BEFORE YOU HAD TO GO AWAY
sirgidecnxprewett said:💀 for what my muse would say upon hearing about your muse’s death.
You told me we would be forever
But maybe we were just too young
I wonder if you still remember
When we were dancing in the sun.
It was midAugust and the sweltering summer heat blistered and burned as the days spiraled even further out of proportion. Asylum was just out of reach for anyone and Dorcas, who was slipping further and further beyond the dark veil, had already become wild and unbeknownst in her suffering. Marlene was gone and she wasn’t coming back. Nothing was left of her, except the intangible ideas she left behind—inevitable sailor curses and the lost luxury of always having the lavatory at home stocked with fresh shampoo bottles; it was thoughts of warm chocolate eyes and soft flowing locks that anchored her through the terrain, however rocky it was without her other half by her side, ready to take on the world. The smudged remnants of her final fingerprints still covered their shared flat, which she had since abandoned and left to rot; the ancient ruins of what once was, but never would be again.
Dorcas had already vowed what little remainder of life she had left to bring forth justice for Marlene and her family; a family she considered very much her own. She would see to it that those who bared responsibility would suffer the same barbaric fate as her best friend, while the more (or less) fortunate would live (if you could even consider it that) out their days in fear—never knowing when a dementor’s kiss could be their last. But still, she had those she loved rallied around her—the important ones like Benjy, Moody, and Mary. The Longbottoms and Potters. Emmeline, Remus, and Sirius too; companions who would likely see her through to the end.
And then there was Fabian and Gideon. Often Dorcas wondered what words could be used to describe two extraordinary someones who saved her life over and over again each day without even being vaguely aware; none were acceptable, which came with the harsh realization they were all she had left. Her makeshift family of four disintegrated into three halves a whole, and on that final morning she looked them both in the eye one last time and swore by the moon and all the stars she wouldn’t be able to make it if her heart broke just one more time.
They continued to assure one another in the simplest of ways on that grave morning; tousling a careless strand of hair, a pat on the back, a tight bear hug as tears silently streamed down a face soiled with grief. It was what the pack of once-four had always done—they anchored each other through rocky turbulence and spiraling downhill battles; they posed as one another’s strength in rare moments of weakness or apathy; and in the event that one of them seemed to forget who they were or what they were supposed to be doing, the others were always there to shed some light down their darkened path.
On their last morning together, Dorcas dried her bloodshot eyes and expected to carry on like nothing had happened. It was what was expected of her. She was mostly scar tissue and bone, but she was also equally strength; the scars a constant visage attesting her fortitude. She had always worn what she survived on her skin and she wore it well, yet as the war progressed the stakes became greater for all those involved—making the hit witch who was resolute in her ways imperceptibly vulnerable to an attack being driven right where it hurt the most. A lackluster feeling weighed down the center of her stomach, which carried into her feet as she stepped away from Fabian to leave; just for a moment she wished they could throw it all away and runaway forever the day. Then, as if he could read her doubtful mind, Fabian tentatively placed a hand upon her shoulder and said; “we’re going to get the people who did this and we’re going to be okay along the way too, Doe.”
And for a moment, she believed him. But then the anxiety began again in her toes, coursing through the length of her body every time she had to bring herself to say goodbye to the familiar twinkle in her best friends’ eyes. Alas though, a mysterious force continued guiding Dorcas forward on her journey. She said goodbye to Gideon last, who attempted to cheer her up with a suave repartee. “If the Dorc doesn’t leave now so she can hurry back, I might have to resort to some of her old tricks. You remember when you made all my underpants disappear that one time? ” She flitted her somber eyes at him and, though dazed, managed a smile upon mangled lips. “You’re really slipping on your game if you’re suggesting you’re resorting to pranks from three years,” she informed him, and they chuckled softly in unison together before she wrapped her arms around his torso—hugging him for what would be the last time. Had she known she would have never let go.
“Remember, if you need us then we are right here.” He adjusted the familiar charm hanging below the neckline of his shirt. Gideon now donned the twin necklace Marlene fashioned for them many years ago. The charmed necklaces kept the two physically connected wherever they journeyed despite distances—until the metal arrow singed Dorcas’ chest one last time, then going forever cold. The charms had alerted them if the other was in danger on many occasions before, however never anything as bad as that final scorch. Dorcas knew what it meant, though chose to believe it was impossible—somehow a mistake. Now Gideon and Fabian alternated wearing the charm to preserve Marlene’s memory and bring comfort to Dorcas whenever they were apart; if anything were to happen to any of them, the twin necklace would alert the other via a little vibration or burn depending on the severity.
Though a hitch in her step, they managed to get her carefully out the door. She knew it wasn’t that they wanted to get rid of her, but right now they had an obligation to push her forward in their fight. As a whole they were beaten, tired, hungry, and robbed. Useless on their own; but they picked up the pieces, weaved one part of themselves through the other battered and broken pieces, and continued fighting for Marlene and their own sakes. It was the only option.
Dorcas arrived at the Ministry five minutes past nine that morning and threw herself into a pile of work; nowadays, it seemed there were seldom assignments that did not revolve around the present-day war. It was evident things were already out of hand and there was no clear distinction for when it all might end; there was no light at the end of the tunnel coming from either direction. Her entire squad’s morale was shot down and killed on impact when they began racking up bodies of their own, which made it even more difficult for Dorcas to be the great leader that was expected of her. Many looked to her in times of despair or lost hope; it seemed they could never get passed her faulty exterior. The truth however was she felt like she was spiraling further down the rabbit hole than the rest of them, concocting master plans in her head to take down as many death eaters as possible in the hopes all roads would lead to Voldemort—and finally, it might all be over.
Their fate however was meant to be, surely as it was already written and entwined in the stars she swore so heavily upon. Steadily in accordance with the beacon they seemingly followed throughout all their lives that led them to each other. Such was not their fate however to journey out of this world together, with the exception of Gideon and Fabian’s untimely demises, which would leave Dorcas six feet in the ground beside her soon fallen three best friends before her own heart even stopped beating.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had been tipped off regarding a potential headquarters housing Death Eater operations and Dorcas was chosen to lead the mission to infiltrate the property. The end goal was to bag as many sick son of a bitches as possible, but she would settle with the more satisfying option if dragging them off to Azkaban alive didn’t settle well enough with her. She was mid-tangent, addressing a group of young-blooded hit wizards with brooms already clutched in hand when the vibrating struck near the center of her chest. The enchanted charm quickly captured her attention, redirecting it from her squad as she wrapped her fingers around the hanging arrow. First it began in soft intervals, however didn’t take long to heat up in the palm of her hand. She flung the charm from her fingers in horror, the burning metal rattling against the chain as it fell back to its original position against her chest. The burning sensation seemed to last twice as long as it had when Marlene donned the twin charm, prompting the hit witch to abandon her hit squad without a word and flee the Ministry altogether. She pushed passed colleagues and acquaintances alike, not caring who she knocked over in the process. The searing continued, penetrating through the initial layers of flesh holding her bones together. She didn’t seem to care however, already accepting of the scar that was forming as she apparated away from the Ministry in a flash of translucent smoke.
By the time the smoke had cleared, Dorcas already flung herself into their building and up a creaky flight of stairs leading to the flat her two best friends now thoughtfully shared with her. It seemed with every step she took the charmed necklace stung a bit deeper, but by the time she reached the top it had nearly turned to ice. There was hardly any breath left in her lungs when she saw the condition of the front door; exploded off the hinges, splintered, and kicked in. She didn’t dare linger over its condition any longer, propelling herself inside head first where a piece of her hoped and prayed she wouldn’t find them. But that’s when it hit her like a train in both directions. Sick to her stomach, she forced herself to swallow hard causing intense panic to tighten her throat and eyes to swell with a river’s worth of tears.
Though vacant, Fabian’s eyes stared up at her with that familiar twinkle she had always adored. She fell by his side in her most vulnerable state and wept into the palms of her hands before she was able to bring herself to gently close his lids. Quivering, she inhaled sharply before pulling away from his body as it went cold. Though listless, she knew she could still find Gideon; she groomed herself with the false assurance she hadn’t just lost everything because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have been able to get off the bloodstained floor. With two short strides she moved away from Fabian and turned toward the small stretch of hallway where her breath crumpled in her body all over again. “Gideon!?” She cried out at the sight of his tousled locks of red hair as she ran over and trailed her hands across his back. She found he was unresponsive and cold, but Dorcas refused to believe either of them were gone. Her hands shook, but she managed to gather her best friend’s disfigured body in her arms and tug him into her lap where she knotted her fingers and cried into his mop of ginger hair for what felt like the longest hours of her life.
The truth was Dorcas Meadowes said nothing when she had learned Fabian and Gideon were both gone—returned to the dust as the makings of her heart; she couldn’t utter a single word even if she wanted to, yet she wanted plead and bargain with some god she didn’t believe in to bring them back to her at the same. Maybe her prayers would be answered in another unlikely way. Paralyzed with heartache, she waited in hopes her own pain may subside—she waited in hopes they might get up off the floor and suddenly it would be nothing more than the best prank they ever pulled.
On that day however she cried until day dissolved to night and there were hardly any tears left. She hovered above Gideon’s unmoving body, everything silent except the rise and fall of her chest and she wondered how it could be. All three of them had now abandoned her during the wakes of this godforsaken war. They were supposed to be as invincible as the roaring waves of the mighty sea—as many times as they fell, they surely rose again. The four of them made it this far together and, though they did not escape suffering, overcame every obstacle intended to dilute their fire with minimal damage. Dorcas convinced herself she could have laid down right beside them and died that day, but quietly a familiar voice reminded; “your hourglass is still ticking.”
It wasn’t till long after the clock struck midnight when a pair of gentle hands reached down and pulled her away from Gideon’s body. His face was already ghostly, drained of what could once only be described as sunshine escaping through the clouds and an abundance of freckles, now adorned with blue cherry lips. Dorcas’ eyes were swollen raw from crying out in disscontempt for so long, she hardly recognized Benjy as he pulled her into his broad shoulders. She flailed her own balled up fists into him—hitting anywhere she could in attempt to rid herself of the irreversible rage that inebriated her in place. Towering high above her, Benjy found it easy to outfight Dorcas in her deteriorating state, though not without careful effort on his part. Eventually forcing her back down the flight of creaky stairs, it felt like the ground beneath her step had been rooted out from under her; and she was still in for the hardest fall of all.
“Upstairs that day, Moody was left alone with what was once the shells of two unordinary, extraordinary someones. Brave, hardworking, always destined for the greater good; these are just a few of the ample words I could use to describe Gideon and Fabian. Stoic, but tranquilizing. Gideon the Great and Fabian the Fantastical, that’s who they will always be. Harder than steel, sharper than knives, with the bite of a thousand wolves and the quick tongue of a philosopher. More potent than any magical spell or potion; it was always real with them because of their own genuineness. Gideon had more heart and soul than anyone I have met in my entire life; I’d see him get knocked down two, three, four times in a row and not even a second later that kid would be back up on his feet, ready to grab the bull by the horns. And Fabian was just pouring with wisdom, whether it was silently or broodingly. That’s the thing that upsets me the most about Fabian; I don’t quite think he ever really realized how smart he is—was. He has probably singlehandedly given me some of the best advice of any lifetime. Fabian and Gideon were my best friends from day one, but by two we had already become a family. And since then, that family has only grown in size. From day one, we knew the stakes would be grave. We knew a war was raging on outside our doors, and now its taken not only one, but two of the most touching, valuable, and singlehandedly heroic lives away from us. I will take what my best friend’s taught me about life, love, and hope to the grave; but until then I promise them that I will avenge your murder:
Rest easy, my warriors;
may you go easy into the night.
For you have lived a short life,
but fought a long fight.”
Now those were the days before you had to go away
Now I’m dancing by myself out in the rain
Now it’s getting rather cold, and I just wanted you to know
That if my dreams will let me be, will you come dancing next to me?
andulkaphoto
areudirty
stormborns
