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*There's a knock at the door. A pounding, really, but Frank's a hard sleeper, and it doesn't do more than nudge him from dead asleep to the odd twilight passing between deeply out and waking. On habit he cracks open an eye to give a cursory glace at the clock; just past six, they don't have to be up for another hour. Already forgetting what had woken him, Frank resettles himself against his wife's warm body, the puppy giving a protesting whimper on his other side, at the movement.
The pounding at the door comes again, more forcefully, and this time it's enough to rouse Frank a bit more properly. It'll wake Neville, if it keeps up like that, and he groans into his pillow.*
Alice -
The pounding at the door comes again, more forcefully, and this time it's enough to rouse Frank a bit more properly. It'll wake Neville, if it keeps up like that, and he groans into his pillow.*
Alice -
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Date: 2011-10-19 05:31 am (UTC)*Rolling slowly up at Frank's voice, Alice manages to shuffle out of bed and down to the door.
But when she opens it, it's as though she's asleep again. She's had this dream before, many times. Only Frank isn't in bed upstairs, and the two men don't tell her it's Gideon and Fabian, and the dream always ends when she has to shut the door.
Now it's shut and she's numb. For a moment everything is gone, and she will never remember how she got back to their bedroom. Her next memory will always be wiping off her face and shaking Frank awake.*
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Date: 2011-10-19 12:18 pm (UTC)It's only seconds, though. Because then he looks up at her, and it's possible he's never been more awake in his life. Dragging himself bolt upright, Frank stares at Alice for a long moment, trying to get up the courage to say the part that has to - always - comes next. If the Ministry sent people to the door at six in the morning, then this is a personal loss and not a professional one, and it's the most frightened Frank's been in a long, long time. His throat feels dry, shallow.*
- Who?
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Date: 2011-10-19 03:14 pm (UTC)Gideon and Fabian.
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Date: 2011-10-27 05:58 pm (UTC)And then before it can pull into focus, everything takes a hard left, and Frank's face goes from shock to shut down in the space of a heartbeat. Slipping past Alice, he's on his feet and tracking down his trousers, the lines of his body hard with tension as he shakes his head.*
No.
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Date: 2011-11-24 02:32 am (UTC)Frank?
*But as he goes for his clothes, Alice jumps up. That change wasn't the sudden absence of grief but the abrupt feeling of danger. *
Frank, stop. What are you doing?
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Date: 2011-11-24 02:38 am (UTC)Where are my shoes?
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Date: 2011-11-24 04:51 am (UTC)Frank, Where are you going? Frank?
*She keeps saying his name over and over, as if it belonged to her now.*
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Date: 2011-12-03 03:48 pm (UTC)The flat, I've gotta go to the flat.
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Date: 2011-12-03 04:56 pm (UTC)Frank, no.
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Date: 2011-12-03 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-03 05:04 pm (UTC)You can't do this.
Please.
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Date: 2011-12-03 05:06 pm (UTC)*It's not a command, not really, just a flat statement of what he wants, but the hollowness in his face and voice is worse anyway.*
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Date: 2011-12-03 05:12 pm (UTC)Frank...don't. They're gone.
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Date: 2011-12-03 05:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-04 01:39 am (UTC)The fraternity in the office means the world to Dawlish, he's unapologetically stated it in several (mostly offensive) ways before. To see two of his brothers go down, even if they were pussies, is a real blow.
When Frank arrives, it's no shock. And Dawlish holds their front door open without so much as a word of warning, only a look of haggard commiseration.*
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Date: 2012-01-16 12:00 am (UTC)Stowing his wand in his jacket pocket, Frank steps into the flat. It's at once intimately familiar (how many nights had he slept on that couch before he'd married Alice?) and sickeningly wrong, even out of sight of any blood or bodies. There's a coldness to it, now, a sense that a light's been snuffed out. It's a feeling he knows too well from crime scenes, that ineffable knowing that a building is no longer a home, but merely a place where things and belongings and objects are, that used to mean something to someone. It's a mausoleum now. He knows, a step inside the door. He could stop now, go home and cry and let Alice hold him, and part of him wants to, knows it would be safer for his state of mind and kinder to his wellbeing. He knows it. But the part that knows is caged in on all sides by shaky terror and brittle rage that's riding his skin just under the surface, and a feeling at the back of his throat like he's about to be sick. He probably is. It still doesn't' stop him.*
Where?