9:45 PM
The Barlowe Family Home
The girl shook as she stood on the front porch of Maddox and Julia's new home, a place she'd never been before, full of memories and a family she wasn't apart of. Somewhere along the line, while Rosie was escaping her reality with Cassian, Julia and Maddox had married...and even had a baby together.
She'd missed so much in what felt like such a short amount of time. Entire families had been destroyed and new ones had been built. Though Rosalie had run, the world kept turning without her, and now here she stood, hoping to still belong to something, while her own marriage felt like it was imploding on itself.
She'd stood with Cassian in front of the gate, holding each other as the silence of the night filled everything they couldn't say. This had been her choice, but even with that in the forefront of her mind, she hadn't been able to let him go or pull herself away from him. It was only his final, gentle nudging and urge not to let the house fall asleep before she knocked on the door that enabled her to say goodbye to him. A kiss, soft, but somehow feeling final and she'd left him there, refusing to look back as she'd crossed the large front garden and climbed the steps.
A soft knock, almost timid, before her hand became more urgent, willing them to open the door before she fell apart again.
"Maddox, someone's at the door!"
"At this hour? Are you expecting someone?"
"No one..."
Rosalie swallowed hard, her hand tightening on the bag that dangled off her shoulder. The front door's lock clicked, before swinging open, its owner staring out at her in confusion. Her lips parted at the sight of Maddox. The last time she'd seen him had been at Hogwarts, shortly before that summer commenced, and while she wouldn't say they were close, he had been her favorite professor and one she'd trusted more than the rest. Other than Julia.
"...Rosie?"
Fresh tears formed in her eyes. Her lip trembled. Rosie let out a soft cry and rushed him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle as she cried into his shirt, her bag falling to the wooden porch with a soft thud. Stunned, Maddox stood there for a moment, unsure of what was happening, before he lowered an arm to hold the younger girl gently. He glanced over his shoulder, catching the eye of his wife and beckoning silently for her to come and collect her little cousin.
"What is it?" she asked, bouncing a wide-awake Jude in her arms as she rounded him, her eyes widening and softening at the same time at the sight of Rosalie.
"Dove," Julia breathed, handing Jude off to his father while she peeled the sobbing girl from her husband and took her into her own arms. "What's happened? Where's...is Cassian okay? Come on. Come inside." The two adults led the girl through the front door, closing it softly behind them, while she fell apart in the safety of what was left of her family.
The wood creaked beneath her weight as her hands grasped the shallow load-bearing planks of the barn, her feet propelling her upwards with every ledge they found. Large blue eyes shimmered with determination as she climbed, the heat of the summer evening doing nothing to slow her down.
It had been a long week. Maddox and Julia had taken her in without question, curious of course as to what was going on, but giving it no consideration as to whether she'd be allowed to stay. She'd spent time with Julia, lamenting everything that had transpired since she and Cassian had run off together, while her cousin listened attentively. She'd played with Evander, letting his giggles and endless energy reignite something soft and gentle that she'd pushed away. She'd...said hello to Kathryn without a response. Several times.
And then there was Jude. The first time Julia had placed the baby in her arms, Rosalie took in every little detail of his features. Soft blue eyes like his father, Julia's smile and dimples. Light brown hair, a combination of the two of them. Handsome like Maddox, curious like Julia - his eyes always watching attentively to whatever was going on. His pudgy little arms and belly that spoke of how well he ate.
She'd cried. The loss of her own baby - wondering what he would have looked like, what he would have been like - while still marveling at the miracle of holding Julia and Maddox's baby had summoned emotions she still hadn't reconciled. She'd kissed his little head and cuddled Jude while Julia held her, reassuring her she was okay, and that everything would stop hurting soon.
Would it? Rosalie didn't know. There seemed to be so much pain to work through that in some ways it felt impossible. While she wasn't starving herself and knew she needed to take things one step at a time, in many ways it still felt like the sun was refusing to rise.
Cassian was her everything. The boy that had first smiled at her in summer camp and became her first real friend had left behind an absence that she couldn't fill with anything but the rush of adrenaline. She felt him in everything she did. If she baked bread for the family dinner, she added a little extra salt because she knew it was what he liked, even if he wouldn't be there. When she made the bed Maddox had setup for her in the finished attic, she fluffed the pillows that was Cassian's side of the bed. When she fixed her hair in the morning, she left a few pieces framing her face, the way she knew he liked.
She missed him. Saying she 'missed him' didn't do justice to the ache she felt. She thought about him constantly. If he was okay. If he was using. If he was working. If he had told his friends at the theatre. If they were taking him out to get his mind off things. If he missed her as much as she missed him. If he forgave her for all of this, or if he was harboring anger that she wouldn't know how to soothe.
She huffed as she pulled herself up onto the roof of the barn and sat there for a moment, looking out across the Barlowe family property. It was beautiful, the home that Maddox and Julia had created together. Despite her own pain, it did her heart good to see that her cousin had found love and the family she deserved. After all that Julia had been through, Rosalie was happy to see her so content. She deserved this happiness, as did Maddox.
Rosie stood, balancing herself on the top beam as the sun glowed orange and pink as it settled into the hills behind their home. It was a large barn and she was high enough up off the ground that a jump to her broom wouldn't be too dangerous. She hadn't tried an accio jump yet, but the opportunity hadn't presented itself until now.
She just needed to feel something else. Anything else.
Holding out her hand, she called for the broom she'd left on the back porch, and as it raced towards her, she took a deep breath. She steadied herself, watching the broom with careful precision and with what she hoped was the right timing, the girl took a running leap towards the edge.
baby i'm high octane
Fever In A Shockwave
Friday, June 30, 1922
9:45 PM
"Maddox, someone's at the door!"
The groan was automatic. "At this hour?" Frankly, any hour would've been inconvenient for the man who'd spent the day nursing a sick and cranky toddler. Evander, while...hyperactive, wasn't a difficult baby. He ate whatever was put in front of him, understood that when his father's voice grew rough, it meant the end of any grand designs on defiance. He played outside for hours if allowed. The opposite was true when he was sick. He'd spent the day clinging to his father, refusing most of what either he or Julia provided and being difficult to settle.
While Julia took care of Jude—and kept him far from his brother so they wouldn't have two sick babies—Maddox did what he could to make their son comfortable. Now he was exhausted, slumped in the couch and trying to ignore the call that someone happened to be at their front door. "Are you expecting someone?"
"No one..."
Sigh.
He peeled himself off the couch and made his way to the door, but what he found on the other side wasn't something he could've imagined no matter how many guesses he'd been given. Rather, it was who he saw standing on the other side.
"Rosie?"
Before he could react, the girl flung herself at him. The years spent comforting his children and reluctantly comforting others made his hands rise instinctively to wrap around her, even as he cast a gaze over his shoulder to his wife. His plea was silent, but Julia caught the meaning easily. While she took over the role of soothing the girl, he moved through the open door, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever might have caused the sudden appearance and distress. There was only a curly-haired boy standing at the end of the yard—McCormick, he realised after a closer look. Maddox's gaze shifted between the two, moving from the darkness of the countryside to his lit living room and the girl sobbing her heart out inside.
He sighed as he shut the door, doubting he wanted to know but realising that he would soon enough. There was always something with those two.
Friday, July 7, 1922
6:42 PM
It was Evander who told him that Rosie was on the roof.
Maddox had been finishing some work on the inside of the barn, the baby demiguise he'd taken charge of sitting on his shoulder with little hands clinging to his hair while he fed the injured Aethonan. The routine was a simple one, and all the creatures currently in his care had already gotten used to his evening walk through it. They'd been fed, they'd been brushed, and their injuries – those that had them – had been checked for signs of healing. As he forked hay into the enclosure, his toddler tugged at his pants and pointed up.
He'd sprinted in from the doorway, in much better spirits (and with more energy) than he'd been in when the girl first arrived. The excitable 3-year-old squealed his excitement at the spectacle the man didn't entirely understand.
What would Rosie be doing on the roof?
Setting the demiguise back on the stand he'd crafted for her, the man walked to the entrance of the barn. He stepped back by several paces until he finally got a glimpse of the girl walking to the right edge of the roof. He squinted for a moment, having to take another few steps back while he tried to figure out what the hell she thought she was doi–
Shit.
There was no time to convince himself that she wouldn't; no time to ponder whether he was ascribing undue definitions to what might have otherwise been a perfectly reasonable explanation. The transformation took hold of him in an instant. The magic contracted his muscles, shrinking him down even as he sprang forward. The black cat was on the roof before his tail could be fully formed. He darted across the timber, pouncing over the beams as she summoned something he couldn't see. Rosie took off running. The world slowed around him. Fur gave way to skin, the man stretching back into form in time for his hand to grab hold of her by the back of her shirt.
She was briefly airborne, her feet getting her off the roof before one strong tug of his arm brought her crashing back down.
It was the fastest he'd been forced to go in a while, and his heart pounded for his reluctant effort.
As Rosie clattered against the wood, Maddox rounded on her. His expression was stern, one eyebrow rising as he waited for her to explain herself.
For one glorious second, Rosalie belonged to the sky.
The earth fell away beneath her, taking the barn, the ground, the house and every sorrow she had carried across its threshold with it. Warm wind rushed beneath her hair, lifting the loose strands from her face with a hurried breath. Her stomach dropped, her heart rose, and somewhere between the roof and the broom racing towards her, she remembered what it felt like to be a teenager, reckless and alive.
There were no tears, no destruction, no quiet half of a bed waiting for someone who wouldn't come. Only the sunset spilling gold across the hills, the wild beat of her pulse and the thrill of knowing that in that moment, nothing else mattered and felt so far away.
Freedom had always felt like this. Even while pricking her fingers in the embroidery factor or scrounging sickles to afford dinner, those things had been hers. Her choices, her will. Every second decided and determined by the whims that pushed her. It was why the struggle had never bothered her. Why having a small, run-down apartment hadn't phased her.
It had never been fancy. It had never been aesthetically pleasing. But it had always been beautiful and exhilarating because it was hers.
The back of her shirt tightened, and then the sky was ripped from her grasp.
Rosalie's body whipped against the conflicting pull of gravity and the rush back to the roof. Her body hit the wooden planks, knocking the air from her lungs in a sharp gust. The sky spun above her for a moment as her brain still tried to catch up between falling and stillness, her heart racing with the adrenaline that had spiked before being denied.
Maddox was there, standing over her, his breath labored and heavy as his gaze forced answers from her with silent questions. A sharp sound expelled from her chest as she tried to catch her breath. She blinked, trying to process what had happened in the split second between flight and crash. Had she crashed, she'd expected to hit the ground, not this disorienting dance.
Finally able to suck in air, the girl sat up, pulling her knees to chest as she gave herself a second. Somewhere below, the broom crashed into the side of the barn, the splintering of wood and its crumble breaking the silence. "I wasn't jumping," Rosie's voice, strained and hoarse from the impact managed. "The broom was going to catch me. It was fine."
She ran her hands through her hair, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She'd have to take the broom to a broom shop now.
baby i'm high octane
Fever In A Shockwave
"I wasn't jumping."
She said while being bring hoisted back to the roof.
"The broom was going to catch me. It was fine."
She said as if he hadn't heard the broom smack into the side of the barn.
Rosalie was doing nothing to help her case. Even the look she sported testified against her. Maddox didn't see a contrite girl who'd come to her senses and realised the danger she'd actually put herself in. He saw a girl whose good time had been cut short and who was disappointed by the turn her evening had taken. Now, she looked at him as if he were the dark cloud rolling into her sky while his heart struggled to retain its natural rhythm.
Children.
With a heavy sigh, he took her by the arm and lifted her to her feet. "The barn is not for jumping from. You're the last one I thought I'd have to explain that to."
That was likely his mistake. He'd witnessed firsthand the devastation that had seen Rosie into their home. In the days that followed, the girl had performed wellness while drifting from room to room trying to disappear into domesticity. She wasn't alright; both he and Julia could see that. For as long as he'd known them, Rosie and Cassian had been...maddeningly inseparable. When she'd gotten better control of herself and had explained their spending some time apart, the man had hardly been able to believe it. In the days that followed, he had no choice but to believe it. McCormick hadn't shown up at the door in the days that followed. She hadn't snuck out for any secret rendezvous while pretending they were adhering to strict boundaries.
This wasn't a small squabble; it wasn't two teenagers being dramatic. A serious rift had appeared or been created or grown, and Rosie wasn't okay.
Not being okay didn't give her either the right or permission to endanger herself and certainly not on the property.
"What's the difference between a few inches?"
She was a smart girl, but he wasn't convinced that she had the answer.
"The barn is not for jumping from. You're the last one I thought I'd have to explain that to."
She was on her feet, the edge of the roof so close she could almost feel the wind against her cheeks again. "I'm sorry," she offered quietly. Did she say she wouldn't do it again? She probably would. Not from his barn of course, now that she'd been caught but from other high places. She could imagine a few here or there, but it wasn't the pressing concern at the moment.
Her face flushed red as Maddox looked at her, the incredulity on his shaming her enough to look away.
"What's the difference between a few inches?"
She just...wanted to empty her mind for a moment or two. She wasn't trying to hurt herself or scare anyone. "I..." she shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, okay," she relented, holding her hands out for a second, "I get it but...Maddox its not a big deal, I promise." She'd never liked being on the bad side of his scrutiny. At school sometimes, a correction from him could feel like a reprimand even if it wasn't.
This was definitely a reprimand.
While it was the first time she'd jumped without a broom in hand, it was far from the first time she'd done anything like this, and not hardly close to being the most dangerous. Six stories, eight stories, and once from the Divination tower when she'd convinced the professor to let her clean up after classes had been dismissed for the day. It was a rush unlike any other. The free-fall before the catch. The moment of weightlessness that made her feel like a bird in flight.
The pounding of her heart that reminded her she was still very much alive.
She paused a moment. Her eyes flicked back to him before looking away again. "I should get the broom." She headed back towards the other end of the barn to start climbing down.
baby i'm high octane
Fever In A Shockwave
"I... Yeah, okay."
That didn't answer his question.
"I get it but...Maddox its not a big deal, I promise."
That didn't answer the question either. He was sure that Rosie understood him. Her body betrayed that understanding in the way it almost seemed to shrink. Maddox wasn't trying to intimidate her, nor was he trying to cow her into agreeing that the roof and her broom had no business together, but he did need her to understand how serious it was, even if she tried to insist it was 'no big deal'. "It is," he corrected. "Bigger than you're currently capable of realising." The man paused, moving toward the edge to look down at the broom that had splintered on impact. His lips dipped into a grimace, the image of the girl being broken replacing it for a moment.
"I asked what the difference was. You said you got it, but you never answered, so I will." He looked back at her. "Death, Rosie. Death is the difference of a few inches. A fright at the last minute, the wind changing the broom's direction, something jumping out to obstruct its path at the last minute, and you could find yourself strung up in St. Mungo's or worse." Coming all the way out to the countryside to end up in danger anyhow – and at her own hands – was not how he intended for her to spend her days.
"I don't think you get it at all. You see the success but either don't or won't see what could come with the failure."
As was the case with many young people. Maddox had found a phenomenon that had been present in himself as well. Before a certain age, especially when you'd escaped as many things as those two had, you started to feel invincible.
Did Rosie?
She might have. He wasn't entirely convinced that she'd swung so far on the pendulum, but he was certain that she wasn't taking her life as seriously as she needed to. Most reasonable individuals wouldn't climb a high barn roof, trying to see how tightly they could coordinate a jump with no failsafes to be seen.
"I should get the broom."
"Leave it."
She wouldn't be needing it for a while.
Maddox nodded her back toward the edge of the barn. "I'll get you down and you'll wait for me there."
"I asked what the difference was. You said you got it, but you never answered, so I will."
Rosie pulled inward, embarrassment - not because of his scolding, but for having earned it - flushing her face. Maddox, despite not being her parent, was someone she didn't want to let down. She'd always worked hard in his classes and the activities he'd run, not just because she was a good student, but because the slightest nod from him, or grumpiest 'good job', went far. She'd always viewed him as a hard authority figure to please - not in the creepy intimidating way some of the other professors tried to carry themselves - but in the way that he expected things to be done well, and correctly. His praise never came easy, so when she received it, it made her whole day.
Letting him down had the opposite affect.
"Death, Rosie. Death is the difference of a few inches. A fright at the last minute, the wind changing the broom's direction, something jumping out to obstruct its path at the last minute, and you could find yourself strung up in St. Mungo's or worse."
It felt a little dramatic, but Rosalie understood. Parents - adults - they always saw the worst outcome in everything. It wouldn't have been a bad fall, she tried to tell herself. Just a painful one. But she'd had a hold on it, and knew she would have made the landing on her broom.
It didn't take away from what he said though, or that she had scared the daylights out of him, and for that, she was sorry.
"I don't think you get it at all. You see the success but either don't or won't see what could come with the failure."
She didn't know what to say. She did get it, logically, but the chemical rush overrode all of the logic, forcing her to lament the loss of what could have just been. Was it a selfish way of thinking? Without her head swimming, she may have been able to see that it was and further, see things clearer from Maddox's view.
As it was, she simply looked away again.
"I'll get you down and you'll wait for me there."
He'd said to leave the broom, almost sharply. Rosie nodded, holding still as she waited for him to levitate her or do whatever it was he was going to do.
"Maddox?" she asked, turning her gaze back to him, her eyes nearly pleading. "You're not gonna tell Julia about this, are you?"
baby i'm high octane
Fever In A Shockwave
He did levitate her down, careful to ensure he hadn't saved her from one catastrophe just to bring her into another.
His heart...had done enough cardio for one day. As a matter of fact, it had done enough for the week. Was he allowed to ground her? Did she count as one of the children or some other subcategory of adult that couldn't technically be sent to her room? He would have to speak to Julia about it; there had to be rules somewhere, and they couldn't have one of the people they were protecting throwing themselves off roofs.
After he got Rosie to the ground, he helped himself down. For a man who liked to spend his time sunbathing up there, he was relieved to be back on the ground. It wasn't that Maddox thought the danger persisted or even that he believed Rosie might try to throw herself off a second time while he was still standing there. His nervous system was simply thankful to no longer be pushed into overdrive. For one horrible moment, his mind had conjured the worst outcome, and it wasn't something he had any interest in seeing in any manner ever again.
Speculation was enough. Having his imagination run wild was more than enough.
Reality and the ground beneath his feet were what he craved.
He started toward the side of the barn where the broom had collided.
"Maddox?"
He paused to look back at her.
"You're not gonna tell Julia about this, are you?"
Well. He was. Had there been a reason not to? She was the other real adult in the country house, and he didn't intend to spend his days following the girl around to ensure she didn't have other brilliant ideas. A lot had happened; he would grant her that. It couldn't have been easy to separate from the boy she'd loved enough to throw away her whole life for. That didn't mean that he could act like any of this was okay.
"It's a strong consideration."
Maddox summoned the pieces of the broom. Not as bad as it had looked from the roof but definitely not in any condition to fly. He clicked his tongue once, shrinking the pieces so he could pocket them.
"Look, Rosie," he said, turning to her again with a sigh. "This...this doesn't look good, regardless of why you did it. Telling Julia isn't punishment; you doing dishes for the next week without magic is. Throw in the leaves in the front yard and the creature care in the barn—but that's neither here nor there. It's because we both care about you and we worry, you understand?" And when you do things that cause others to worry, it's a hard door to close after it's been open."
She was at an age where he hoped she could appreciate that.
Her feet hit the ground with a soft thud, dread flushing her when Maddox said he was considering telling Julia.
It wasn't that Rosie didn't know she was an adult now. She could hardly dread being grounded or restricted, and if worse came to worse, she could always choose to imprison herself at Arundel until Julia calmed down. It was more along the lines that she didn't want to worry her cousin needlessly. Rosie had already noticed the way she watched her, and the last thing she wanted was questions about her mental well-being. She'd already had plenty of those thrown at her when she'd been laid up in Mungo's, and she refused to have anyone think her simple chase for adrenaline meant she wasn't trying to off herself.
Julia liked to catastrophize when it came to her.
"This...this doesn't look good, regardless of why you did it. Telling Julia isn't punishment; you doing dishes for the next week without magic is. Throw in the leaves in the front yard and the creature care in the barn—but that's neither here nor there. It's because we both care about you and we worry, you understand? And when you do things that cause others to worry, it's a hard door to close after it's been open."
"I know it is," she answered. She did, all too well. Sometimes, all she felt like she did was worry. "I really am sorry, I just don't want her getting the wrong ideas. You know how she is with me." Julia was harder on Rosie, worried about Rosie, more than anyone else the girl had ever witnessed. She knew it didn't make it true, and likely Julia's worries were turned more towards her own children these days, but it didn't change how it had always felt to her.
But Maddox said they both cared about her. Both. That meant him too. Rosie felt a shudder of warmth flutter through her, a small smile perking up on her lips as she shuffled awkwardly on her feet. "I understand though." She'd take all the 'punishments', without complaint.
Her eyes raised to meet Maddox's again, her smile having remained as she fussed with her hands behind her back. "Thanks for saying that, by the way." Heat flushed her face, as her smile faltered a little. "That you care. It's nice to know." She cleared her throat as she shrugged and took a deep breath. "Do you need help around the barn right now? I'm not....really doing anything else. Obviously."
If she were to be punished, she supposed it may as well start now.
baby i'm high octane
Fever In A Shockwave
""I really am sorry, I just don't want her getting the wrong ideas. You know how she is with me."
He laughed. It was short and clipped by his own realisation it may not have been the right time, but he laughed. In his opinion, Julia having the wrong idea might have been the least of Rosalie's problems. A husband across the country that she pined after, an impulse that led her onto a roof, the crying he sometimes heard up in the attic,...and she thought Julia's fussing might be the step too far.
Even more... "Julia already has the wrong ideas," he said with a shrug. "And some of the right ones." If Rosie thought they'd put her to bed that night and then taken themselves off to sleep or that the days that followed had been filled with too many children for them to ever find time to discuss her, then she had no idea how large families worked. The children weren't a distraction from each other, and the seemingly insurmountable list of things that needed to get done in any one day didn't make them less attentive.
Julia would worry, but she should.
And then the girl was smiling. Teenage girls really were their own species. He found even Morgan's moods to be less stable than when he'd met her at 11 and dreaded what Kathryn might become in the next year or two should she manage to discover an attitude beneath her reticence.
"Of course," he replied to her gratitude.
Maddox didn't know whether Rosie had ever doubted that or whether it truly deserved gratitude to begin with. It went without saying that he cared for the girl, at the very least to the extent he cared for his other students. Being Julia's family, she'd earned an extra bit of care long before they'd gotten married. Even as friends, they'd always afforded the children in each other's lives more attention than the others that they'd been placed in charge of.
"Do you need help around the barn right now? I'm not....really doing anything else. Obviously."
He almost said no. What a silly mistake that might have been. After zipping onto the roof the way he had, the man didn't think he wanted to muster the energy to finish up—certainly not when he now had an alternative and a babysitter rolled into one.
"Come on, then. I was just finishing up inside the barn. Evander will be happy to help you."
While he graciously supervised from the top of a barrel.
He turned to head back around the barn, a bit of urgency in his steps as his mind reminded him that he had left his toddler surrounded by injured magical creatures. Maddox wasn't worried they would hurt him. For the most part, they were all of an understanding that the little human was not to be harmed and that he required a bit more patience out of them where he was concerned. What worried him was that his son might try to help and in doing so further injure the creatures or himself. Small children, he found, could be far harder to get through to than magical creatures, especially when they had as much energy to burn as his son.
|
