Love' is a big word, Frank, even now. You can't just toss it in whenever you screw up for some reassurance or whatever." Frank's eyes narrowed as she spoke and for a moment he questioned his hearing. He understood that she wasn't as emotional as he was. He didn't always understand her reactions to things when they were so different from his own, but not everyone reacted the same. But they'd been married for nearly four ears. It would be four years before long, and he did love her, which he would never deny. It was a big word, sure, but not something he was afraid of. Four years of marriage and then multiple years of dating before that meant that he didn't have to wonder when he could and couldn't say those words to his wife, or at least he didn't think so. "What? I don't just toss it around, Alice. When I say it, I mean it. I'm not trying to minimise whatever I've screwed up at that point in time. It may be difficult for you to say, but it's the easiest three words I've ever learned. We're married, Alice. You know how I feel, so I'm not going to lie and say I'm not offended." They shouldn't be having this conversation now. He was hungover, she had hardly slept, neither was in the mindspace to be having such a serious conversation. And because of that, every emotion she would have felt with some rest and actual logical thought process was magnified. Normal guilt that arose in any touchy subject felt doubled if not tripled, and Alice knew she was just digging herself further into a hole. She never should have said anything, she should have let it go like she always did. If she had, they could be eating Chinese food and laughing about some stupid thing that had happened at the bar last night. But she had to chose the worst possible moment to finally begin to alk. And all it had gotten her was more guilt. "I'm sorry." She said because that was all there was for her to say. She couldn't fight Frank, not on this; he was right. Her own issues with her husband stemmed from her, and that was not an easy potion to swallow. This was definitely not the conversation he'd been expecting when he'd come home. He was looking at her and she looked sorry. He didn't doubt her words and she knew that she probably hadn't meant to say them, but it was how she felt even if she'd let the words slip. Despite how terrible he felt, how unhappy he was, it was good to hear her say it. It was out in the open and they hadn't let one more issue become some suppressed topic they never touched. Frank dragged his fingers through his hair and down his neck again and he sighed. "I'm going to go grab a shower. We can talk more when I get out or something. I'm not really hungry just yet, but figure out what you want for dinner and we can send in an order." They were done. The conversation was over, and the world hadn't come to an end. There was minimal comfort in that notion considering every time she had played out this scene in her head, it had ended in a violent fight and one of them leaving, which had been one of the many reasons she had been so hesitant to bring any of this up. But even that piece of knowledge didn't stop her from feeling utterly awful and oddly alone. "Before you go can you just--" Exhaustion escaped with a sigh as she looked down to the space next to her on the porch step. "can you just come sit, for a minute? Not to talk, just...sit...next to me." Frank hadn't held her since before Hogsmeade, and while she knew she didn't deserve that amount of affection after everything she'd said, she needed some piece of assurance that they were going to get past this, something to say the shower was not just him running away, no matter how awful he smelled. Frank glanced at the step and he was torn. He wanted to sit with his wife, wanted to tell her that things were fine. He wanted them to be fine, and he didn't really feel angry, just tired. It had been a long week and for all the time that he'd spent away from home, out trying to fix the world, he hadn't had time to reflect. He'd done his thinking and he'd been alone in a sense, but he needed just another hour. One hour to be selfish and he could come back and be what Alice needed, or he could at least try. "I really just need to take a bit to think. About everything. I'll sit with you as long as you need me once I'm out." He wasn't going to come. That realisation nearly knocked the air out of her chest. What could happen after his shower was irrelevant, it was the now that mattered, and she knew it. He was pulling away just as she'd done ever since emotions got involved in their relationship. It was her turn to know what it felt like to be pulled away from. The guilt and the hurt pulled at her more and more, but she wasn't going to fight him. She knew she had to let him go; it would be wrong to do anything else. "Yeah." She nodded her head, but didn't look at him. "Yeah, of course." She didn't move until she heard the porch door close behind her. After that, she counted a slow sixty seconds, giving Frank ample time to get to the bathroom before finally rising. She didn't want him to sit after the shower, the moment of need had passed, so there was no reason to stay. Instead, Alice just walked across their yard, her arms hugging each other, almost bracing her body for what was about to come. But not here, not outside where Frank could come out and see, no. She headed instead for the shed, oddly considering her husband's space a safe shelter away from him. And it wasn't until the door was secured and locked behind her that Alice dropped her arms and slid to the floor, allowing herself to cry for the first time in months, all for the marriage she'd forced to the brim of dissolution. |