Who: Emmeline Vance, Benjy Fenwick, Frank Longbottom
What: :(
Where: A library
When: This morning



When did libraries lose their power to heal a Ravenclaw's soul?

As her forehead pressed into the wood of the table she was sitting at, Emmeline pondered this thought; she used to be able to come into a library, no matter the size, the condition of the books, or the musty smell of the shelves, and find herself at ease with a remarkable solace washing over her. After Caradoc had left, she'd attempted to go back to the Longbottom's---well, no, she sat around for a bit and cried, and tried to find a reason to do anything, and then found herself apparating---home.

Not her flat, not Bristol---Emmeline opened her eyes and found that she'd disapparated to her old house in Liverpool, standing on the doorstep as if ready to unlock the door and retire for the night. There were lights on in the window, she could see shadows moving about and---Emmeline couldn't remember what she'd done, just that she'd left the stoop as quickly as she'd arrived. Her feet carried her away from house that wasn't her home, and it felt like an eternity before the library doors opened at six. The librarian smiled kindly at her; he recognized the girl that had found this place as a safe haven for so many years. He asked her what she had been up to, and Emmeline made up a lovely story about the dramatics of being a university student, and how she was studying to become a doctor. He congratulated her, and pointed out the reading section they'd renovated, and she'd been sitting there since.

That had felt like an eternity ago. Emmeline pushed her face up and into her hands, rubbing her eyes as she tried to wake up. She hadn't slept, but she wasn't entirely awake or mentally functioning at her full capacity. But, when was the last time she had been? Her hand idly slipped forward to grab the book she'd pushed away when she decided to drop her head to the table (no need to injury the tome), and Emmeline's fingers flipped it open once more, unsure of what she was waiting for.

Don't ask him how he'd found her.

Ben could hardly remember the events that had transpired between the time Frank had told him that Emmeline wasn't at his house and when he had set foot in this Muggle library. He was running on no sleep, had a nicely sized bump on his head and painful cuts and slashes all over that needed new bandages, and had absolutely no idea where to look. But Ben had been driven by pure fear and panic, because the morning after the Order had lost two members, Emmeline--Emmeline--was nowhere to be found. All the worst possible situations had been digging deep in the Gryffindor's mind for the past nearly three hours as he'd been looking everywhere he could think for her.

Liverpool was the last place he'd come, thinking that she couldn't possibly have wanted to go back there. After nearly breaking the door down after being rejected by the wards several times, he had given up hope--until a chance glance down the street had him walking towards a small library with no real explanation for it except that he knew that's where she was. Ben gave the man at the front desk her description, and oblivious to the librarian's alarmed look at his condition, set off in the direction of a little reading area near the back of the library at a jog the second Emmeline's location was out of his mouth.

Seeing her at last, he let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding but must have been since his search for her started. A long, angry lecture had been on the tip of his tongue the whole way there, but suddenly all he wanted to do was fall down into a chair and grab her tight into a hug. Well---the falling down into a chair would have to do for now, because he was pretty sure he'd bruised a rib... but later, once he'd had a pain potion. He hadn't noticed until then that his last one had probably worn off an hour ago.

"Jesus, Emmeline," was all Ben managed, as he ran a hand a hand down his face.

The body dropping into a seat at her table startled the life out of her. While Ben was falling down, Emmeline jumped to her feet, knocking her own chair back. "Ben!" she let out in a long breath, though she somehow managed to remain quiet; maybe all the time in the library had made her innately accustomed to its rules.

He looked---horrible! Emmeline's eyes immediately shot around the area, and when she didn't spot a person in sight, she whipped out her wand and pressed forward, hand grabbing his chin so she could work on the cuts and bruises and---what fucking time was it? How long had she been here? Emmeline had known that there was a fight going on, Frank couldn't hide that from her, but she'd been left in the dark from any other details that may have allowed her to join in. Part of her was grateful for that, but there was another raging voice in her head that was beyond angry at herself for not being there with the rest of the Order. Just look at Ben, she couldn't imagine how the rest of them had ended up.

A quick flick of her wrist summoned her chair over again and Emmeline was sitting and back to work. She didn't even think about how quickly her barely two months at St. Mungo's had come back to her, but she was surely glad that it did. The thought of hurrying back to the Order house to help the others came to mind, but she would make sure that Ben wasn't bleeding internally and about ready to keel over before that.

"You look like shit," she muttered, attempting to lighten the atmosphere, but the pained expression on her face foiled any sort of joke.

Ben moved to swipe her hands away from him, say they were in a Muggle building, brush off the injuries, but he found very quickly that he just couldn't muster up the energy. Eventually his hand fell loose at his side and he let out a long sigh, letting her do whatever she wanted. It was weird, how driven he'd been on the way here, and now that he was here he was no more useful than a rag doll.

"It's nothing," he mumbled in response to her words. Her light tone confused him--surely she knew that this hadn't been just any normal battle for them, even not being there--, but he didn't feel like asking why she was trying to lighten the mood. After all, her boyfriend (ugh, he couldn't even bring himself to insult him in his head anymore after everything, that was the most upsetting realization of all) had died, maybe she was... coping, or. In denial. Or something. Ben didn't really have the mental willpower at the moment to try and understand a woman, much less Emmeline Vance.

Long moments passed, and when he figured she was done tending to him, Ben finally forced himself to raise his eyes off the floor to look at her. Fine. She was--just fine. Of course he was happy about that--elated--, but-- "Jesus fucking Christ, Emmeline," he repeated in a tired voice, laced with dulled anger. "Do you know how frantic we've been? Where the hell have you been? I thought you were--we thought they got you too."

That--was not what she wanted to hear. Emmeline dreaded every report coming from the Order and their fights with the death eaters; it had been absolutely horrendous while at Hogwarts, waiting for the journal entry or owl that provided information about the injuries and---they'd always ended up coming back. Everyone always commented, or sent a patronus saying they were too tired to lift a quill. This was--Ben's words sent her into a shock, and Emmeline could feel her hands begin to shake. She pressed them down into her lap, forcing herself to keep some composure before she knew the full details.

We thought they got you too--who? Who could it---Ben looked exhausted, beaten up and ready to pass out, but he didn't seem to be terribly distraught...it couldn't be Frank, could it? Ben would be a much bigger mess if they had gotten Frank. Just the idea of it being Frank, that they got Frank made her heart ache, and she leaned forward to whisper to Ben, that maybe keeping a quiet tone would help ease this sense of panic. It couldn't be Frank, "I'm--sorry, I couldn't stay in the house---Ben, who--who?"

How could she ask him who had died? Or---or maybe they hadn't died, maybe the death eaters had just---they had kidnapped Frank and James, Lily, they'd taken Sirius last year too. Maybe that was what had happened, maybe the Order was plotting right now on how to get their missing member (members?) back. Emmeline liked this idea, and thinking that there was still some sort of hope in the matter kept her from jumping to any horrible conclusions. "Who did they--get?"

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. The second the words came out of her mouth, Ben was wondering if there was a gun anywhere he could use to shoot himself. He would rather die right now than have to be the one to tell her that Dearborn was dead---or missing, but---no, dead. He was dead, there was no way he could have survived that battle. They had been pissed off at him already, Ben had no doubt that the Death Eaters had gone after him with even more force than they had used to take care of Dorcas--and look what had happened to her. They'd probably blasted him into millions of pieces.

"Shite," he muttered to himself. Ben dropped his head to cradle in his hands, his head suddenly pounding even worse than before. One deep breath caused his whole body to shudder. He wondered for a long moment if he could hold her off long enough to take her back to Frank's and get---Alice to tell her. Yeah, Alice would be better, girls were so much better at this kind of thing. And Emmeline would probably hate him after this, she knew how little he cared about Dearborn, she'd probably think he was happy or something. Fuck, he didn't give a shit about the guy, but no one deserved to be---

Ben raised his head after what seemed like an eternity, and watched her with weary eyes. He had to tell her. Somehow, completely unfairly, this had become his burden. "Dorcas," he muttered. "They got Dorcas. And---Dear... Caradoc."

"You are a liar, Benjamin Fenwick!"

Emmeline recoiled immediately, putting her hands up as if ready to defend herself from the onslaught of lies that Ben had---her mind hadn't been able to recognize the fact that Dorcas was dead before she was blindsided by his words. Caradoc? How could Ben try to joke in such a serious situation? Why would he think this was funny, why---Caradoc was not at the battle last night, he had left to go and be safe, he would not go head first into a fight where the enemy was literally after his blood, he wouldn't---he wouldn't do that to her.

She stood, knocking her chair out from behind her once again. The thought that Caradoc could have left her, knowing that he was heading out to the fight, to his death was completely incomprehensible. He wouldn't, he wouldn't---he'd kept so much from her before, would he really think that not telling her would help? That---that this shock, that hearing it from someone else would be better? Emmeline's hands went to the side of her face, her mouth dropped as she tried to catch a breath but couldn't. He---he couldn't have! He couldn't have gone! He wouldn't do that to her! He wouldn't go and get himself killed when he had the perfect opportunity to just leave and go and----

"He's---he wasn't there---Ben, Ben---" she looked down at him; ha, how fucking perfect was this? Her ex-boyfriend telling her that her current had died and that---was this supposed to be some sort of joke? Fate--fate really had a fucking terrible sense of humor. "He wouldn't do that---you're lying, he wouldn't do that to me!"

Letting out a terribly strained sound, Emmeline pushed back against the table, staring at the ground in blurry confusion. This wasn't happening, Ben was just lying because he hated Caradoc and---and he was just---yes, that made sense, Ben was just a fucking liar.

Fuck. Fuck again and again and again.

He didn't care how many times in his head he let out the vulgar word, because the situation deserved it. She was---Emmeline was doing exactly what he had feared she would do. She thought he was lying, and getting a kick out of it. Was she fucking blind? Why the fuck would he lie at a time like this? Did she not see what he looked like? Did he look like he was jumping around and dancing and happy? They'd just had a battle and lost two people, at least one of which he had been extremely fond of---and even if he had hated Dearborn with every last fiber of his being (which he hadn't, alright, he hadn't hated him that much), he was a comrade. They had lost two comrades last night, and she thought he was---

"Look, I don't know what kind of fun you think I'm getting out of this, but---" He began to lash out at her, because he was upset too, he was angry too. After last night, he wanted to go find every single Death Eater and rip each one of their heads off--literally--just to get back for what had been done. But he stopped himself before he could say much more. As much as it hurt for her to say that he was lying, he supposed---he knew it was going to be bad. Maybe--hopefully--she was just in disbelief and didn't mean any of it, because if she didn't---fuck---Well, she had lost her boyfriend. He just had to remember that. As hard as that was to think about.

Maybe he should just---shut up. Let it sink in or something. Because as much as he wanted to reach out and grab her and shake her--or hug her, he wasn't sure, maybe both at the same time--he thought any action out of him at the moment might get him smacked and pushed away. He didn't need any more battle wounds, especially out of his distraught ex-girlfriend.

She didn't hear a word Ben said. Not a word, not a single word because it was taking every possible source of energy to keep her standing upright and breathing. Breathe, she had to remember to breathe because if she didn't breathe then---then---Emmeline's hands gripped onto the edge of the table behind her as her legs decided it was time to give out. No, no--she couldn't let herself get pulled into the spiraling void her mind was ready to sink into, she couldn't allow herself to believe this nonsense because that meant---there was no possible way that anything Ben had said was true, Emmeline was sure that this was all just a blurry dream she was having and she'd wake up with her face pressed against the book, the ink of its words pressed into her cheek--

There was no way she could ignore this pain. As hard as her mind was trying to convince her otherwise, Emmeline's heart was ripping in half as everything truly sank in. Caradoc was dead, he was dead, gone, he was---She'd watched him leave the Order house with silent, lingering hopes that one day she'd see him again, and clinging onto those dreams was what helped her make it through the night, but now---now--he was dead and gone forever---forever. There was nothing to hold onto, she'd told herself there was nothing she could keep for herself, but to have that actually be set in stone and torn away from her--

"I---" Her legs had completely given up now, and Emmeline let go of the table just for a second, to twist and let herself drop to the floor before gripping onto the edge once again as if she was going to attempt to pull herself back up, "I---I wasn't---there, I---I just----he---he died and---and I wasn't there."

She looked up at Ben, gaped up at him; what was she going to do?

Why was she looking at him like that?

Ben watched Emmeline in a stupor, no idea what he was supposed to be doing in a situation like this. As he watched her crumble to the ground, he was frozen in place, wanting to reach out and catch her and hold her, but unable to move his limbs to do---anything, he couldn't do anything. He felt like an idiot standing there, a useless idiot--and even worse, and idiot who had been the one to upset her like that. Why did he have to be the one to tell her? Fuck, he was not the right person for this job, he couldn't--what did he do?

He couldn't just stand there and stare at her. And---she couldn't just sit here in the library and break down, maybe they should---get out. And call help, because he couldn't deal with Emmeline alone like this.

Ben's numb fingers found the wand in his pocket and closed around it. Not even bothering to look around to make sure the librarian hadn't wandered back towards them, he held it in front of him and flicked it towards the window, sending out a silvery patronus to the first person he could think of. She's here. Help. He didn't know what else to say.

His head hurt. His head hurt beyond belief. It actually felt like it was going to split open in about five seconds. But Frank really didn't have time for that now, not one bit, because now was most certainly not about him. It felt like the last twenty-four hours had been the never ending nightmare from hell; containing Emmeline for her sanity, fighting, dueling, losing--- scrambling, mourning (Dorcas--- Dorcas, he hadn't even been able to---), and then finally coming back to the house to find Alice completely beside herself because Emmeline was gone. Gone.

As if this night alone hadn't been enough, he then had to come home thinking that he had to tell her about--- Caradoc, as if that wasn't enough. But instead-- no, no, realizing that she just might as well meet Dearborn's fate as too... it was beyond anything Frank had ever felt before. He couldn't even--- think, everything was happening at once, and he didn't even know where to begin. Everything was running through him at once, and he couldn't even force himself to pack everything away just for a few more hours, like an excelled auror, because it was Emmeline for fuck's sake! Didn't she understand--- how could she--- Frank wasn't even able to put together whether she had chosen to leave, or was forced to. Which was worse? He repeatedly mulled that thought over and over again in his head as he spent the rest of the night, and the beginning of the early morning, trying to find a sign of her anywhere.

But once Ben--- Ben, he knew he would always be able to count on Ben--- sent the patronus, it was like everything cleared away and one solid thought filled in every pore of his body. Get to Emmeline, get to Emmeline, and bring her home and away from anymore --- death, and misery for now. She didn't need this, she didn't need to be wandering around in the outside world just waiting for some Death Eater to pick her up. She needed to be with him, where he and Alice could take care of her, protect her until everything settled down again. Whether she openly liked it, or not, Emmeline was his top priority now.

Frank had an idea of where Ben was (after all, he had been the one to give Ben a list of places to look), and it only took him a few minutes to appear in front of the library. And, after a bit of searching (and hassling of the first person he saw), he finally busted into the room.

Emmeline. A fresh wave of relief (he would be angry--- later), washed over him as he saw Ben hovering and her--- crumpled on the floor. A deep frown formed on his face, and he quickly rushed past Ben without a word. How long had she been sitting there like that? Was she hurt? Why hadn't Ben tried to pick her up? Were her legs not working? Not like it mattered, at this point he was going to carry her out, whether she approved or not, making it impossible for her to run away again.

"Emmeline--- Emmeline," Frank rushed in a hoarse, strained tone as he grabbed onto her with one hand, and using the other to direct her face to look at him. She was--- shaking. Expertly, he looked over her body quickly for blood, bruises or marks but--- nothing. So--- "What's wrong, what happened to her?" he snapped, now looking at Ben with a hard face as he gripped onto Emmeline tighter as he began to pull her up. "Why is she like this?"

Caradoc Caradoc Caradoc---Caradoc, Caradoc! Emmeline's hands curled into fists as they pressed to her mouth, subconsciously trying to hold back her screaming. There was no way she was actually thinking of anything besides him, that name.

She'd always honestly disliked that name. It didn't flow off the tongue, it didn't sound nice, it was a god-awful name that was only given to children by parents who didn't care and laid as a constant reminder---Emmeline had all these theories and ideas about his stupid, stupid name. She'd spent so much time ranting about it to Anneliese when she hated him, or trying to figure out what the hell his parents were thinking when teasing about it with Juliet----or letting Ellie convince her that it was a terribly handsome name, like one of those you pulled out of romance novels, the name of the devilishly handsome bloke that swept the maiden off her feet--

Someone was---Emmeline blinked furiously, eyes coming into focus on Frank's worried face. She hadn't felt her body rise up or when her feet had planted themselves into the ground to help her stand. Now the feeling of Frank's hands gripping into her arms was slowly climbing up her shoulders and Emmeline sucked in a sharp breath, snapped back into the reality she had--just for a moment escaped. God--damnit, why did he have to bring her back? She listened to him address Ben, Ben was still here too and Emmeline finally regained her consciousness.

"Caradoc--" she croaked, lips pulling back tightly as she tried to keep the little steadiness she'd managed. It wasn't going to last long, Emmeline could feel the trembling in her legs begin once again and her hands managed to reach forward to grab onto the front of Frank's cloak, "Caradoc." Now, now all she could say was his name, the one thing that was causing her the worst pain she'd ever felt in her life. This had to be what dying felt like, that there was absolutely no escape from what was making you this terribly miserable. "It's---Caradoc--"

This was all because of---- Caradoc? Frank faltered for a few seconds, his mouth hanging open slightly. The reason behind why she looked like she was about to vomit all over him, why her limbs were suddenly unable to work, and why her face (her face, her face; he wanted to look away but he couldn't) looked they way it did was all because of Dearborn? Because he was---- gone? It looked--- it looked like she was going through withdrawal from a drug, for fuck's sake! Like--- as if he had been some drug to her, and now it was gone, so she was unable to handle the fact. Had he honestly--- honestly meant that much to her? With a sinking feeling, Frank realized things were going to be much, much worse than he had originally thought.

"Okay--- okay," he hushed, pushing back the chair with his feet to make room. Ben's presence, while Frank was still aware that his best friend was still standing there and grateful that he had found Emmeline, suddenly felt unnecessary. He had not been able to handle Emmeline, but somehow found a way to slip in Caradoc's fate... not that it mattered, now. She would have found out eventually, and there wouldn't be a best time to bring up something like that anyway.

"I know, I know," Frank repeated, desperate for any selection of words that would get her to calm down even the slightest. His arms moved to hold onto her tighter, nearly taking all weight off of her feet. He frowned, suddenly wishing that she was just a nameless witch that needed help in the street after an attack. Because then, going through this wouldn't be so painful; he could be the constant auror that, without a doubt in the other person's mind, would be able to take care of this. But--- now he wasn't so sure.

"Come on," he eased, finally pulling her up into his arms. Glancing at Ben, he nodded his head toward the door. What a strange procession they would make walking through the library. Not that he cared, that was the last thing on his mind.