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Therapy; Constance
Topic Started: Sep 16 2009, 05:00 PM (632 Views)
Richard Donnohan
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Chapter One, Richard
"No, they wouldn't. They couldn't." Richard was so sure of himself. He knew in his mind that there was no way that the Dementors could touch him. They'd already done so much to ruin his life, why go ahead and waste those efforts just to kill him in the end? In a time when nothing was guaranteed, Richard was sure of one thing. He knew that he should have left. God, there were so many times she told him to leave but he just couldn't leave her like that. Not and call himself human. And it wasn't that he felt sorry for her - this wasn't the case at all. He just knew that it was what he was meant to do. All of this seemed fated to him. Even as he wrapped his arms around her, Richard expected her to pull away from him, maybe run away or slap him or something. But she didn't. For a moment, her tiny frame froze, but it was only moments before she collapsed into him. Richard felt his heart ache, and he pulled her ever closer, but made sure he wasn't hurting her. A gentle hand rubbed her back as she sobbed against him, and even though it hurt him to hear this, he didn't dare hush her. "We can't change the past, Constance. You don't know how badly I wish I could, for the both of us. For everyone. Your family loved you-" She looked up at him for a moment, but he couldn't look back down at her. Not right then at least.

"I'm sorry," she said, but Richard wouldn't have it. "No," he told her. "Don't." "I'm... I haven't... You're the first person." Richard just nodded. She didn't have to spell it out for him, because it was the same for the Lion as well. He hadn't even mentioned his loss to a damn soul at Hogwarts, not even his own best mates. And he didn't know if he ever would. "Don't let go." This caught him by surprise, and it took him a moment to fully register what she had said. Don't let go. He responded by giving her a gentle squeeze. She must have been just as taken aback by her own statement as he was, because she began to wipe her eyes and get ready to pull away. "Sorry." He didn't understand why she was apologizing. Out of all people she had nothing to be sorry for. "I'm just... I don't know how to do this." But then he understood. He didn't know how, but he knew that if he could be strong now, he could be strong whenever he needed to. "This is why I tell people to leave." She kept wiping at her eyes, and soon Richard reached out and took both of her tiny hands in one of his, and with the thumb of his other wiped away a few stray tears she had missed. Her apologetic look made him truly sad, and he wanted to just wipe it clean off her face. "I'm not leaving. I don't know how many times I have to tell you. And you have nothing to be sorry for. So stop with that, okay?" he asked, offering a small smile in return. "It's pathetic." Even through her smile he could see her tears again.

"I don't see what's pathetic about missing your family," he told her softly, looking down at her hands. "No one expects you to be perfectly okay." Once more, he wrapped his arms around her frame, resting his head against hers. In a soft voice just next to her ear, he whispered only three words: "Don't let go."
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Constance Bennett
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During the weeks following the death of her family, Constance had found she didn't know how to accept comfort without breaking down. One word had the power to send her tumbling over the edge. For someone who'd usually held control over their own actions, it was frightening. All of a sudden, one of Hogwarts' social queens didn't know how to behave in society. She couldn't be seen like that, so she did what she had to do. She began to fade herself into the woodwork. People commented on the change in the beginning, but now it was almost normal. It would be normal, if she could stop herself from looking so miserable. At this point in time, that certainly wasn't possible. It hurt to live, and it was all she could do to muster up the will to get out of bed day after day. And now she'd broken apart in the arms of a young Lion. Thrusting her damned emotions on him was wrong, but his hand on her back soothed her more than he could possibly know. And for once, no one told her to hush or dry her tears. He let her do as she pleased, and she was more than grateful for it. She wanted to bring her parents back. She wanted William, Matthew and little Bess to fill the gaping hole in her chest. She didn't know how to handle herself with that space there. It hurt so much. Other students had started going out again as if partying would solve their problems. She couldn't be like that. It didn't feel right. But Richard's arms around her... everything felt better. Was it him, or was it the comfort? She glanced up at him, but he wasn't looking back down at her. Just as well. She was willing to bet she looked awful.

"No. Don't." It just made her want to cry more. She had so much to apologize for. Maybe if she'd been a better person, her family would still be alive. Why did it have to be hers? "Don't let go." She shouldn't have said that, and she didn't deserve the gentle squeeze he gave her in return. He stirred up butterflies in her stomach when he took hold of her hands and wiped the rest of her face. "I'm not leaving. I don't know how many times I have to tell you. And you have nothing to be sorry for. So stop with that, okay?" She drew in a shaky breath and shook her head. She had so much to be sorry for. She was sorry she wasn't there to die with them, to suffer as they suffered. Half of the time, it didn't seem right to be alive. "I should have been with them." Blinking back more tears so he wouldn't have to wipe them away, she stared at their hands. Why hadn't he let go yet? "I don't see what's pathetic about missing your family. No one expects you to be perfectly okay." Missing your family. God, she missed them. Constance quickly squeezed her eyes shut, but more tears managed to leak out of them anyway. As if he could sense she was going to break again, he put his arms around her, moving his head close to hers. Over the sound of her own weak sobs, she heard him speak.

"Don't let go."

Her breath caught in her throat. Without another word, her arms tightened around him, keeping him close. "I won't," She managed to say a moment later, her speech impaired by her clenched throat. "I'll... try." She wanted to tell him that she'd almost let go before, that if her roommates hadn't come back early from a night out, she might have tried to end her own life. He was strong, far stronger than her. Whimpering pathetically, she tried to speak again. "I don't know what to do without them." More images flashed in front of her eyes. "I need them to come back." Her head pressed against his shoulder as her eyes squeezed shut once more. "I need them." As she took in the faint scent of his cologne, she began to wonder if she needed something else. Maybe she needed him, too.
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Richard Donnohan
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Chapter One, Richard
"I'm not leaving. I don't know how many times I have to tell you. And you have nothing to be sorry for. So stop with that, okay?" Richard told her, but still she shook her head. He let out a soft sigh, but he had not given up yet. All he could really do was wait for her to stop apologizing, since it seemed she was in the habit now. Yet he didn't mind as much as he would have with anyone else. There were probably a hundred things she could do that he wouldn't care as long as it was her. The past months had changed Richard, and while most people would only notice them on a minuscule level, it was only the tip of the iceberg. Even if he might cling to her former self, one day his mask would wear away, and he would be left there, stripped. It was quiet for a moment, but then she spoke, her words slicing through him, sharper than even the finest blades. "I should have been with them." Instantly Richard froze, his mind jarring before reeling back to that same old clip he had tried so hard to burn away. Patrick's stormy gray eyes narrowing as he searched through the crowd, scanning the faces of children until Richard finally caught his attention, before they were tragically separated. The younger boy's breath caught in his throat as his father slammed him against the wall, his face turning red as he demanded an explanation, and finally the slamming of the front door, marking the last time that Auror William Donnohan would ever be seen alive by his family.

This is all your fault. His mother's words echoed through him and it took him a moment to regain himself, to bottle all of this up. He was a bit better at hiding than Constance was, but he knew with a wave of grief that it would only come back later and hit him harder, and even harder the next time. He didn't know what he would do when it became too much, but he could only hope he would learn how to cope with it by then. As Richard held Constance closer, he screwed his eyes shut in hopes of forgetting it that much sooner. "Don't let go." There wasn't a moment's pause before she wrapped her arms more tightly around him, keeping him just as close as he was for her. It gave him a bit of comfort, but not enough to make him forget again. He wondered for a moment, if someone were to put their two hearts together, would there be enough left to make a whole one again? "I won't," she told him finally. "I'll... try." He only nodded to this, as his throat was closing just as well, and he didn't want her to hear his struggle. Not when she was dealing with her own. "I don't know what to do without them. I need them to come back. I need them." Richard didn't know what he needed. He couldn't return to his old life, he didn't think that it would welcome him back as easily as it would for Constance. Her family probably wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with them, but it wasn't the case with Richard. After Patrick, his family had blown up, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but broken hearts and shattered glass.

"I know," he told her gruffly. "You keep living, Constance. You don't just give up, but you live in their memory. You don't have to forget them," he tried to explain to her, but felt almost distant from his words. As if someone else was saying them to him, instead of the other way around. "Or else they will have died for nothing." Like Patrick. You survived while your own flesh and blood did not. You should have stayed with him. You're no son of mine. I have no sons anymore.
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Constance Bennett
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Constance had always been a bit self-centered, and that bit of her nature still hung over from the days before everything had gone to hell. She'd caught a glimpse in Richard's eyes that said he was hurting, but then she'd crashed and fell apart, and she'd forgotten about anything but the feel of a pair of arms holding her together. That shouldn't have been his task, but she'd pushed away the thought of moving. For just a moment, it felt like someone cared, and that set off a small spark that made her want to keep going. During the past few weeks, she'd almost become convinced that if she disappeared, no one would notice she'd gone. The thought hurt. All her friends had given up on her, and she didn't have any family now. "I don't know what to do without them. I need them to come back. I need them." God, he must be thinking she was pathetic, but she was hurting. If he let go before she was ready, she'd fall apart again and no one would bother to put her back together. "I know." His voice sounded different, and she raised her head slightly to glance up at his face while he spoke. "You keep living, Constance. You don't just give up, but you live in their memory. You don't have to forget them, or else they will have died for nothing." She took her eyes away from him again, feeling her heart sink. You keep living. Merlin knew she didn't want to. Not like this.

She nodded slightly while her thoughts moved to something else. She really didn't know how to survive on her own. She was thankful that the school year had only begun and she could stay during all the breaks, but she wasn't sure where she was going to go during the summer. But that wasn't something she would tell him, or anyone else. It was too humiliating. And... they'd been standing together so intimately for quite a few minutes now, and they barely knew each other. Sniffling a bit and wiping the stray tears from her face, Constance reluctantly took a step back, feeling awkward. It wasn't a feeling she was used to, and she didn't like it. Then again, she wasn't used to feeling depressed or lost either. "I..." She pulled on one of her sleeves slightly, telling herself she was only straightening it out and not missing the warmth his body had given her. "I should be going. I don't -" She didn't what? It'd hardly be polite to tell him she didn't want to be close to him because she didn't want to feel like this again. The silence was incredibly suffocating. Someone had to say something. "... thank you." It came out slightly mumbled, only because she was feeling shy. She'd let him in on a very personal moment, and she wasn't sure why. It left her vulnerable. She lifted her eyes to meet his, unsure of what he was thinking. There was the beginning of more. Richard Donnohan. Merlin, she couldn't think of him like that. He'd be torn away from her, and she'd be lost.
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Richard Donnohan
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Chapter One, Richard
"You keep living, Constance. You don't just give up, but you live in their memory. You don't have to forget them, or else they will have died for nothing."

Richard could have been selfish. He could have talked about his family, and his problems. He was used to being the selfish one, who only really looked after himself. But something about seeing Constance like she was silenced him, no matter how badly it hurt to talk about her problems, instead of venting his own. Then again, Richard wasn't entirely sure that he was quite ready to talk. He had started out by nearly demanding that Constance speak to him. He had wanted answers. Yet now that he was here, and the opportunity somewhat presented itself, he simply couldn't. Richard knew that it was the right time. He didn't understand why, all he knew was that it wasn't time. Not for him, anyway. He was sure that people would ask, having heard his brother's name called on the Wireless, and he was sure that he would shrug it off, or simply say something funny to get out of it. But he wouldn't talk. No, not yet. He couldn't.

She must have just come to her senses or something, because Constance sniffled and pulled away from him. Richard didn't hold on, but he retracted his arms and folded them across his chest as he took a half step, just close enough to lean on the table. "I..." There were a hundred things he imagined that she would say here, but to his surprise, not a single of his guess were right. Pulling on her sleeves, she added, "I should be going. I don't -" But then she stopped. There was something in her tone that made him feel uneasy. What was that feeling, deep in the pit of his stomach? Could it possibly be that for the first time in a very long time, Richard actually felt... rejected? Though he hadn't exactly asked her to the Spring Formal, Richard had never been turned down by a girl. But this didn't feel like that kind of rejection. It was something else, something so much deeper. And he didn't like it. There was a silence, one that he found that he couldn't fill, nor did he desire to. His grey eyes stared at his shoes for a moment, before looking back up at her. "... thank you." Taking a deep breath, Richard hesitated before replying. "You're welcome," he told her, almost flatly. But his eyes reflected the sincerity, and he knew it wasn't something she would miss. "I'll see you later then."

Remaining silent - something he wasn't exactly famous for doing - he looked at the door before turning back. She said she should be going, but why did she wait? Richard could feel a hundred emotions that he wouldn't show bubbling up to the surface as he thought of her walking out those doors, but his face remained somber and somewhat empty. He wasn't blind, he could tell she was regretting it. Or at least that's what his logical mind told him. But he didn't leave first.
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Constance Bennett
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"You're welcome." The tone of his voice almost made her wince. For a moment, she wasn't sure if he was frustrated with her or not. She didn't want him to be - that seemed to be the last thing she wanted. One glance at his eyes told her he felt differently; at least, that's what she thought she saw in his eyes. Maybe it was something she wanted to see. And she shouldn't have been thinking that way. Get a hold of yourself, Constance. You know what will happen. She hadn't been able to make herself smile since the incident, and now was no different. She nodded slightly before following his glance to the door. She didn't really want to leave, but it was for his good as well as hers, wasn't it? If they weren't close to each other, they wouldn't have anyone to lose, and they wouldn't be hurting like they clearly were now. "I'll see you later then." She nodded again, and felt compelled to speak once more, still feeling awkward after their separation. "I hope so." It contradicted everything she was meant to be saying, but it needed to be said, didn't it? And she wanted to say it. She wanted to see him again, as bad as it was for both of them.

Now was the time to leave. Her eyes moved toward the door and back to him. She didn't want to leave yet. She was an idiot saying things she didn't mean. Instead of stepping toward the door, she stepped toward him, reaching out to touch one of his hands. She opened her mouth to speak, glanced up at him, and saw her brother William instead of him. Swallowing hard, she released his hand, nodded once and quickly headed for the door, hating herself for every step, for touching his hand in the first place. What was wrong with her? When would she be normal again?
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