#macprewett

The owl came in the middle of the night. Mary was too used to them to even really acknowledge it, except for shoving a foot at Gideon and telling him "it's your turn." Middle of the night owls were of increasing frequency these days what with the war accelerating in intensity. She rolled back over and stole Gideon's pillow. "Mary." She grunted. "It's from Fabian, I've got to go." Gideon was pulling on a pair of jeans and shoving his feet into his beat up leather boots. "For fuck's sake Gid, it's two in the fucking morning, can't your brother wait until it's daylight?" Mary shoved the tangled mop of blond hair out of her face. "It's important, I'll be back before you know it." "Fine, don't wake me unless you've got apology sex." Gideon didn't laugh but pulled a sweater over the Stiff Little Fingers shirt he'd been sleeping in, leaned over, pressed a kiss to her pouting mouth and with a quiet pop apparated out. Flopping back against the pillows Mary stared at the ceiling. That was strange, Gideon hadn't been evasive like that before. She rolled out of bed and searched their room, he'd taken the note with him. She had no way of knowing were he'd gone and she couldn't exactly apparate around London looking for him, especially with Meadowes finally starting to sleep through the night. Mary decided that it was probably not that big of a deal. After all he would have told her. So she flopped down on the bed, sprawling diagonally so he'd have to wake her up when he got back. Her dreams were violent and disturbing. Eyes flickering back and forth under eyelids, R.E.M. sleep. Sweat slicked her skin. Mary tangled in the sheets, she never was a quiet sleeper. She always seemed to fight it with the extra energy she had from her waking state. Heart pounding against her ribs Mary shot up in bed, her fingers were tingling. Something was wrong. Meadowes was crying in her crib, little kitten cries, desperate and fitful. Mary could feel the same kind of cries pulling at her throat. Swallowing hard, she shove aside the covers to pad quietly into the next room. The walls were painted a bright and sunny yellow. Gideon had become overly nervous when Mary had found out she was pregnant. It took three months to finally decide on a color for the cramped spare bedroom they'd turned into a nursery. Mary, with a basketball sized belly, had been forbidden to help paint. "The fumes might turn the baby into a mutant!" "I'll turn you into a mutant," she'd grumbled. Meadowes stood clinging to the bars of her crib, fat tears rolling down her face from deep brown eyes her father gave to her. Mary picked her up and smoothed the ruffled blond curls. "It's okay baby, Mummy's here." Mary had never expected to become such a full and loving mother. It had changed her, softened her. She had cared more for her daughter than she was ever prepared to. As Mary turned to sit in the creaky old rocker that Dorcas had given to her as a baby shower present there was a knock on the door. A roar filled Mary's ears and Meadowes cries went from soft kitten mews to deep, desperate wails. Mary couldn't bring herself to open the front door. She just stood there staring at it, clutching to Meadowes. The knocking turned to frantic pounding. "Open the damned door, MacDonald." Moody growled. Another voice, muffled by the door, seemed to say something. Mary clutched the door knob, it seemed oddly cold to the touch for early fall. Moody and Dorcas stood on the threshold. "What--" Mary had to audibly swallow, "what's going on?" Dorcas laid a hand on her shoulder, "Mary we need to come in." "No time for niceties." Moody growled as he shoved by. Dorcas took Mary's hand and led her to the sofa. Moody paced back and forth over the creaking wood floors. Her eyes searching Dorcas' face for some kind of clue Mary asked, "I said, what's going on?" "There was an incident." Dorcas' voice seemed to fail, she looked to be on the brink of tears. The tingling in Mary's hands increased. Moody continued the story, "we sent owls, surprised to see you weren't there, MacDonald. We were overrun. Too many of the fuckers. Couldn't keep up. Had to apparate out of there. When we went back, there was nothing. No one's seen Gideon or Fabian in a couple hours now." A lightening of the sky signaled dawn was approaching. "We're hoping they just went under to lie low for a bit." "No." The word fell from numbed lips. "No, Gideon would come back. He wouldn't leave us. He'd find a way to let us know he's alright." Mary turned to Dorcas, her voice catching, "wouldn't he?" "I don't know." Dorcas had never felt more useless all she could do was hold her friend's hand as she crumbled. "He can't be gone." Mary was fighting tears. Gideon was fine, he was coming back. Wasn't he? The only sound that seemed to penetrate was the sound of Meadowes' screams. But wait, those weren't coming from Meadowes. They dripped from Mary's own lips. She didn't speak for a week. Dorcas stayed with her, helping to take care of Meadowes. He never came home. Less than a month later Dorcas was gone too. They'd found her body. Small and fragile in death. Mary had taken Dorcas home to her parents. She'd stood over Dorcas' grave, the sun shining in triumphant mockery of Mary's pain. "It should have been me." Mary believed that, completely. It should have been her. She'd gone home to empty out the cramped flat that had once been so full of him. She'd locked it up tight, handed over the key and walked away from everything that she used to be. Now they're only dim memories for her. She returned home, to that tiny island at the top of the world. The only reminder was a little girl with golden curls, deep brown eyes with the name of a friend.

mary would offer to let gid name a couple kids after his best friend but lbr she's not that nice. nature names just kind of h a p p e n e d like the names for their seven dogs, roy g. biv, hippies use back door!!1!