The pain at the sight of his keys soaring past him could have made him sick. Thomas watched them get summoned past him, his body twisting until he saw them fall into Rose's hands. He knew that she hadn't meant to hurt him, that she couldn't possibly have known, but this was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid. He didn't want anyone's help. He would do everything, all of this by himself. He didn't want to owe anyone, he didn't want to depend on anyone. Thomas had worked his whole life to make sure that he didn't have to lean on any one person but now---
He looked down miserably at the floor as Rose grew closer. He couldn't look her in the eye, he couldn't! He felt so ashamed, so useless, so---
"These--these men, they grabbed me and Saoirse---they---I can't remember a lot, but they---" Thomas kept his head ducked down as he rolled up the sleeves of his robes; it was unbearably hot outside but he'd insisted on his long-sleeved cloaks. Thomas winced at the still healing scars that raced up and down and across his arms; they were made by muggle equipment so it was taking longer for the potions to heal them. He did his best to keep his voice steady, but seeing the scars again, knowing that Rose was seeing them too..."We got back and----I couldn't apparate, our--our wands were gone, it---I can't do--the simplest of magic, it...my broom won't come up it's----"
Thomas sucked in a deep, shaky breath through his nose as a few tears escaped and dropped to the ground. He furiously wiped at his face, feeling hot all over, so embarrassed. He couldn't look at her, he could not look at Rose because this was just---he was just in shambles and he couldn't stand it if she felt sorry for him.
"I can't do magic," he admitted, the words sending a tremor through his body, and Thomas covered his face with his hand, trying his best to push the tears that were seeping out back.
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