August 30th, 1890 - St, Mungo's
early evening - @'Fallon Abernathy'

What do you want? 'Cause you've been keeping me awake
Are you here to distract me so I make a big mistake?
Or are you someone out there who's a little bit like me?
Who knows deep down I'm not where I'm meant to be?
Every day's a little harder as I feel your power grow
Don't you know there's part of me that longs to go
Into the unknown?

His impromptu meeting with Miss Skovgaard had been interrupted with the news of Miss Abernathy's arrival and an overwhelming sense of relief had washed over him immediately, however, it felt incredibly out of place to follow the young healer to her friend's bedside, so Jess had hung back, spoken to the other ministry officials and gotten some information on the case, but not too much. He'd had every intention of hanging around for a while while things settled, but he'd been summoned out and therefore been forced to wait until the workday was done.

Jess had headed home to clean up, change out of his ministry robes and eat something quickly before heading back to the hospital. On the way he passed a flower cart and purchased a small bouquet of daffodils and daisies, trying not to overthink his arrival. It would be a surprise, he was sure, but he also wasn't sure if Miss Skovgaard had mentioned anything either. He'd mentioned taking responsibility for breaking their anonymity under the circumstances, which he still would, but now he was a little nervous about it too. Silly really, as they'd already met and he knew what she looked like now, but at the time they hadn't known who the other was.

Skirting around propriety, Jess had sort of slipped down the hall, remembering the room number from earlier today, knocking on the partially-open door hesitantly. "Miss Abernathy?" He questioned before even daring to poke his head in.

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After a long day of being poked by the healers and questioned by the ministry officials, Fallon was grateful for a minufs alone. Seven days and eight nights of struggling to survive left her bone weary and a confused mess of emotions. Lachlan was alive as far as she knew, which may have no longer been accurate, but Fallon was going with he was alive until someone said otherwise. Somehow or another, they made it, and now all there was left to do was figure out what next.

The thick layer of blankets covering her might have appeared obscene to some, but Fallon refused to be parted with any of them. She was warm, almost borderline hot, for the first time in a week. Should someone dare question why she required a sweltering amount of blankets Fallon wouldn't hesitate to tell them to go bury themselves under an avalanche. Perhaps then they'd know what it was like to suffer from frostbitten fingers and toes.

She had just begun to doze off when a knock at the door woke her. Always a light sleeper, Fallon was awake instantly and shifted into a seating position. "Yes?" She called back, fully expecting another round of ministry questions.

  

It wasn't exactly an invitation in, but Jess took it anyway, pushing open the door, bouquet in hand. He was greeted by an amusing sight, Miss Abernathy wrapped up in several layers of blankets, despite the August heat.The chuckle that escaped was unintentional, but he couldn't help it.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to intrude," He had, but he supposed his presence wasn't all that important at the moment either. "And I can come back later," He'd already done it once and would again if necessary. "But you weren't answering my letters and now I know why." His expression was a mix of a charming smile and sympathy, but concern lingered behind his eyes. He was relieved to see her home and alive at least.

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The man who walked in wasn't the ministry official she was expecting, but rather Jesse Hatchitt, or as Fallon knew him JP. It was yet another shock to learn the man she'd spoken to with briefly at the quidditch match was the same man she'd exchanged countless letters with. However, the easy flow of conversation they had that day made more sense now, even if the match felt as though it happened in another life.

"No, no, come in, please," she sat up straighter in the bed (adamantly ignoring the painful stretch of her still-stiff limbs) and gestured towards the chair Malou had vacated not too long ago. "I'm ah...sorry to have disappeared like that." Not that she could have controlled it, but the apology was there nevertheless. "And to have alarned you."

Fallon took in his appearance and the flowers. Merlin, why had they kept the letters anonymous when he was as handsome as he was? "It wasn't for a lack of trying."

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   Jesse Hatchitt

Taking the offered seat, Jess placed the flowers on the nearby table before sitting all the way down. He made himself somewhat comfortable, feeling rather at ease, which was odd, considering the rather unconventional nature of their relationship. "Clearly it wasn't your fault." Jesse assured her. "But it's not every day that you ask a girl to marry you and she disappears." He teased lightly, thinking back to the content of their letters before her disappearance. There were still a couple on her desk no doubt that she had yet to read.

He followed it up with a more serious question, "Are you alright?" Of course he wanted to know what happened, but he was more worried about her health.

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The easiness shared in their letters translated smoothly in person, a near direct opposite to her relationship with Lachlan. (Granted, Fallon wasn't sure what was to come of that relationship, but she definitely missed the solid presence of his body around hers. Friends could lay together like that, couldn't they?) Where she was moving to sit properly only a second ago, her shoulders slumped slightly beneath the mess of blankets.

"You have to admit, it would be a great story to tell your mum," she teased. Mrs. Hatchitt could hardly expect him to court someone so soon after losing his fiancé? Wife? Fallon's disappearance would've provided him the perfect out

His question was one asked repeatedly by everyone who had stopped in to visit her. Only, with him Fallon was inclined to answer more openly than most. She wasn't about to sob as she had once alone with Malou, so at least there was that. "I guess? I'm not quite sure, to be honest." Fallon instinctively pullef the blankets further around herself, almost as though she expected them to disappear at any given moment. "I don't think I've processed it all yet...I don't even know how we made it back."

  

"Ma is still in the dark, as it were, thought I'd enjoy my time before adding her into the mix." Jess admitted with a laugh. He'd told Gabe about the letters of course, joking around with his brother without really revealing the underlying tone they had taken on as time had progressed.

Leaning forward a bit, elbows resting on his knees, arms falling forward, it was hard for him to really take in her appearance, given the blanket cocoon around her and given the fact that he had only seen her once before this. Whatever it was that had happened had clearly shaken her and though Jess wanted to press for details, he figured she would share if or when she was ready to. There was one thing he did catch onto though and that was that wherever she had wound up, she hadn't been alone. That had to be good at least? "Back from where?" Okay, so at he had to know that much.

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Her smile didn't quite meet her eyes. The teasing and mild laughter felt natural, but Fallon was still locked in the mindset of the tundra. She still half-expected to wake up and be in the fetal position as the wind howled outside. Perhaps this was death, and Jesse being JP was just a figment of her imagination. He was the last handsome man she spotted before leaving with Lachlan, it wasn't entirely mplausible.

She allowed that subject to drop, certain they'd pick it up again at some point or another. Instead, she elected to answer his question, which, having answered it an infinite amount of times today, wasn't hard. "The running assumption is the Arctic Circle, or at least somewhere equally as brutal." Fallon was positive it wasn't Antarctica, at least. There presently only minimal daylight there supposedly. "Definitely could've used your transfiguration skills out there." Her missing toes might've stood more of a chance if someone equally as talented as she had been there with her.

  

Letting out a low whistle, Jess shook his head in solidarity. "Rough, of all the places." Anywhere with that extreme of conditions for a week no less, must have been hell to manage. She'd survived though. "Seems like those auror skills did you right, though." Jess likely only knew the half of it. He'd still been in school when Gabe had entered the training program for it, plus he really could only share so much. A three year program though, was extensive and likely prepared them for a wide variety of situations. An accidental portkey to the tundra likely hadn't been one of them, but the skills had to be applicable to a point.

"I doubt that, you came out alright, it seems." Though if Jess were honest with himself, she was probably right. Not to mention he was aware of the rudimentary magic needed to create a portkey. They learned quite a bit in training for the squad, including how to temporarily fix a splinching and some minor fixes for portkey incidents until those from the right department, trained more acutely for such incidents, could arrive. "I now understand the blanket cocoon." He added to levy the serious turn the conversation had taken. He doubted she wanted to discuss it much more, as she'd probably done so several times today.

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"It was hell, JP." Pure torture. At least they'd found food quickly, but the rest of it was god awful. "We wouldn't have survived it if I hadn't gone through the program. Probably wouldn't have been sent there, either." Less than three years as a full fledged auror and Fallon was already considering a career change. A department where an evil mastermind wouldn't feel the need to whiz her away to the fucking arctic.

She wiggled her toes beneath the blanket, the missing ones an obvious sensation. Supposedly, the nerves would die off in time and she wouldn't feel the ache as much. Truthfully, Fallon was grateful just to have kept her hands and feet. A few missing toes wasn't the end of the world.

"I kept asking for more until they brought in a massive stack," she explained. "I managed to transfigure our clothes into heavier layers, and we used a polar bear's pelt as a rug." The unspoken, 'we killed a polar bear', hung in the air at that. "It wasn't enough, though. No matter what I did we were still cold...so, yes, blanket cocoon. Everyone will want one come winter."

  

If she hadn't seemed so distraught in the following sentences, Jess would have chuckled at the use of his childhood nickname, a name so very few people actually still called him, outside of family these days. It had been how they'd addressed one another for almost a month however, so he was fine with it, pleased even, that he hadn't magically become Mr. Hatchitt too quickly.

He was still curious who we was, but was more concerned by her insinuation that this was perhaps the work of somebody deliberately trying to hurt her. That did not sit well with him at all. He'd heard her comments on the blankets as well, but had chosen to simply do something about it, instead of reply. He summoned the pitcher on the table across the room and vanished the water within. He then transfigured it into more of a jar and mumbled the incantation for a small bluebell flame to sprout up inside. They were technically a "cold" flame, and the jar itself would remain cool to the touch, but out of the top the typical warmth of fire would flow, and be safe to have near. He set it on the table next to her, a frown still tugging at the corners of his mouth.

'You think somebody sent you there on purpose?" He added after a moment of watching the fire with satisfaction that the charm was working properly.

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The flickering flames reminded her instantly of being in the caves, so much so that she couldn't bear to watch it for more than a split second. The warmth it provided, however, was comforting. Once he left she'd extinguish the flames to prevent the panic attack the dancing lights would surely cause. "Thank you," she murmured.

"I don't see what else could've happened." The key was left directly under her badge. Even if Lachlan hadn't sent it with her "forgotten" badge (for, Fallon maintained it wasn't forgotten but somehow taken out of her flat without her knowledge) she would've pocketed the key for investigation. "This key showed up out of the blue. I thought I'd left it home the day of the match, but then it was in my pocket at the pub and the portkey activated." The flames provided enough warmth that Fallon felt comfortable shaking her left arm from the blanket cocoon. Not for long, but just enough for her to animatedly use her hand as she spoke.

"It was meant to just take me, of that I'm sure." The criminal would've succeeded in his mission if he had, for Fallon's final burst of will to survive had centered solely on saving Lachlan.

  

Jess wasn't sure if he'd helped or not, but it had been a good distraction for a moment. She volunteered some more information about the circumstances  surrounding her disappearance, and it only caused his frown to deepen.

"I assume they took the key as evidence?" Jess would be curious to take a peek at it himself, though would likely be unable to discern much. For all he liked to think of himself as a capable, talented wizard, he knew a little bit about a lot, a Jack of all trades, but master of none. Realistically he was alarmed though by the mere thought that somebody would go to such great lengths to harm her... in what, retaliation of some sort?

Pleased to see that she was at least warm enough to pull one hand from the blanket wrap, he remembered, albeit belatedly about her ring. "Earned yourself some enemies have you? Means you must be pretty good at your job wrangling kiwis." He was still pretty sure now that kiwis was a cover. "Did the ring survive the tundra?" He joked as he reached out to catch her hand mid-gesture; again for a break in the seriousness, it was the least of his concerns really.

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"First thing they asked for," she confirmed. The key was the oddest sort, too. An ancient looking skeletal key. Fallon was convinced that throughout their time in the tundra that they had missed some sort of clue. Why make the portkey into a key at all if it wasn't meant to unlock something bigger? "Good riddance, really."

He had to know by now there never were any real kiwis. The Moroccan's brought an influx of people, and therefore an influx of crime, but she held no ill will against them. Happy as she'd be for things to settle down again. "Human traffickers, illegal smugglers, serial killers, you know. The usual." Any one of them could have it out for her, the thought made her cringe.

The ring was presently on her wrist as a bracelet. With so many inquisitive eyes scanning her today Fallon hadn't wanted to draw attention to her somewhat improper relationship with him. "By the skin of its teeth, I'd say." Fallon allowed him to continue holding her hand, as she already missed the casual intimacy she shared with Lachlan. "I mostly kept it in my pocket. I didn't want to lose it."

  

"The usual of course," As suspected the key was locked away for further prodding and she was sitting here casually listing off the people who could possible want to make her disappear. The real, actually dangerous nature of her job; Jess rather though he preferred when they were fruit.

Upon further inspection, he could indeed see it peeking out from the sleeve of whatever it was the hospital had given her to wear for her stay. It was charmed to last, but the cold of the arctic certainly could have undone his best intentions easily. He was pleased to see however, that it was still intact and that she hadn't lost it. Not that he could have blamed her if it hadn't come back either. He could always make another if necessary.

"Merlin your hands are still cold." He realized as he ran his thumb over her knuckles, instinctively bringing his other hand to add to warmth to her ice cold fingers, rubbing his hand over hers to generate a little extra heat.

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Whenever Lachlan had held her hand, it was just that or, at most, a friendly squeeze. He'd been feverish for most of their time in the Arctic, so she couldn't blame him or overthink it too much really. The fact was that he had held her while she was upset, which surely had to count for something? Merlin, she was confused.

JP's grip on her hand felt softer than any of the embraces she and Lachlan shared, like she was something precious to him. Part of her bristled at the thought, seemingly ready and willing to have another tense conversation about women in Society. The other, much larger, part of her was content to enjoy it. If anything, she was more tempted to ask him to lie down with her than anything else.

"They said it'd take a few days to get my body temperature back up to normal. Magic can only do so much..." Her hands had never been cold like this before.