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Therapy; Constance
Topic Started: Sep 16 2009, 05:00 PM (633 Views)
Richard Donnohan
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Chapter One, Richard
As Richard looked up at his new school, this 'Patronus Academy', he started to wonder what he was even doing here. The Dark Force wasn't going to stop with Hogwarts. Ever Richard knew it was the people they were after, not the buildings themselves. But this school was supposed to have higher protection, it was supposed to be safer than Hogwarts could have ever dreamed of. Richard remembered his first day at Hogwarts, how he had been so excited to join that Quidditch team, to play on the same side as his brother. Patrick. He had looked up to him possibly even more than he had looked up to his father, and Richard could still see Pat's face, gleaming with pride as he raced after the the Quaffle. But another image flashed through the blonde's mind, and he screwed his eyes shut, trying to forget the last time he had seen Patrick. That was a memory that he worked so far to forget, to leave at the school that he had fled. His mum and dad had pressed and pressed for him to tell them what happened, but Richard couldn't speak about it. He could hardly even think about it, and soon his fists were clenched. Today was a hard day to forget, and he soon found himself reliving the terrible memory. Patrick's stunned face as the students began running past him, his eyes searching for Richard. People were screaming, crying, shouting. Some were frightened, others were looking for friends or siblings. Amidst all of the shouting, the younger Donnohan managed to find the elder one. Their grey eyes met and they both rushed forward, shoving against the dissipating crowd. Patrick always looked out for him, no matter how much in danger he was and this was no exception. As the jet of light came towards them-

Richard bent over and lost his stomach behind the bushes. This time the memory had been so fresh and sharp and so damn clear. He'd seen death that night, more than he ever thought he would. Gruesome deaths and quick deaths; he'd even seen souls being sucked out of children, their bodies falling to the ground, limp. Richard looked around as he wiped the bile from the corner of his mouth, and seeing no one he moved into the greenhouses. Feeling disgusted with himself, he quickly located a water hose to rinse out his mouth with. He even rubbed a bit of the cold water on his face, as if to wash away the memory. While he missed his friends, he was glad Hunter and Damon hadn't been around to see him like this. Richard wiped his face, attempting to dry it off. His chest ached like it did whenever he was remembering, whenever he ouldn't just forget. Some students had it easy. Over half of the kids who got out, only a few had actually seen the wizards and Dementors responsible. And then hearing Patrick's name on the list of the students who had still not been found.. Hearing the door swing shut, Richard instinctively ducked - he wasn't sure if students were allowed in here or not. But as he looked up, it was someone he wasn't expecting. Her name was Constance, and she'd lost her family to a group of rogue Dementors before the Hogwarts attack. He remembered feeling sorry for her, and for the looks she got in the hallways. Back then he could have never imagined losing a family member to something like the Dementors, but now that he had lost not only his brother, but his father as well, he didn't feel so sorry anymore. In fact he felt bad for pitying her, and not only that but he knew why she acted like she did. Before, the had been popular, just like he had. Now he wanted to do just what she had done - he wanted to cut himself away from everyone, to cut his own heart out.

She didn't noticed him at first, but then he stood up straight and their eyes locked. As he looked into her eyes, he could see that same gut-wretching pain, that same lack of spirit he fought so hard. But he couldn't hide it. Not now. Not after Patrick. Not after his father. Richard's grey eyes gazed into hers through those long yellow lashes of his, and he wondered if she would run away from him, like she ran away from everyone else.
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Constance Bennett
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For what felt like the hundredth time, Constance turned down an invitation to one of the parties in the nearby town. From what she could understand, some people felt the need to celebrate being alive, something she didn't want to be. It had all been torn away from her; couldn't they see she wasn't the same person? She wanted to be left alone so she could grieve for her family in peace, so she could figure out how to grieve. Who did you talk to about this sort of thing? Once upon a time, she might have talked to Mother about it, but Mother wasn't around now, was she? She was dead. Dead, just like Father and William and Matthew and Elizabeth, sweet little Elizabeth... It hurt to think about all of them, but she forced herself to, just so she could feel that pain. It wasn't fair for her to be the only one left alive. William and Matthew had each graduated from school and had just begun to live that high-class society life they'd been raised for. Little Bess had only just begun to live. She was supposed to be attending Hogwarts next year. Constance swallowed hard, trying to keep her face blank. Poor little Bess. And Mother and Father... it wasn't fair for them to leave her so alone. A friend of the family had taken her in while they decided what to do with her. Lawyers were pouring over the Will and the Estate. It would all go to her, of course. It better, or what else would she do? She needed to survive somehow. But first, she needed the will, something that was so hard to muster when all she could hear was the sounds of the dementors getting closer, the sound of little Bess screaming in her ears -

Constance's dark eyes snapped toward the group of students heading in her direction. They hadn't spotted her yet, but she could spot dark-haired Joseph among them. He had been especially concerned for her, and that was something she couldn't deal with right now. It was all beginning to hurt again, and she felt the need to cry. She needed to get away. The greenhouses were conveniently located nearby and she ducked into one, taking a shaky breath as soon as she heard the door click behind her. When she turned, she wasn't expecting to see anyone, but there he was. Richard Donnohan. He and his brother had been two of the golden boys back at Hogwarts, hadn't they? Their eyes met only for a moment before she tore her gaze away, turning her head to the side. It was one of the first times she'd really looked at anyone since it all happened, and the overwhelming feeling of vulnerability was almost too much to bear. Her first instinct was to turn and walk out of the greenhouse, to find another spot of security. But there was that look in his eyes, the same look that helplessly stared back at her whenever she looked into a mirror. He had lost someone too. Nearly everyone had, she supposed, but a selfish little voice suggested no one would ever really know her pain. Instead of leaving, she took a few steps toward a row of plants, reaching out narrow fingers to touch one. The leaves began to curl lightly around her fingers and her eyes flickered dully in recognition. A baby Devil's Snare. She felt as though one was choking her from the inside out.

The silence had lingered for several moments now, long enough to be considered uncomfortable. Not taking her eyes from the plant moving over her fingers, she broke it, knowing he would be waiting for her to do so. "I was expecting the greenhouses to be empty." If she left her fingers in the plant's grasp for too long, could it do her harm? Perhaps she would find out. "Not many students show an interest in Herbology this early in the year." The soft tone of her voice suggested she knew he was here for other reasons, reasons that might apply to her as well. They both needed to get away, to isolate themselves from people who didn't understand their pain. And in her mind, nobody understood.
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Richard Donnohan
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Chapter One, Richard
Before his adventure outside, it had been a long day to say the least. He'd thought that since he'd be away from the house and from his mum, Richard would have less reminders of his dad and Patrick, but he thought of them even more. Especially Patrick. There was just something not right about everything that was going on, especially his brother. One minute he had been leading the way and the next he had gone, nowhere in sight. Richard had spent his morning at the Quidditch Pitch, flying around. It seemed to be the only thing to get his mind off of the attacks, and he often found himself doing whatever he could to forget. Remembering was too hard, especially when he remembered how great his life had been. Patrick, the most popular bloke in school, someone everyone looked up to. Quidditch Captain, Head Boy. Everything. And now he was gone. Not to mention their father - he'd been so upset when Patrick hadn't come home. What he said still chilled Richard to the bone. "I lost both of my sons that night." How could he have said such a thing? Sure he was angry and upset, but still... Before Richard had a chance to clear things up, his father was killed as well.

It was so hard not to thinking about these things, especially when Constance entered the Greenhouses. She always seemed to disappear whenever she didn't want to be found - it was something he had noticed about her before. Whenever Constance didn't want to be found, she wasn't. The girl took a few steps forward, which surprised Richard. He had expected her to just walk right back out. Her fingers slipped into the baby Devil's Snare plant, and Richard made his way around to the opposite side of the table. "I was expecting the greenhouses to be empty." "As was I," he admitted truthfully. "Not many students show an interest in Herbology this early in the year." Richard nodded, a sad ghost of a smile gracing his face for a few fleeting moments. Richard had never shown an interest in Herbology. He rarely even showed up for class. But this year there had been a rumor that it would be combined with Care of Magical Creatures, another class he did not particularly enjoy. "Not many students show an interest in Herbology at all, but you'd still be surprised who you find in here sometimes," he replied, and looked back up at her. They were so different as people, but he was starting to get the feeling that they had more in common than either of them knew. The row of Devil's Snare reached over to him, and he too found his fingers winding in the soft leaves that were hardly strong enough to grip his finger.

That was what he felt like - trying to hard to hold on to his life as it once was, but realized himself unable to find the strength. But Constance had lost her whole family, and Richard still had his mum. One last person to cling to, but neither of them spoke at all. They would soon become strangers at this rate. "Is this why you hide?" he asked after a small moment of silence, looking back up at her with that same expression on his face. Because that was all Richard wanted to do. To hide away.
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Constance Bennett
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Constance hadn't wanted to look at him. She'd specifically moved away so he wasn't in her line of vision. Before... everything... she hadn't been a shy person, not in the slightest. She had been one of Hogwarts' social queens, ruling the hallways and stealing the spotlight at social events. Never had she been uncomfortable meeting someone's gaze. In fact, that was something she'd always done with pride. Now she was skirting away from anyone that came close, keeping everyone at arm's distance and avoiding any sort of attention that came her way. At first, no one had understood. Why wasn't Constance Bennett coming to the latest formal? So her family was dead - so what? No, no one understood and she didn't want to explain herself to the people that had been interested in trying to understand. She had pushed everyone away on purpose. It wasn't that she didn't want comforting. She was terribly lonely now. She was afraid of losing someone again, of feeling the same undying pain she was feeling now. The world felt so dark sometimes, so cold, like it had felt when the dementors breached the halls of Hogwarts. If someone hadn't grabbed her and gotten her out of there, out of harm's way, she would have cowered against the wall and succumbed to a dementor's deadly kiss. In a way, she was bitter about being alive. Why, after everything, had she been left alive? She didn't want to be spared so she could be left alone in a world that held little meaning for her, and that was the destiny that Fate had chosen for her.

When Richard moved around to the other side of the table, her eyes stubbornly stared at the plant twirling its way around her fingers. He could talk all he liked, but it had to stay just talking; she couldn't get involved with anyone. Not as friends, not as lovers, not as acquaintances. It had to be this way. Why had he sought the solitude of the greenhouses? It hadn't occurred to her before, but perhaps he was waiting for someone else to arrive. Most likely; he had been that pretty-eyed player, hadn't he? They had been at the same social events, but he hadn't ever snared her, or vice versa. But with that look on his face, it seemed unlikely he had been waiting for some quick fun with a pair of pretty eyes and wandering hands. She didn't know, and what did she care? She had her own set of misery to concern herself with. "Not many students show an interest in Herbology at all, but you'd still be surprised who you find in here sometimes." She saw him look up at her out of the corner of her eye, but her gaze remained firmly on the plant. "Mmm. I wouldn't know." Let him think she wasn't interested in his company at all. Let him think she was a cold-hearted bitch who wasn't worth his time, who wanted to be left alone. "Is this why you hide?" Her entire body froze up. She didn't need to look up to know he was asking her this. He'd gone through something, and now he wanted to know how she was handling it, and she wasn't. She was the worse person to ask because she was so pathetically miserable, and she couldn't make herself do anything about it.

For a long moment, she stood frozen with her fingers wound up by the plant, the same plant that held his hands. No, he couldn't ask her this. "I'm not the right person for... this." She muttered, untangling her fingers and taking a few steps away before turning her back on him and wrapping her arms around herself. She hadn't been eating properly - she couldn't keep anything down - and it was beginning to take a toll on her skinny frame. "I can't... talk about this." With a shake of her head, she tightened her grip on herself. Merlin, it all felt like it was going dark again. The screams, the screams, the never-ending screams were filling her ears, and she felt cold. "You'd better leave." He'd better, before she broke down. If there was any mercy left in the world, he would walk out so she could collapse in on herself in peace. She was frozen where she stood. "Find your friends. Talk with them. Don't... not with me." She swallowed hard, trying to make her voice a little stronger. "Leave." Don't see me like this.
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Richard Donnohan
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Chapter One, Richard
Richard remember Constance before her family had been taken. She was a socialite, a spotlight stealer. Though Richard had never gotten intertwined in her little group, he had dated several of her 'friends', and had been just as much of a social butterfly. He was popular, just like his older brother. Maybe even more so, but Patrick was always older, always better. Just like every time he thought about his older brother, a jolt of pain went through his heart. Today had been a bad day, he hadn't been able to get the attack out of his mind. He had gone into the Greenhouses to escape, to get away from it all. Richard could even still feel the bile in his throat as his stomach knotted. But there wasn't anything else to throw up this time. As Richard moved around, he noticed how Constance's eyes never looked up again, as if she were willing herself not to meet his eyes. He understood, but at the same time he wanted so badly to talk, he wanted to talk to someone who understood. He hadn't been able to think about telling Damon or Hunter, but why did he want so badly for this girl to open up to him? Or at least not shut him out.

"Is this why you hide?" Richard's question had been completely sincere. He felt the desire to hide his feeling, to hide himself from the world. To cut off all ties between him and his friends. That had actually been his plan - finish school and then get the hell out. But he knew that would only tear him apart even more. Constance's reaction was instant. She froze up, and Richard could see the fear. How he knew he would react if someone asked him how his father was, how his brother was. "I'm not the right person for... this." She had no idea how right she was for this. Richard didn't want to let this consume him as it was already doing. He wanted to tear the ache right from his body and cast it aside, and he wanted to do this so badly that he would do anything. The girl turned around, putting her back to him. As her skinny arms wrapped around herself, he noticed that she was entirely too thin. Had she always been that skinny? "I can't... talk about this. You'd better leave." What? Richard felt it, a cold hardness in his stomach that made his fists clench. He was torn between empathy for her and anger. She wasn't the only damn person in the world suffering! The idea of searching for Damon and Hunter just to talk about his feelings made him want to wretch again. That was when he made up his mind.

"Leave."

"No," he replied, his voice just as pathetic as hers had been. "Not until you tell me." With a shaky wave of his wand, he locked it from the inside, so that no one could get in. One could easier get out of the greenhouses, as the only way to lock it was from the inside, but he wasn't going to let someone interrupt this. Moving around the table, he took a few hesitant steps towards her, but not too close. "Talk to me."
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Constance Bennett
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Richard might not have wanted the emotional pain to consume him, but Constance felt it was already too late. She couldn't eat anymore; couldn't sleep. The nightmares came frequently, and waking up shivering and alone only weakened you further. After the attack on her family, she'd spent the next few days wanting to lie curled up in bed. But she had to arrange the funerals and see to the will and endure the looks and stares and pity. The pity was the worst. It came from people who thought they understood but really didn't, never really could. At least now that the lives of the Hogwarts students had been turned upside down, she wasn't the only one with a loss, the society queen turned freak show. The attack on Hogwarts had allowed her to melt into the crowd, to blend in and be an ordinary face among the grieving students. Even though everyone around her was hurting, she still felt like no one understood her loss. No one wanted to. They were too concerned with themselves, she thought selfishly, and they hadn't cared to begin with. And now Richard was beginning to ask questions she didn't want to answer, didn't even want to think about. She'd finally begun to feel like she'd gotten the bouts of crying and depression out of her way, and this boy was going to bring them all back to the forefront of her troubled mind. She didn't want to think anymore. She didn't want to exist.

"Leave." "No." The tone of his made her want to be the one who walked away. He shouldn't be acting like this around her. She was a terrible, horrible person. She couldn't offer comfort. He had real friends, didn't he? They would be able to comfort him properly, offer him the support he needed. Constance didn't really know Richard at all, apart from their society faces, and this situation just proved there was more underneath those pretty masks. What she couldn't understand was why he was here, talking to her, when there were so many other people who sought help and sought to help. She'd deemed herself worthless by now; what more could she do than mourn her loss? "Not until you tell me." What could he possibly want to know? The sound of the door locking wasn't enough to make her turn around. He wouldn't attack her and even if he did... well, it wasn't as though anyone was going to miss her now. "Talk to me." Couldn't he see that she couldn't? That she didn't know how? Her arms tightened around her skinny frame, hugging herself close, holding herself together so she wouldn't crumble to pieces. That crucial breaking point was close, but she couldn't break in front of him.

What could she say to him? She swallowed hard. The silence was threatening to suffocate her. Her arms couldn't pull themselves tighter around her body. "You didn't want to talk to me when my family..." That, she couldn't finish. She left it implied. "No one wanted to." She didn't turn to face him, and her voice was quiet - she half hoped that he wouldn't be able to hear her. Maybe he would think her cold and callous and leave, like he should. She didn't want him to, but she really couldn't grow close to anyone again. It would hurt too much when they were taken away from her, and she couldn't go through that again. "You have friends." Her voice was beginning to shake, and she swallowed hard again, forcing air through a throat that was beginning to squeeze itself shut. "Go to them. They know what you want. I don't. I can't... help anyone." An overwhelming wave of guilt and grief washed over her, and she squeezed her eyes shut. The screams - the cold - it was coming back. "There's nothing I can do." She hadn't been able to help them. She'd done nothing. "Just... go." It came out as a whisper. "Please." If he didn't leave now, he'd see, and he couldn't. She was hurting so much, and she couldn't let anyone see. That was why she tried to disappear - so no one would know just how vulnerable she really was.
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Richard Donnohan
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Chapter One, Richard
"You didn't want to talk to me when my family..." Richard swallowed hard, knowing just how hard it would have been to finish that statement. But it still cut him. No, he hadn't tried to talk to her. Why should he? She ignored everyone, shunned her closest friends. She became a recluse. Richard was still on top of the world, only worrying about the next Quidditch match and how many girls he'd score at the afterparty. "No one wanted to." Richard shook his head. "Would you have spoken to anyone? Don't lie to me and say you would have opened up then." He took another step closer, but still kept his distance. Her back was to him, but that didn't matter. Something told him to stay, and he wasn't leaving until he knew why. "You have friends." Yes, he did. But he couldn't talk to them any more than she had been able to talk to hers. How could he? They hadn't known what he had. Hunter still had his Ally and Damon... well, he still had whatever kept him going. Richard didn't. He'd lost... everything. "Go to them. They know what you want. I don't. I can't... help anyone." Her voice was beginning to shake, and Richard felt that pang again, that pain that cut him to the bone. "There's nothing I can do." "That's where you're wrong," he told her, his voice gruff and distant. "

"Just... go. Please." He was torn. Half of him heard the plea in her voice, and knew that he should go. But the other half knew that he had to stay. He couldn't become what he knew he would, and he knew that would happen if he left. So what could he do? Richard's feet couldn't move, and he felt frozen, watching Constance collapse in on herself. He knew that was what was going on inside of him, but he was as helpless to stop it as she was. "I'm not going to leave you. Don't you understand that? I'm not going to just leave and act like everything is okay when it's not. Why can't you see that?"
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Constance Bennett
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""Would you have spoken to anyone? Don't lie to me and say you would have opened up then." She should have never come in here. She should have faced Joseph and the rest of them instead of trying to avoid them like she'd been doing the past few weeks. Perhaps they would have ignored her without trying. She hadn't exactly been accommodating to company, especially sympathy. She didn't know how to handle it without falling apart, and pride wouldn't let her do that. "How do you talk?" It was meant to be a rhetorical question, and if she had more courage, she would have phrased it more like "How do you talk about death?". "You can't talk about... things like that." She didn't know how. It was easier to push people away then fall apart among them, especially when she didn't trust them enough to put her back together again. Constance didn't expect that Richard talked either, but at least he had real people who wanted to listen. Her friends... well, once she'd expressed her unwillingness to continue to be the popular girl, they'd fallen off to flock around new people. Perhaps she'd eventually fall back into her old habits. Fridays and Saturdays at the local clubs, dancing, drinking, new people, new boys. Stories to tell the next day over a late brunch before going out and doing it all again. And she'd been the center of that, but only once upon a time. That story was over now.

"There's nothing I can do." "That's where you're wrong."

"I don't understand," She said miserably, frustrated with their current situation. She couldn't keep herself together, and that should have been obvious to him. How could she help him when she was useless to everyone? Useless... the tears threatened to spill over as the pain clamped down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe as he spoke again. "I'm not going to leave you. Don't you understand that?" She stiffened, her arms tightening around herself. What was he saying? "I'm not going to just leave and act like everything is okay when it's not. Why can't you see that?" A frightening silence followed. He couldn't mean what he'd said. Not to her. "That's not true." Her head turned slightly in his direction, though she didn't look up to face him yet, her voice shaking badly. "They take everyone." They would take him, if she let him in. She couldn't, for his sake. "They'd take you." For the first time, she willingly raised her eyes to meet his, and was surprised by the pain she saw reflected in his gaze. And that's when it began to spill out. "I can still hear Bess screaming." She'd made herself completely vulnerable to Richard, and she didn't know how to pull back now, didn't know how to slow the storm of tears that had suddenly begun to cascade down her cheeks. "When it's dark, and there's no one there... I hear her, Richard. She's screaming and I can't-" Her throat tightened, and she couldn't speak. Her head turned away and she swallowed, trying to regain some hold on herself, but she couldn't. She couldn't do anything. Without another word, she took a step away from Richard, pressing her hand to her mouth as the sobs became more audible. No, this was wrong. She had to hide the pain away, but even as she tried, she knew it was useless. She needed someone, someone who understood, but it felt like more than that now.

She needed him and she didn't know how to say it. She couldn't.
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Richard Donnohan
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Chapter One, Richard
"How do you talk?" she asked, but Richard didn't answer. He had been wondering this himself, but he knew that he would find a way if he was given the chance. If Constance would only give him the chance. Isn't that how people healed? He saw what was happening to his mother, how she was slowly dying away, but poisoning everyone around her before she went. Like Richard. Because she never talked. She just stayed in her damn glass house and put on a show, writing to him and telling him not to come home. "You can't talk about... things like that." Richard took one more step closer and stopped there, knowing that he had already crossed enough lines for the day. "You can. I promise, you can," he assured her, and truly believed what he said. Richard never said anything and didn't mean it, it just wasn't the way he did things. Like Constance, he'd been the party boy. Hitting on all of the pretty girls, though not in a way that would cause them to look down on him. He was a Quidditch player since his second year, a damn good one. He'd been to every party in the Gryffindor Common Room since he was twelve. He wasn't called 'Playboy' by his closest friend for nothing. But, like Constance, Richard was starting to get the feeling that this was all over for him. He didn't want that life any more than he wanted to jump off a cliff; while it would be welcome, it just wasn't going to happen. So far he had tried so damn hard to pretend it wasn't so, to pretend he was the exact same. But he wasn't.

"I don't understand," she said miserably, and Richard shook his head. He didn't know why he'd said that, it had just came to him. None of this had been planned, not since the moment he'd come in here looking for a place to hide. "I'm not going to leave you. Don't you understand that? I'm not going to just leave and act like everything is okay when it's not. Why can't you see that?" Silence fell as the meaning of his words dawned on both of them. "That's not true." But it was true, even if she didn't want to believe it. Constance turned towards him slightly, and he caught sight of that tragically beautiful face of hers, but he still couldn't see her eyes. "They take everyone. They'd take you." Once more, Richard head shook. This was something he'd thought as well, thoughts that had instilled fear in him also. "No, they wouldn't. They couldn't," Richard said, emotion thickening his voice. Then she looked up into his eyes, and he could see her. Her pain, her sorrow, her grief. He could see himself in her eyes, reflecting back at him like a mirror. She was breaking apart. Tears fell down her face, and Richard fought to keep them out of his eyes as well. "I can still hear Bess screaming." The statement struck him like an arrow, but he didn't say a word. "When it's dark, and there's no one there... I hear her, Richard. She's screaming and I can't-" she cut off, and took a step away from him, and he could hear her sobs now, and see them racking against her frail torso.

Finally, he could help it. Richard moved forward, pulling her closer to him. She was smaller than he thought she would be, and he got the impression that if he applied any kind of force she would simply break in half. "We can't change the past, Constance," he said after a moment. "You don't know how badly I wish I could, for the both of us. For everyone." Richard's voice wavered here, and he had to pause. "Your family loved you-" he said, and his voice caught here. He couldn't go on. Her family loved her. Richard thought of his father's last words to him, and his mother's orders not to come home and suddenly he was fighting, too. But somehow, it was Constance, who was falling apart as well, that kept him from completely crashing.
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Constance Bennett
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"You can. I promise, you can." Constance just shook her head in response. He was getting closer, both physically and psychologically, but he shouldn't have been making promises to her, not when she wasn't worth them. Constance had struggled to talk during the funerals. It had been her duty to say something, as sole survivor of the family and she'd given the eulogies as best she could, but she didn't know what to say when people came up to her afterward and told her things would be okay. It was easy for them to say. They hadn't had their entire world ripped away from them. She had one year to find someone to survive with until her birthday, and then she would be an adult. Part of the money from the will would be used to pay the rest of her tuition for Hogwarts and then... she didn't know. She'd drift until she found a meager job or a husband that could provide for her. It wasn't something she wanted to think about now, but what choice did she have? She couldn't muster up the willpower to consider surviving on her own. Perhaps later on she'd be able to find a bit more hope, but not now. Richard was still here. Why hadn't he gone yet? Everyone else had left her by now. A tiny part of her didn't want him gone, but that part of her was easily suppressed for the moment. He had to go now, of his own free will, so he wouldn't be taken from her later on, ripped away like the dementors had ripped away Bess and Matthew and William. No, she couldn't think about them.

"No, they wouldn't. They couldn't." Constance merely shook her head, trying and failing to keep back the tears. "They would," She insisted quietly. Fear of the dementors had persuaded her into believing there was no stopping them. And then the tears started, and she was a wreck. Once again, she expected him to leave, and once again, Richard Donnohan surprised her. One moment, she was standing by herself, feeling the last piece of herself slip past her fingertips, and the next, she was in a strong pair of arms. For a few seconds she froze up, unsure of how to react, but it wasn't long before she collapsed into him, her arms pulling him in tight as her fingers clung to his shirt. Her own pathetic choking sobs filled the silence before he spoke, and she tried her best to calm herself and listen to him. "We can't change the past, Constance. You don't know how badly I wish I could, for the both of us. For everyone." She lifted her tear-stained face from his chest to look up at him as he spoke. God, Richard. She couldn't even remember who he'd lost. "Your family loved you-" Her eyes spilled over again, but even as she pressed her head back into his chest, she didn't miss the catch in his voice. Merlin, she was so selfish. "I'm sorry," She whispered quietly, unsure of what to say, but unwilling to not say anything. "I'm... I haven't... You're the first person." Hopefully that would be enough for him to understand. She was grateful he was here holding her, letting her cry. She just couldn't say it.

The sound of his heartbeat was filling her ears. "Don't let go." That, she hadn't meant to say either, and that was crossing the line. She lifted her head and wiped at her eyes, ready to take a step back if it'd been too much for him. "Sorry." Merlin, couldn't she stop crying for one moment? "I'm just... I don't know how to do this." How do I cope, without them? Here she was, little girl lost, and the poor boy was stuck looking at her. She wiped at her eyes again, frustrated the tears wouldn't stop coming. "This is why I tell people to leave." Another sniffle, and she gave him an apologetic look. She really was sorry he had to see this. "It's pathetic." A weak attempt at a smile, and she was ready to dissolve into tears again. God, she was a wreck.
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