April 18th, 1891 - Angie's Flat, London

On the bright side, if Angie killed him, he didn't have to actually fix his head and his life. This was about as far as Cash got in terms of optimism re: how this was going to go. He wasn't sure how much he could lie to her — this was why he'd been putting off the conversation for a week and a half — and he certainly couldn't tell her the whole truth, and he didn't want to freak her out and trap her into staying in Scotland, either.

But he couldn't get away with avoiding her forever without her freaking out, either.

He hadn't told her he was coming, but if she was home her floo would be unlocked, and — if it wasn't, he could just send her a note in their shared journal. He'd walked to one of the places with a floo point in muggle London and took the floo point — he could not very well say Angie's address in Black's — and was almost a little disappointed when her floo was open and he arrived in her flat in a rush of green flames.

"It's me, Angie," Cash called, stepping out of it.

This was probably going to be the most difficult conversation he'd had about it so far, but Cash had a feeling it wasn't the most exhausting thing he'd have to do in terms of actually trying to get better.

---

Angie Swan @"Elsie Beauregard"

  

---

MJ made this!

Angie was curled up in bed making some notes about how she was going to handle Rowan's pearl predicament. She planned to pay the shop a visit later this week on her day off and bully the owners like they had to Ro, a taste of their own medicine from a petite woman would be a delightful first taste of revenge.

And speaking of friends needing her at random times, she thought she heard the floo light up, and sure enough there was Cash's voice coming from the living room. "In my room." She called, closing up her notebook and sitting up straighter in her bed. This room had once been Eli's, but when Ang had found herself ready for we new roommate, she hadn't been prepared for someone else to be in his room, so she'd moved her things in and let the other one. There was still a small box of his things under her bed that she couldn't bear to part with, but other than that, it was hers.

---

The following 1 user Likes Angie Swan's post:1 user Likes Angie Swan's post
   Cassius Lestrange

---

If she was in her room she was in her bed, and so Cash stepped out of his shoes and walked over to her door. He paused for a second outside it — once he was in there, he was going to have to start talking about this, and he still didn't know how — but now that he was here it was unavoidable, so he sighed and turned the handle and stepped in.

This had been Eli's room, once, but Cash's recognition of it was limited, so it didn't cause any real emotional reaction for him now. He sat on the other side of Angie's bed and turned towards her before he said anything.

"Something weird happened," Cash said.

---

  

---

MJ made this!

The moment she saw him, she knew something was off. Angie could tell just by looking at him.

Aw shit.

She watched him carefully as he sat down beside her in bed, turning both her body and her full attention on him. He had a talent for showing up when she was indecently dressed, but he had to expect it by now. "What's wrong?" She asked gently. Something about his demeanor told her to tread carefully. Angie had a lot of practice in knowing when and when not to push Cash. Fortunately, their friendship was on a level where there was rarely things he didn't want to tell her.

---

  

---

self harm cw?

Cash turned towards her, letting his posture slouch and ignoring that she wasn't really dressed, and that she had notes with her. He didn't know where to start. He had only let his thinking carry him this far: to the point where he found her and she knew something was wrong with him. So he tried to cut off any concerns before she raised them, and said, "I'm not going to hurt myself. It's just — you were right, when you got back, and you knew I wasn't actually better. You were right."

---

  

---

MJ made this!

Angie made a mental note to cancel her upcoming assignment. Somebody else could have it. Clearly her stay in London was going to be a bit longer than anticipated. It was fine, the new guy was chomping at the bit to go somewhere warm anyway.

She half-believed him when he tried to assure her that he was beyond any self-harm, but Ang knew him, knew how deep the hurt went. She had only been able to heal the raw edges (but never the gaping hole in her heart) by running away from everything; he didn't have that luxury. At least she was in a good spot now to stick around for a little while longer, to try and shoulder some of this— any of this, for him. She'd take it all if she could, but she just didn't know how.

"I know, Love," She reached out to brush her fingers along his cheek, running her thumb along his jaw, eyes concentrated on his, looking for anything in those familiar baby blues.

---

  

---

Cash draped one arm over her torso; they had always been casually touchy people, and this was essentially the one room in Britain where he could get away with it. He didn't want to tell her. He knew that if he was going to get better he needed to tell people, at least a little, because — well, mostly because he needed people to keep an eye on him. But Angie was the person who knew him best, who had the most context, and she was the one person he could never lie to, even if he didn't bother with lying to anyone most of the time.

The confession itched. She was going to be disappointed, he was pretty sure.

"It's just — I ran into a — weird Spirit Division thing," Cash said, because he could not say dementor, even if it was Angie. "And it reminded me that — or it made me think that — sometimes I want to. But I'm not going to."

---

  

---

MJ made this!

Angie tucked herself under his chin and snuggled in, curling her fingers into his shirt gently. It was truly a wonder that nobody ever questioned them having an affair. The thought was laughable to them, but if anybody were to ever see them, it would raise questions, she was sure.

It was a good thing she did, as the shock registered on her face before she could mask it— at least he couldn't see it this way. She subconsciously tightened her grip on him, concerned about where this conversation was going. A few possibilities turned over in her mind, a couple easily dismissed and another needed both more information and some research. "Thank you for telling me," She managed, trying to keep a tight hold on her own emotions, knowing it probably hadn't been easy to tell her.

"What was it exactly? Do you need anything from me?" He had to know she would go to the ends of the Earth for him, had the resources and the know-how to do it, not to mention the sheer determination to keep him with her by any means necessary.

---

  

---

suicide cw

He didn't want to tell her for the same reason as he hadn't wanted to tell Gallivan — Angie knew too much about dark magic for Cash to brush her off, and if she thought he was going to pop another dementor into existence, then she was never going to let him leave this apartment and this bed. He pressed his face against the top of her head and inhaled the smell of her hair, familiar and safe. Maybe he could skip over it.

"I need you to tell me if I get worse," Cash said after a beat. It was the same thing he'd said when he was talking to Gallivan — he thought that if he did get worse, maybe he wouldn't notice. Or maybe he would want to hide it.

There was something else he wanted to ask her for, although he couldn't bring himself to right now. He wanted to ask her to forgive him, if he left. But he knew that she couldn't, and he wasn't thinking directly of that exit, and — he wanted to live, still.

---

  

---

MJ made this!

That's it, she was taking a desk job for the bank. Maybe she'd have to look into something at the ministry that could keep her occupied. Something local, as clearly she'd need to be keeping a closer eye on him. It was fine, she could handle it. He was more important than her career after all. Certainly there had to be department at the ministry that could keep her interested. She would start looking into it tomorrow. Maybe she could speak with her supervisors about having to stay local and only take short trips, no more crazy intercontinental travel.

"Dinner, my place, weekly, you pick the night." She countered. If she was going to watch him, she was going to need to see him. She tightened her grip on him subconsciously, snuggling in as close as she possibly could.

---

  

---

If Cash kept agreeing to do things, then he was just going to have to keep doing things, and — he supposed that was the point, wasn't it? Damn. He closed his eyes and focused, for a second, on the familiar smell of her hair. "Thursdays," Cash said, "It might be harder once the season starts, but until then — Thursday."

---

  

---

MJ made this!

"Alright, Thursdays it is, for now" She agreed, watching Ash join them on the bed, the large fluffy cat making her presence known and demanding of snuggles. It was a regular cuddle puddle at this point. "I'll think of something to cook." Angie was no master chef, but she could hold her own after living by herself and traveling for so long. Clearly she'd have to get better at it too.

Angie sighed softly and snuggled in again, adjusting for the cat this time. "I love you." She reminded him.

---

  

---

"I know," Cash said, closing his eyes as the cat settled in with them. He could fall asleep here for a few hours, couldn't he? "I love you too."

---

  

---

MJ made this!