Post by temperance elizabeth fleming on May 12, 2023 23:52:25 GMT -7
I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone
a long, long time ago
March 7, 2028
An out-of-body experience. Temp heard this phrase from many, whether they were former Aurors, Quidditch Players, or writers. But Temperance did not fully understand what those people had meant until that moment. She watched the Healer’s mouth move, and his words barely registered in her brain. “…again, I’m very sorry for your loss.” Absentmindedly she nodded her head. The Healer left the office, leaving Temp inside. He might have said something about letting her have a moment, but she couldn’t be sure.
In fact, without the report in her hand, Temp wasn’t sure the entire exchange had just happened. There were some benefits to her father’s Quidditch status, and this Healer was a fan. Theron Fleming was dead. That part was not new. Theron Fleming was dead, and he’d known it would happen. A wave of guilt, shame, and other things washed over her. How had she fucking missed it? Temp’s eyes welled with anger, frustration, and repressed grief. That fucking man. How could he do this to them? How could a father burden his family—her while he purposefully withered away until his only son found him dead and cold. Temp could almost forgive her father for dying, if only because it unburdened them of him but not for what Eli had gone through. And knowing that sweet and gentle boy, he was probably still going through it.
Fuck. Some terminal illness with some lengthy name Temp already forgotten. But that’s not even what had fucking killed him. Theron’s liver had been on the brink of failure, but all those potions had finally done him in. An overdose. And per the report and some files the Healer had reviewed with Temp, Theron had known about his health for some time and had not bothered to return. Was it not enough that when their mother disappeared, it was like she’d also taken their father? A tear ran down her face, and Temp wiped it away angrily. Why was she crying over this shell of a man that never showed anything but disdain for her?
Somehow she had managed to apparate home without splinching herself for all the thoughts in her head. Shiloh was at Calliope’s again, and Eli was likely with them. Habitually, Temp made her rounds and poked her head into the rooms after entering and setting her purse down. She was alone for the moment, and the house was eerily quiet. Even when their father passed out drunk, you could still hear his snores depending on where he’d dropped. But now? Nothing. It was unsettling enough to give her goosebumps. But while she had this time, Temp pulled the file out of her tiny purse, leaving behind the other massive stack of work files.
She just needed to see the report again.
The words hadn’t changed, not that she expected them to. Again she felt her eyes well up, and angrily she wiped them with her free hand. She didn’t have time to cry. She put the paperwork back in her purse with a slow and steadying breath. That was all the emotion she would allow herself, for now. There was a funeral to plan.
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