Such Fragile, Broken Things

[Amalia Qeb]

April 21, 1884
Note: This thread, while rated PG-13, alludes to some sensitive topics so just be forewarned!

Amalia was dazed when she woke. Lying in an alley in the slums, dressed well enough and disoriented for a moment before the pain on her body brought to the forefront of her mind everything that had happened to her. Immediately she let out a sob, trying to scurry herself to her feet. The thoughts of everything that had happened - the fact that she couldn't put a face on her attacker - all of it was so distressing that for a moment all she could do was lean against the outside of a building, crying with her hand covering her mouth.

It was terribly late and Amalia hazarded a guess that morning time would be coming soon. She thought of Ozier - his very name bringing a pain to her chest - and how he must be wondering where she was. But she couldn't go home. Not after what had happened, not after that man whose face she still couldn't remember. The very thought of seeing Ozier sent her further into hysterics and as she grasped for her wand she was only halfway consciously aware of deciding to disapparate to her friends home.

She fell to a slump when she arrived in Art's room, miraculously having arrived undamaged. She was certain that the crack of her arrival would wake him but even so she said his name in a broken sort of sob. She didn't know why she was there - why of all people she was going to see him. But he was her friend and she could hardly go home to Ozier. Her family was no longer an option. He was the only person she felt she could see at this moment, and she only hoped he wouldn't hate her terribly for arriving unannounced, sobbing as she was.

  

[Arthur Pettigrew]

Crack! Arthur woke up with a start. His heart thumped in a panicked sort of beating, and for a moment he was entirely confident that he was about to be stabbed - but no, itwas just Mia.

A sobbing, slumped, messy-looking Mia.

His first thought was that this was one of his hallucinations, that he had been dreaming about gambling. But it couldn't be - his head hurt when it was throwing nightmares at him, which meant that this was real.

But that didn't make any sense. Why would Mia be like this? Why would she come here like this?

"Mia?" Art said, rubbing his eyes as though that would clear his vision and he would discover himself in an empty room, "Mia - what happened to - how - what?" He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, approaching her rather cautiously.

  

[Amalia Qeb]

Her first instinct, when he moved from the bed and approached her slowly, was to flinch away. She had these never-ending memories of what had just happened and the last thing she wanted was for anyone to be near her. But she knew it was stupid, a part of her was yelling that it was she who had gone to him. Another part was yelling that she did want someone near - someone she trusted and someone she loved. Art definitely had both of those things from her. He was a great friend to her she thought and even if she was feeling terrible, exhausted and extremely distressed she needed that: her friend.

She just wasn't sure if she was capable of being comforted and that thought made her crying even worse. She felt frantic and scared, gasping for breath between sobs and hoping and praying that she would just stop. She didn't want to frighten him but what else could her actions cause? She showed up out of the blue while he was sleeping in the wee hours of the morning, sobbing uncontrollably and slumped on his floor. How could she expect him not to be alarmed? She didn't, exactly. She just wasn't sure she could find her voice to say anything - or that she even wanted to say anything at all. Because how could you admit to anyone that you'd just been ruined and sullied? She felt dirty and the very thought of ever telling anyone what had happened - even in part - made her sick to her stomach.

"Art...I c-can't..." She said through gasping breaths, hazarding a glance up at him before looking down immediately. She couldn't look him in the eye knowing that she was ruined now. She couldn't say the words. She almost wanted to, almost wanted to let him tell her that it wasn't her fault though she knew it was. She wanted someone to tell her it was going to be okay, that she'd be safe but she hardly felt that. So she just buried her face in her hands and cried more, feeling so stupid for even going to his home but knowing that she couldn't go to her own. Not now.

  

[Arthur Pettigrew]

Arthur hovered over her, filled with unsurety. He didn't know what to do. Someone had hurt her, clearly - and he didn't know what to do. Why had she come to him? Why hadn't she gone home - unless it was her not-husband that had done whatever horrible thing to her?

He sat down next to her on the floor, legs curling underneath him. Arthur was naturally tactile in his affection but he didn't know if that would be helpful or what - he kept his hands folded in his lap and looked at her helplessly. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know if there was anything he could do.

"Who was it?" Arthur asked sharply - perhaps more sharply than he had intended, and he immediately shook his head as though to clear it. "Was it - was it Qeb? Because I'll murder him, Mia, I swear to -" He was caught off guard by the knowledge that that wasn't at all an empty threat. If Arthur could get his hands on the person who had hurt her - and someone had to have hurt her - he would fucking kill them.

  

[Amalia Qeb]

It was an almost-wail that had escaped her lips when he suggested that perhaps Ozier was the one who had hurt her. Her eyes were wide and she instantly jerked her head up to look at him, head frantically shaking side to side because no, it wasn't Ozier. Ozier...Ozier would never hurt her. He wasn't capable of hurting her. She knew that down to her bones - even if she couldn't put a face to her attacker, there was no way it could ever be Ozier. Not after all they'd gone through. Not after he'd come back from Egypt to win her back. No...he could never hurt her the way the monster she'd just been freed from had hurt her.

"I - " She tried to choke the words out, stammering a bit before managing: "I don't know who did this." In a pathetic sort of voice that sounded so foreign to her ears. She'd never felt so defeated in her life and she wondered for a moment - in the part of her mind that was still functioning - if she'd ever feel normal again. How could she share her bed with Ozier every night knowing that she'd been ruined? How could she even look at him knowing that someone had done that to her? For a moment she whimpered out soft cries, thinking that she'd never be okay. She'd never recover from this, she'd never be able to be the woman she ought to have been for Ozier. She'd always be some broken thing that she didn't even know she was capable of being. Amalia had never thought herself to be weak before but in that moment it was hard to think of herself as anything but.

  

[Arthur Pettigrew]

It wasn't Qeb. And she didn't know who it was, but it wasn't him. Arthur felt terribly helpless - which was a useless feeling when he was supposed to be helping her, but he wasn't sure what to do. And Arthur, who was usually rather tactile in his affection, did not think that she wanted to be touched.

"I can make coffee," Art said, "Or tea. Or you could take a bath or - whatever you need, I'll do it, Mia." He had caught on to what had to have happened - there were very few things that would have sent Mia running to him, and the way she talked about it, it was easy enough to guess. But he wouldn't say what it was, because he didn't want to - the word was taking up most of his mind and he still couldn't ask her.

He didn't want to hurt her more. And it was bad enough to know that he could not get his hands around the neck of whoever had done this.

  

[Amalia Qeb]

A part of her felt terrible still for burdening Arthur with her grief. While true she considered him one of her closest - if not her closest - friend, it was not his job to comfort her in the wee hours of the morning. But she hadn't known where else to go. Her family would hardly care and going to her home in the slums was out of the question. There was nowhere else to go, no one close enough to run to. So she'd wound up there and he was being so kind to her but that was not surprising. Arthur was a colorful man to be sure but he was a good man even through any shortcomings he may have had. Even if it felt silly to be comforted by offers of such simple things like tea or coffee or even a bath she most certainly was comforted in some vague sense and tried to sniffle away all the tears, get them out of her system so that she could attempt normality.

"A bath would be nice if it isn't too much trouble." She found herself saying without thought, sniffling all the way through the words. It was a terrible imposition but she felt so incredibly dirty - she couldn't return home like that. She couldn't return to Ozier and risk him seeing her, as if he'd see the filth just by looking at her. It was bad enough that she likely had bruises - she could remember the hits even if she could not put a face to her attacker - and she couldn't risk even a second of Ozier seeing her in such an excessively unclean state. Even if said uncleanliness was entirely in her mind. "Thank you, Arthur." She said weakly as an afterthought, not certain she'd remember to say it later. But it needed to be said regardless. He was not her keeper and there was no obligation for him to assist her. And yet he was.

  

[Arthur Pettigrew]

"Right," Arthur said, "Follow me, then." Setting up baths via magic and not maids was something he had eventually gotten the hang of, and after filling it and using a spell to warm the water he turned to leave her. 'My roommate's out for the night," Art said, "So - take all the time you need. Shout if you need anything."

He was going to make coffee - at least for himself, because he suspected that he wanted to be awake whenever Mia finished bathing, because she had been attacked and she had come to him. Underneath the layers of shock, horror, and anger - Arthur was glad that she had come here. They were good friends, and he wanted to help her in whatever way he could, even if he couldn't really do anything to whoever had attacked her.

But if he ever found out who had done this, they were dead.

  

[Amalia Qeb]

Amalia had stood awkwardly as he prepared the bath, watching him wirelessly with eyes that didn't look fully alert. And perhaps she wasn't but how could she be expected to be in her situation? When Arthur turned to leave, informing her that his roommate wasn't home, anxiety surged in her. He was going to leave her alone and perhaps in a less distressed state of mind she would have been thankful for that. But not at that moment. She didn't want to be alone.

So she requested- rather meekly - that he stay. "Could you..." she paused nervously before finishing in a stuttering, weak voice: "Could you stay?" She hated to impose on him like that and force him to stay in her presence when she made for very poor company. But the terror of being left alone, the sense that she'd not be safe if he were to leave her even for a second was overwhelming. It was as though his eyes were beacons of safe light and if they left her she would be doomed once more.

  

[Arthur Pettigrew]

"Of course," Arthur said as soon as she had finished asking. He sat down on the bathroom rug and leaned against the wall, wrapping his arms around his legs. Staying was the least he could do - really, in that moment, he would have done anything that she asked.

He could not believe that someone had done this to her. He couldn't imagine what she was feeling; he supposed that he probably did not want to know.