Tomorrow & Tomorrow & Tomorrow

[Lupus Jameshill]

15 Feb 1881

Merricks was timely, as usual, and Lou didn't have to wait long after his transformation back before the man arrived with a fresh set of clothes and his wand. Nights like these left him dazed and disoriented, for the first several minutes, and it wasn't until he was washing his face with the basin that the servant had brought down that he remembered. Xena.

He was still buttoning his shirt as he raced up the stairs. He wanted to go straight to Amity's room, where he'd left his fiancee the night before, but he had a moment of doubt--assuming that Xena had been able to get to sleep after their conversation, she probably hadn't been asleep long. He couldn't barge into his sister's bedroom while they were both still asleep. Breakfast wouldn't be for another hour. Would it be safer to wait until then? If she was asleep anyway, he could use the extra time to actually get himself in good form for the day, instead of just throwing on the clothes Merricks had brought him down in the basement. That might be reassuring to her, in a way... it would certainly be preferable to showing up at her door the night after a transformation looking haggard and wild.

You're scaring me, she'd said last night. Lou didn't want her to be afraid of him. He didn't want her to think there was any reason she would have to be afraid of him. He could probably stand a quick shave, before trying his sister's room.

He glanced at Amity's door with a pang of nervous anticipation, but then continued towards his own. The noise of a piece of paper being dragged along the bottom edge of the door greeted him as he opened it, and he recognized the handwriting on the envelope immediately. His heart sank before he even picked it up, dreading to see what might be inside. There was the tiniest little bulge in the envelope... something more than a letter.

Her ring.

Adrenaline had propelled him up from the basement, but now every bit of energy he'd had seemed to go out of him at once, as though someone had just taken the bottom out of him and now everything was in free fall. He stared down at the ring, where it had fallen out of the envelope and into his palm, and for a long moment he didn't have the strength to do anything, even to look at the letter that had accompanied this devastating development. By the time he was able to pull the letter out, he was sitting down on the floor of his bedroom, his back up against the door that he'd closed behind him. He couldn't remember closing the door or sitting down, and he had no idea how much time had passed. Somehow, he didn't think it mattered anymore.

The first time he read the letter, it was as though his brain were numb. He had to read over sentences multiple times to make any sense of them, and his thoughts came sluggishly. It wasn't until his second read that he started to notice the language that she'd used. 'It was so my dearest wish to be your wife', she'd written. 'Betrayed not just by the man I love.'

She loved him, still.

Lou rose, still holding her ring in one hand and her letter in the other, and crossed to his desk. Xena loved him. She'd broken the engagement, but she loved him. That meant that he could fix this. It wasn't too late.

He started on a letter to her, then scrapped it and started another. He agonized over every word. He scribbled things out, then went back to re-read her letter a dozen times, two dozen times. What he sent her had to be perfect, flawless, if he wanted to get her back. A servant came to knock on his door and Lou shouted that he wasn't hungry and wouldn't be coming to breakfast. The man knocked again--Miss Fisk was not in Miss Amity's room, that morning, he told Lou. Of course, he already knew that, but he had forgotten that everyone else would be learning of these developments as they woke today. He'd have to contend with his father and mother within minutes, most likely, wanting to know what had happened. He didn't have time for this--he still had a letter to write.

"Miss Fisk had to leave early this morning," he told the servant. "She's back at home. It's all alright."

That wasn't even just a convenient lie to buy him more time to handle this, either. Bent over his desk, furiously trying to compose this letter, Lou really believed that it would be alright. Xena loved him; that was all they needed to pick up the pieces and move forward. He just needed to get this letter to her, and hope it wasn't too late.

  

[Lupus Jameshill]

16 Feb 1881

He had spent most of the day in his room, expecting an owl from her. He'd been unable to avoid leaving once or twice, for food, but he'd been notably anxious every second he was away from the window. His family knew there was something wrong, but so far he'd been able to avoid bringing it up. They knew something must have happened between him and Xena, of course, and they probably feared the worst, but so far Lou hadn't had to tell anyone about the broken engagement. He hoped he never would have to tell anyone about it. He hoped that he could slip away to see her, and fix everything, and then the next time she came here, she would once again have his ring on her finger.

The basement was waiting for him again that night. He paced while he waited for the change to come, wondering every moment if he was missing her letter. The next morning he'd raced back up to his room and his heart had skipped a beat when he saw the envelope lying there.

It should have been familiar, but he'd torn into it before he realized that the handwriting on the front was his own. The very same letter that he'd spent so much time agonizing over before sending to her had been returned to him--and she hadn't even opened it. She hadn't even opened it. How was he supposed to fix this if she wouldn't let him?

He couldn't be angry with her; he was too angry at himself for having allowed this to happen to spare any anger for anyone else. He did feel... untethered. Adrift. He had pinned all his hopes on that letter, and to have it returned without her even having read a word of what he'd written... There was nothing to do. There was nowhere else to go. He was lost in a dark wood, and every path had disappeared from beneath his feet.

Lou couldn't accept that, though, because if there was no way forward, then that meant he'd really lost her. He couldn't just accept that. There had to be something. He'd write her a dozen letters--maybe sooner or later she'd open one. Or he'd show up at her house. He knew where she lived. He could stand below her windowsill and throw pebbles at the glass and wait until she opened it, then fall down on his knees and tell her how sorry he was and how desperately in love with her he was. He could transfigure the trees outside her window to spell out love notes in the wintery branches. He could do something that would get her attention, something she wouldn't be able to ignore. He could still fix this.

He hadn't fixed on any sort of plan, but he was so filled with the sudden desire to be in action that he was on his feet and dressed in heavy winter clothes in an instant, and headed towards the downstairs parlor to the floo. When he touched the doorknob, however, he froze, realizing that he would almost certainly have to get by either his sister or one of his parents in order to get out of the house. He'd been able to avoid it yesterday, but he couldn't manage that today, he was certain. Did his sister already know what had happened? Had she already told their parents? Xena might have woken her up when she came back upstairs, and told her everything that had happened. Maybe what Lou had perceived as uneasiness yesterday over a lack of knowledge had really been uneasiness over how to broach the subject of his failed engagement.

His father would probably be disappointed. This had been his chance at happiness, at a normal life. The older man had encouraged him to chase after Miss Fisk, and now... Now she was gone, and it was undeniably, irrevocably Lou's fault. Lou wondered if his father thought that the loss of Miss Fisk meant that Lou would never have another chance. He certainly felt as though losing her would be the end.

He let his hand drop from the door handle. He wasn't sure he was capable of facing his father, like this. Instead, he went back to the desk and picked up a quill.

Please, Xena, he prayed as he pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. Please read this.

  

[Lupus Jameshill]

17 Feb 1881

There was a reply this morning, but it wasn't the one he was waiting on. The handwriting wasn't hers; the signature read "B. Fisk." His would-have-been father-in-law, then. The letter was short--little more than a note, really. The instructions were simple. Do not write to Miss Fisk again. Make no attempt to see her.

He hadn't gotten his letters returned this morning. Did that mean Xena had read them? He doubted it. They might just as easily have ended up in the fireplace, or a rubbish bin. They might have been intercepted by her father and they might never have reached her at all. How much did Brannon Fisk know about the situation? Enough, apparently, to decide that he didn't want Lou anywhere near his daughter. That could have meant anything, though--perhaps Xena had told him she had broken off the engagement and he was being protective without knowing the full story. Maybe she'd told him something of it, but not specifics, and he'd been left to draw his own conclusions. That was discouraging, more and more so the more he thought about it.

What would Xena have said? That he had betrayed her trust? And then would that have lead her father to assume that he'd... been unfaithful, perhaps? Oh, Merlin, he couldn't bear the idea of Xena's entire family thinking so poorly of him, but what was the alternative? It would be better for them to think he was some sort of irresponsible, drunk, woman-chasing cad than to know the truth--but how was he ever supposed to win them back over if they thought so little of him?

His mind was racing down this path, focused entirely on how he could fix things, when the realization hit him from nowhere, so sudden and unexpected it knocked the breath out of his chest: he wasn't meant to win her family back over. Xena had broken off their engagement, and no matter what she'd told her family, she hadn't had him in mind when she was doing it. There wouldn't be any path to climb out of this hole he'd fallen into. They were over. He'd actually lost her.

He had been keeping her ring in his pocket ever since she'd left it in his room, and over the past three days he'd been constantly reaching for it, his fingers worrying over the smooth surface. He pulled it out now and looked at it in the center of his palm. It looked so tiny, so out of place, so fragile and delicate in his large hands. He felt like that ring: small, breakable, lost. What was he going to do, without her?

Lou leaned his head against his left hand, letting his right hand rest on his desk as he continued to look at Xena's ring. He stayed just like that for quite a while, his chest aching and thoughts coming to him sluggishly. He'd have to see Brannon Fisk when he went back to work, at the Ministry. Some of her brothers, too. Sooner or later, he'd have to see her. How was he supposed to see her, and know that he'd never be able to touch her again?

He didn't know what Brannon Fisk knew. He didn't know what any of the Fisks knew. Would Xena have told them? Either way, they'd have to come up with some sort of cover story for the broken engagement. How were they supposed to do that, if he couldn't talk to her? He'd have to talk to Brannon, he supposed. He'd have to try and figure out what Brannon knew, and what he was planning on saying to people. Or what he'd already said.

Merlin. It had been three days. People might already know. What story was Xena telling them?

Lou knew there was a lot to do, if he wanted to be able to salvage anything. He had to see how many people had heard about his secret. He didn't think Xena would have told anyone--except maybe her family--but he didn't know. What was he going to do if all of the Fisks already knew? What if someone else already knew?

Was his life over? Would he be able to pick up the pieces and go back to work? He didn't know. At the moment, he didn't care--but he knew that was just the heartbreak talking. He should care. He needed to care. The secret didn't affect him alone; it had become a family secret. It would hurt his parents and his siblings if things got out of hand. He needed to do something, to be proactive about controlling the damage--but he didn't know how. How could he possibly work to pick up the pieces when it was his own life that was falling apart? How could he deal with this while also dealing with the flaming wreckage of his love life?

He couldn't. Plain and simple. He knew there was damage control that needed to be done, but he didn't feel capable of doing anything but sitting here and staring at her ring and trying to convince himself this wasn't happening, even as the realization that it was continued to slowly sink in.

Lou probably looked like a dead man walking when he left his room a moment later. He hadn't slept properly since the night of the thirteenth. The moons had quite a bit to do with that, but he hadn't been able to get more than a fitful nap in during the days, either, while anxiously awaiting the letters from Xena that hadn't ever come. He had rings under his eyes and stubble on his cheek as he shuffled into his father's study, his hand clasped around her ring.

He didn't have anything left. No more energy, no more strength. Xena was gone, and he was broken.

"Dad," he said, his voice hollow. "I--" What? What could he possibly say? What words could he find that conveyed this overwhelming--Merlin, it was overwhelming, and he wasn't even sure he'd realized how much until he'd tried to vocalize it. He opened his hand again, blinking at her ring as his eyes stung. "I need help."