FICLET: Helpless (Katie/Angelina)
Jul. 16th, 2009 09:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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rarepair_shortsTitle: Helpless
Pairing: Katie/Angelina
Prompt: slander
Rating: PG
Word Count: 719
Summary: "And she's just a girl," he said quietly, so that Angelina had to lean in close to listen.
Author's Notes: It's a very fine line, here, between pity and disgust, and I hope I wrote it well enough so you don't hate Angelina too much here.
Link to Prompt Table: Here.
Angelina watched nervously as George ordered yet another drink. She should have said something a long time ago, but she didn't. George was crying. Not heavy sobs, just tiny teardrops sliding gently down his freckled cheeks, shining like fallen stars in the overhead lights of the Leaky Cauldron.
"And if I'd only been there," he said, leaning heavily on the bar, "maybe I could have done something. I could have stopped it." He'd said this three times already.
She touched him briefly, a comforting pat on the shoulder. "These things happen so quickly," she said, again. "He probably never even saw it coming."
"But I wasn't even there," he said loudly, slamming a fist down onto the counter. "I didn't say goodbye."
"We never do," Angelina replied softly, taking a careful sip of her own drink.
"He loved you," said George, and Angelina felt her stomach tighten. "He was going to marry you, after the war. He told me."
"Oh, and my opinion wasn't going to count for anything?"
"Who's going to do it now that Fred's gone?" George asked, resting his head on one hand, the side without an ear. "I've been trying so hard to be both of us, but it's just not the same anymore. It's not the same. I've lost my echo, Angie. I've lost my -- ." He breaks off, lifting his head, scratching the spot where the ear is missing. "I've lost my ear. Fred was like my ear; the only one who ever listened to me. It was an omen, Angel, and we missed it. We completely missed it. I wasn't even there when he died."
"Please, don't call me Angel." Angelina sighed heavily and looked around, hoping for an escape. She couldn't just leave now, not when George was such a mess, and she couldn't see anyone in the bar that could be trusted to help the mourning Weasley. She was trapped. "Look, we really should be going. I'm really sorry, George, but I just don't think drinking is going to help matters. I miss Fred, too, but this isn't healthy."
"How could you possibly miss Fred, you said yourself you were too busy shagging Katie Bell." George narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer; Angelina's eyes widened. "It's not fair, you and Katie. Where's our happy ending? What are we supposed to do?"
Her expression softened, and Angelina took hold of George's arm, hauling him off his stool. "I'm taking you home," she said firmly, using a nonverbal spell to lift him slightly off the floor, making him easier to support. "You need a good sleep."
"And who is Katie, anyway? Some little blonde tease; she doesn't even have a job," George muttered, leaning upon Angelina and allowing her to lead him. "I could support you, you know. The shop's doing so well."
Angelina bit her lip and said nothing, eyes lowered as she carried George out the door and into the back courtyard, where she tapped her wand upon the bricks to get into Diagon Alley. He wasn't in his right mind, she told herself, though her insides squirmed at the way he spoke about Katie. If he'd been sober, she would have hexed the hell out of him, but as it was, she felt too guilty. She walked with him slowly through the streets, looking pointedly away as he cried quietly into his robes.
"I wasn't even there," he said tiredly as Angelina helped him up the stairs, heading for the flat he kept above the shop. "I would've told him; I would've promised. I'd live for him. I do live for him, but I wasn't even there to say goodbye."
Angelina lay him down upon the bed and pulled off his shoes, sighing heavily as George rambled on about death. It wasn’t right, she thought, to be put upon like this, to be the symbol of loss for a man without his mirror, and again she felt trapped, helpless, looking down upon the redhead as his eyes fluttered closed.
"And she's just a girl," he said quietly, so that Angelina had to lean in close to listen. "You need a proper man, for the ending, the happy ending. He wanted it that way."
Angelina touched his forehead and shook her head sadly before going home to Katie.
Pairing: Katie/Angelina
Prompt: slander
Rating: PG
Word Count: 719
Summary: "And she's just a girl," he said quietly, so that Angelina had to lean in close to listen.
Author's Notes: It's a very fine line, here, between pity and disgust, and I hope I wrote it well enough so you don't hate Angelina too much here.
Link to Prompt Table: Here.
Angelina watched nervously as George ordered yet another drink. She should have said something a long time ago, but she didn't. George was crying. Not heavy sobs, just tiny teardrops sliding gently down his freckled cheeks, shining like fallen stars in the overhead lights of the Leaky Cauldron.
"And if I'd only been there," he said, leaning heavily on the bar, "maybe I could have done something. I could have stopped it." He'd said this three times already.
She touched him briefly, a comforting pat on the shoulder. "These things happen so quickly," she said, again. "He probably never even saw it coming."
"But I wasn't even there," he said loudly, slamming a fist down onto the counter. "I didn't say goodbye."
"We never do," Angelina replied softly, taking a careful sip of her own drink.
"He loved you," said George, and Angelina felt her stomach tighten. "He was going to marry you, after the war. He told me."
"Oh, and my opinion wasn't going to count for anything?"
"Who's going to do it now that Fred's gone?" George asked, resting his head on one hand, the side without an ear. "I've been trying so hard to be both of us, but it's just not the same anymore. It's not the same. I've lost my echo, Angie. I've lost my -- ." He breaks off, lifting his head, scratching the spot where the ear is missing. "I've lost my ear. Fred was like my ear; the only one who ever listened to me. It was an omen, Angel, and we missed it. We completely missed it. I wasn't even there when he died."
"Please, don't call me Angel." Angelina sighed heavily and looked around, hoping for an escape. She couldn't just leave now, not when George was such a mess, and she couldn't see anyone in the bar that could be trusted to help the mourning Weasley. She was trapped. "Look, we really should be going. I'm really sorry, George, but I just don't think drinking is going to help matters. I miss Fred, too, but this isn't healthy."
"How could you possibly miss Fred, you said yourself you were too busy shagging Katie Bell." George narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer; Angelina's eyes widened. "It's not fair, you and Katie. Where's our happy ending? What are we supposed to do?"
Her expression softened, and Angelina took hold of George's arm, hauling him off his stool. "I'm taking you home," she said firmly, using a nonverbal spell to lift him slightly off the floor, making him easier to support. "You need a good sleep."
"And who is Katie, anyway? Some little blonde tease; she doesn't even have a job," George muttered, leaning upon Angelina and allowing her to lead him. "I could support you, you know. The shop's doing so well."
Angelina bit her lip and said nothing, eyes lowered as she carried George out the door and into the back courtyard, where she tapped her wand upon the bricks to get into Diagon Alley. He wasn't in his right mind, she told herself, though her insides squirmed at the way he spoke about Katie. If he'd been sober, she would have hexed the hell out of him, but as it was, she felt too guilty. She walked with him slowly through the streets, looking pointedly away as he cried quietly into his robes.
"I wasn't even there," he said tiredly as Angelina helped him up the stairs, heading for the flat he kept above the shop. "I would've told him; I would've promised. I'd live for him. I do live for him, but I wasn't even there to say goodbye."
Angelina lay him down upon the bed and pulled off his shoes, sighing heavily as George rambled on about death. It wasn’t right, she thought, to be put upon like this, to be the symbol of loss for a man without his mirror, and again she felt trapped, helpless, looking down upon the redhead as his eyes fluttered closed.
"And she's just a girl," he said quietly, so that Angelina had to lean in close to listen. "You need a proper man, for the ending, the happy ending. He wanted it that way."
Angelina touched his forehead and shook her head sadly before going home to Katie.
