February 28, 1894 - Padmore Park

Faustus Prewett

The distance between Mrs. Bagshot's house and Mrs. Longbottom's was hardly worth justifying a carriage ride, especially not when it was so pretty outside. The snow beginning to fall, the crisp cold air hitting her face. Faustus's presense beside her. She hated walking alone these days, the very thought of it set her trembling and so she had spent much less time outside than previously. And yet she longed for the fresh air, especially air that did not hold the stink of London. Besides, it was a quiet moment without the children, something that Faustus and herself had yet to have. Mainly because Malou was loath to be away from the children, and for their part they seemed loathe to be away from her as well.

So here they were, strolling through Padmore Park taking a "short cut" (actually it was more of a long cut, but the excuse was nice enough to take up the phrasing). Everyone had been anxiously speaking of the storm that was anticipating rolling in, but Malou found herself disbelieving them. Instead she let the snow fall of her face as she looked up at the moon. It was certainly falling heavier than it had been when they had left Mrs. Bagshot's but she didn't mind.

"It's beautiful out here." Malou sighed, leaning into Faustus's side as they walked.

  

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With the chaos that had surrounded them last year, Faustus was content to take as much time walking with his wife as needed. There may have been paperwork to do, court proceedings to look over, and time cards to approve, but all of those could wait if he could spend time with Marie. He pulled his wool cloak over his shoulders even tighter, glancing to Marie to make sure she wasn’t shivering. Even with the reassurance and looking at her peaceful appearance, Faustus dipped his head to kiss her on the forehead. “I could think of something more beautiful,” He muttered with a grin on his face. “But yes, it is quite beautiful isn’t it?”

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The warmth of his lips graced her forehead. For a moment Malou wanted to sink into the moment. To let the rest of the world melt away from them, to become untethered from the fears and memories that now plagued her. Her eyes fluttered shut, relishing his nearness.

Faustus's voice was gentle, teasing, deep and kind. Malou opened her eyes and looked at him. "Flatterer." She accused, but still a smile played at her lips. Gently she squeezed his hand, their gloves keeping her from feeling his reassuring warmth beneath her palm.

"Yes. Although perhaps I am fancying it, but it does feel as if perhaps it is getting a bit colder." She rarely felt it was too cold, but in the matter of minutes since they had begun the walk it had felt increasingly cold. As if the temperature was dropping more rapidly then was typical.

  

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“Guilty as charged!” Faustus grinned cheekily at her, raising her hand to kiss her knuckles. Despite the cold weather, a sense of peace had settled over him as they strolled through the park. He was just thinking it was getting more chilly when his wife pointed out the exact same thing. He frowned, gaze directing towards her to give her a once-over. It wasn’t often that she voiced she felt cold; adding to that was a sense that something was about to go amiss. It almost felt…too quiet.

Silently, he gripped her hand harder and tugged her closer. “I’m feeling that too.” he murmured, slowing his steps so that she was slightly ahead of him on the path. He checked over his shoulder, wondering if the sense was from years of watching his back, or being on guard ever since Marie had been taken. “Let’s walk a little faster.”

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Before she would have thought little beyond her husband being over protective as he tugged her closer then placed himself behind her, as if protecting her. But that before in the after it sent her on alert, her entire body tensing, curling in on itself, her breathe tightening in her chest. Panic glided up her spine and her eyes widened as she too turned to search in the dark for whatever it was her husband saw. "What do you see?" She hated that her words trembled, that she listened to his urgings and started walking faster, keeping herself close to Faustus at the same time. The final shred of innocence for the harsh reality of the world had melted away in that before.

  

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The unevenness in his wife’s question wrenched at Faustus’ heart. He knew that the kidnapping had taken its toll on her, and had done everything in his power to protect her after that; but having worked as long as he did with as many people in the DMLE, Faustus knew that the things that haunted people were not easily tamed. Marie was strong, of that he was certain; it was one of the things that had made him fall in love with her in the first place. But ghosts of the past had nothing to do with the degree of strength one held.

He hated to frighten Marie, but there was something in the air that didn’t quite feel right to Faustus. And by now he knew it was instinct and not an overabundance of caution.

After a whispered spell under his breath, he could at least breath a half-sigh of relief. “No one is following us my love,” He murmured, his voice steady. “I just have a sense that something mig —” He was immediately cut off mid-sentence as a gust of wind flew into them. His immediate thought was to steady Marie - meaning the direct effect saw him hurled off the path and into the nearest tree trunk.

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Her shoulders relaxed at his reassurance but then his words were cut off by an icy blast of wind. It pushed at Malou's dress and cloak, catching the fabric, she fell backward into Faustus. Or would have. Faustus wasn't there anymore, she landed in the snow flat on her back, eyes wide. In only a moment she was twisting around squinting through the dark.

"Faustus? Faustus?" Each echo of his name held more panic. Where was he? She pushed her hands over her eyes to sheild them and squinted forward, crawling a few steps in the snow when it proved she wouldn't be able to stand up with the constant wind pushing at her. "Faustus!" She spotted his clock and him crumpled in it against a tree. Half stumbling, half crawling through the snow Malou reached her husband, reaching out to see how injured he was.

  

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The snow falling was biting at his cheeks - as good as a slap across the face, except it felt more like a thousand paper cuts across his skin. Opening his eyes, he was only met with a white canvas as his entire body seemed to reverberate with pain; mostly gathering around his lower back. Faustus’ entire world was spinning and he felt a thrum in the air; a thrumming that felt an awful lot like magic gone wrong. But…Marie. Where was Marie?

His eyes managed to focus as he searched for her in the blistering wind. There, stumbling her way towards him, fighting as hard as she could against the howling snow falling around them. What in Merlin’s name had happened for the weather to act like this? It wasn’t a kidnapper, but Faustus wasn’t sure how easy it would be to get them out of this and safely home. He tried to call to his wife, but a groan only escaped from his lips as he tried to sit up.

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Panic began to flood through Malou's veins at Faustus's groan as he tried to sit up but only crumpled back down. No. She couldn't panic. She had to find a calm place, still her mind. She dealt with this every day, it was no different. And yet... she hadn't seen Faustus injured since she had been gone. Hadn't seen him weak and needing since then. She had no idea what she would do if that were the case. "Faustus?" Her voice wavered with emotion, tears of fear beginning to fill her eyes as the wind howled and grabbed at them freezing them across her lips. If there was a tone of panic in her voice she wasn't aware of it as her hands sought his body, searched through his layers of clothes in her woolen gloves, desperately trying to figure out what was wrong with her husband. "Faustus?" This time there was definitely a note of panic in her voice as Malou's emotions began to spiral. "Tell me where." She couldn't find it, couldn't feel it in these bloody gloves. She began to angrily strip the gloves from her hands, the wind tore at them trying to pull them away and her fingers instantly went numb. Tears were streaking down her cheeks now as the wind pulled them forth and them froze them. Panic and fear spiraled in her mind and Malou could see no way this could have a happy ending.

  

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Pain crackled down his spine as he tried to move. He could hear his wife’s voice, panicked as she crawled closer. “Marie,” he grunted through gritted teeth. Sparks flew through through his vision; he blinked rapidly and was finally able to see her through the howling storm. He could feel the cold of the snow seeping through his clothes, which told him nothing critical had been affected still, every attempt to move felt as if someone had placed a two ton weight on his legs. “I can’t move,” he breathed, reaching out to grip her hand. “Are - are you alright?” Her eyes were glassy, tears streaking down her face. Something in him fractured a bit, knowing she was panicking and there was nothing he could do to stop it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

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Dimly she was aware of the words he said, I can't move, aware of his question, aware of his apologies. But she couldn't make her mind think, couldn't process what was going on. Instead she was cold, the dark was closing in on her again, memories threatening to overtake her until her mind was blank with spiraling fear that held no words, only images and raw emotion.

"I can't." She croaked, not entirely sure what she couldn't, just that she couldn't. She crawled closer to him, needing the reassurance that he was there. "I can't." She repeated again, the words torn and broken from her lips.

  

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He saw the instant it happened. When something in his wife’s gaze shifted and suddenly she wasn’t there with him anymore. She was in the dark, trapped and unable to move, with him and Fallon miles away, desperately searching for her. “Marie,” He tried saying her name, but it wasn’t enough to pull her from the depths of her mind. He had to do something. His heart was racing in his chest but try as he might, he couldn’t move his legs.

The only thing he could do was use all his upper body strength to haul himself towards her. Her beautiful features were frozen in terror, staring into a space he couldn’t see nor reach. His hands came up to cradle her face. “Marie,” he said again, his thumbs rubbing against her skin in a feeble attempt to warm her up. There was no getting warm anywhere in this place. “Marie darling, I’m here. You’re safe, I’m here.”

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Ice cold fingers spread from Malou's chest, wrapping her from the inside out in a cold that had nothing to do with the storm around them. She was ice and darkness. A creature that knew only fear, that froze in its grip, that huddled forgotten to the end of its days.

Dimly she felt warmth caress her jaw line, felt Faustus's hands, knew he was there. She stared at him, but her mind saw nothing. "I can't." The words came out a despairing cry and she burrowed down in herself, chin burrowing into her cloak, eyes closing. "Faustus." He was there, she knew it, but she couldn't make her body recognize it. "I can't." Panic settled into her fully but Faustus...

With an effort Malou looked up at him, she barely saw him, but she tried. "I don't know what to do." The words broke from her in a sob.

  

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When he found out what the hell had caused this blizzard, Faustus was going to rain down armageddon. He could feel the terror and helplessness rolling off his wife in waves. It crashed into him, fracturing his heart as he desperately tried to figure out what to do. She looked like she wanted to cave into herself, just to make it all go away. He thought about cradling her in his arms and aparating, but could only remember how at the Sanditon people were killed for doing exactly that. What if he apparated them away and killed them both?

No - he was just going to have to figure out how to make sure they would both make it out alive.

Reaching for his wand, Faustus tried several atmospheric charms, but nothing seemed to work. There was only so much he could do too - the wind bit against his fingers, freezing them to the handle of his wand until he felt like he couldn’t feel them anymore. Even warming charms didn’t seem to do much against the raging blizzard. Faustus stowed his wand away in the pocket under his coat lapel. By now, little by little he was able to feel some sensations in his lower body. He knew he could move his feet inside his boots; it just felt as if something was sitting on them and wouldn’t let up.

It was better than paralyzation.

“Hold on, Marie,” He murmured, using all his strength to try and pull himself forward, towards her. After what felt like an eternity, he’d gathered her in his arms and tucked her close, wrapping his cloak around her to try and shield her from the worst of the wind. “I’m here.” He kept saying. “I’m here.”

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There was something warm against her, it was dark again, but there was heat, and someone. She could feel the pulse of Faustus's heart as he held her head against his chest. Tears soaked into the wool of his coat. "You don't understand." She croaked at last, "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help you." Her voice broke on the word help. She was a useless wretch. It would have been better if they had never found her at all. If her uncle's men had left her to rot and she'd .... she couldn't think the word. Instead she squeezed her eyes shut as she drew shuttering breath after shuttering breath.

  

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