CONTENT WARNING: explicit mention of suicidal ideation

April 7th, 1892 - Muggle London

A year ago today, Cash thought seriously about killing himself.

Actually, a year ago, he had woken up with a dementor in his room. The other part was incidental, or it was supposed to be — but sometimes it seemed like the main point. He'd chosen to want to live, and then eventually he had wanted to live, and now — he was doing better, he thought. Not always, but most days. He'd survived Valeria's death. He had — for some value of had — Theo. He had some friends. He was actually, probably, going to get married.

He was looking at a pop-up museum of spirit photography with Ford today, not because either of them believed in spirit photography but because this was the sort of thing Cash and Ford did when they didn't want to be in Black's. Cash didn't want to be in Black's today, although he felt neutrally — felt that he felt neutrally — about the kind-of-anniversary. Did Ford remember it?

He squinted at a 'photo' of a child-ghost that looked elaborately faked, like the muggle photos of fairies. "How do you tell someone bad news?" Cash asked.

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Fortitude Greengrass

  

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Of course Ford remembered that today was the anniversary of the dementor incident. He might have forgotten the exact date, except that he'd thought about it a few weeks ago and started worrying about Cash and done the math to find out when the anniversary was. If there was something significant about this time of year or this particular date that had sparked the dementor in the first place, it might mean that Cash was particularly vulnerable now. He seemed to be doing better, in general, but that didn't mean he was really better, or that he couldn't slip back into how he'd been feeling a year ago. They hadn't ever talked about exactly when Swan had died. Four years ago last year, five years ago now, but Ford didn't know the date. What if today was the anniversary of that, too?

So he'd been keeping an eye on Cash throughout the evening, but so far he hadn't seen any signs that something was amiss. Certainly no dementors hanging around in the corners of the room.

"I hope this is a hypothetical and not a request for practical advice, because I don't think I'm very good at it," he replied with a shrug. Most of the bad news that he delivered fell under the umbrella of things they couldn't afford, and his way of delivering it was mostly to just not. Sometimes the girls forgot they'd asked for things if he put them off long enough, or they changed their minds and wanted something else. Sometimes he just kept making excuses until his next paycheck came through. "Look at this one — her hand is a different shade than her face. That's a sign they used face paint to make her look pale," he said. "They forgot to paint her hand. Probably didn't think it would be in the picture."

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Set by Lady!

"I like to think I'd remember the hand if I was publishing ghost photography," Cash offered; painting the hand felt like amateur hour.

He sighed. "I was asking for advice," Cash admitted, "Although I don't think I expected much." He was never going to be fully comfortable telling Theo about this, because he was never going to actually be comfortable with it himself.

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"I'm flattered," Ford said, pulling a face. This was in response to Cash's comment about not expecting much, but it was said with little sincerity; Ford had no particular illusions that he was in a position to give good advice on this front, nor had he ever pretended he had. He examined the photo for any other little tricks he could point out to Cash — glints of wires or reflections or traces of makeup — but didn't see much of interest. "Anyway. I think the way you do it depends on who you're telling. And how much it's going to surprise them."

Telling Noble there's no money was such a non-surprise it barely even qualified as bad news anymore; it was just a fact of life that occurred semi-regularly between Ford's cheques from the Ministry.

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Cash hummed. He leaned in to squint at a photo of a so-called ghost child - and gestured for Ford's attention. "A wire, I think," he said. "My father always sends a note. When there's bad news. Or calls people into his office, but that's — rarer." Thank Merlin. Cash had spent more time in Lucius' office in the last several months than he wanted to; which was to say, he'd spent any time at all there.

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Ford shot Cash a sideways glance at that comment. "Well, that sounds like the worst way," he said with a shrug. Of course, that was a matter of perspective. Obviously Mr. Lestrange thought it was suitable for his purposes. It was probably the most efficient; sending a note meant not dealing with any of the emotional fallout of the news. It was the least kind. Lucius Lestrange's preference for efficiency over kindness was hardly the only way in which he differed dramatically from Fortitude Greengrass.

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Cash grinned, a little crooked. "Well, that's why I asked," he said, "I don't exactly have anyone emotionally intelligent to learn from."

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   Fortitude Greengrass

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Ford cracked a small smile at the implied compliment. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat and ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth.

"I usually don't tell people unless I'm sure they need to know. If it's nothing I can fix myself," he replied. "Then if I have to, I try to think through how it will impact them before, so I can think of what they might say."

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Cash bit his inner lip. "Does thinking through what they'll say — does it help?" he asked. He wasn't sure it would be any help, in this case — Theo was going to be upset, and there was already so much unsaid between them. How was he supposed to prevent this from ending things?

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Ford considered. "I think so. If you can think through everything they'll say you can think about how to respond. It's harder to accidentally say something you don't mean that way." He tucked his hands into his pockets and pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek briefly. "I usually still do," he admitted. "But I guess there's no avoiding it entirely."

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Cash nodded. "I'll see what I can come up with," he said. He dreaded it. Theo deserved better. But he also deserved the truth, and Cash could give him that — eventually.

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