Don't Think I Can Fight This Anymore

Dear Quinn,

Please, stop worrying. I’m sure there’s no one stalking you. There’s no one waiting to slit your throat in the dead of night. First of all, why would they? Second, how would they find you? Ian and I are the only ones who know exactly where you are, and neither of us told anyone.

Please, honey. It hurts me to see you like this.

Love,
Evelyn

~*~

Evelyn had taken the day off to go to Molly’s house with Charlie. This didn’t stop her from running down to the shop all morning to make sure the servers knew everything they had to do. She finally stopped when Jackie physically pushed her out the front door and locked it behind her.

“Okay. I made her mad.” Evelyn sighed as Charlie pulled her upstairs for what would probably be the last time.

Charlie had never seen anything other than anger on Jackie’s face, but maybe Evelyn knew her better. Or maybe Evelyn just saw what she needed to see in Jackie.

Evelyn instead focused on finding something to wear, which was a much bigger ordeal that it usually was. Charlie sipped some tea and watched her toss a sweater onto the bed.

“Why does nothing look right?” she demanded, looking into the closet. “God!”

Charlie picked up a black shirt that looked like it would hug her curves perfectly. There were rips in the sleeves. “What’s wrong with this?”

She gave him a scathing look. “I’m going to your mother’s house, not a punk concert.”

“Punk?”

She ignored him and flipped through more hangers.

“What did you wear the last eight times you went over?”

“I don’t know! Sweaters and collared shirts? British costumes?”

Charlie rolled his eyes and drank more tea. Evelyn really should switch to tea. It might calm her down a bit.

“Are we playing quidditch today?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “Probably.”

She dove into the hangers again and this time came out pulling a black Weezer t-shirt over her head and holding a grey and blue plaid flannel.

“That a Canadian costume?” he mocked.

“Shut up, Weasley.” She pulled the flannel on. “There. How do I look?”

“Like you’re going to take over the world with the cunning use of maple syrup and hockey sticks.”

She looked like she was going to pretend to be angry for a second, but then laughed instead. “That would be something.”

She sat on the bed next to him and started pulling on a pair of faded blue chucks. “I didn’t know you play quidditch.” He said.

She nodded and started pulling her laces tight. “Of course I do. I was on my school team and everything. Keeper.”

“Were you any good?”

“They said I was. But then I got kicked off the team.”

“Why?”

“Got hurt too much. I was a liability.”

Charlie didn’t say anything. She was so graceful on the ground. Could she be clumsy in the air? Sherlock padded over and lay his head on Charlie’s knee. He smiled and scratched behind the labrador’s ears, but he just whimpered.

“He knows we’re leaving for the day.” Evelyn sighed. “He wants to come with.”

“Mum wouldn’t mind.”

“You sure?”

Sherlock was not the only one who didn’t want to be separated.

“Well, she won’t say anything.” Evelyn frowned and Charlie hastily added, “She won’t mind at all. Do you know what kinds of pets I had as a kid? She’s always saying she could never work in the garden because there was always something running about. At least Sherlie is trained.”

She smiled oddly at him and started on her other set of laces.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.” she smiled. “It’s just...Frank always called him that. Sherlie.”

He looked at the tea in his hands. “You miss him a lot.”

“Yeah.” Her fingers slowed at they tied the flat white laces. “Him and Kevin. Frankie was...he was just a kid. And to have him ripped away like that...Kevin not long after...Sometimes I think Kevin wasn’t an accident. That someone set those dementors on him. But there wasn’t any proof.” She took a deep breath and finished with her shoes. “But, we all have our scars.”

He gently put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t need him to. She stood and smiled at Sherlock.

“Want to get some country air, Sherlock?”

Sherlock wagged his tail and pranced after his mistress. Charlie slowly followed, dumping his tea in the sink. Evelyn shouldered her broomstick, a Canadian broom that Charlie had never heard of, and smiled as Charlie grabbed the box of scones she had made for his mother.

“You sure that thing can fly?” he teased.”What’s the handle? Maple?”

“It sure as hell can fly better than your Cleansweep.”

He looked down at his own broom. “Hey! They said I could have flown for England on this!”

“Sure. Ten years ago you could have.”

~*~

Evelyn laughed as Sherlock gamboled in the long grasses as they walked through the orchard. It was like he was a puppy again. Up ahead, Charlie and George carried a large wooden crate of Quidditch equipment between them.

“I can’t believe you two aren’t playing.” Evelyn said, looking at Sylvia and Hermione.

“I’ve always been afraid of heights.” Sylvia admitted. “Same as Hermione.”

“I’m not afraid of heights.” Hermione said unhappily. “I just don’t fancy flying.”

Sylvia rolled her eyes. “Right.”

They finally reached the clearing, where Ginny was already stretching out her muscles. Sylvia and Hermione started walking the perimeter and laying down barrier spells, to keep the balls on their makeshift pitch.

“Alright.” George said, standing next to his sister in the center of the clearing. “Since Ginny and I organized this we’re team captains.”

Bill and Fleur finally reached the top of the hill, Victoire riding on her father’s shoulders. Bill carefully put his daughter down and ran over to join everyone who was playing.

“Normal rules.” George continued. “Bill, don’t make any new ones up.”

Bill rolled his eyes. “It was one time!”

“No seekers.”

Harry and Charlie both groaned slightly. “We never play with seekers!” Charlie protested. “And look, there’s actually two of us today!”

“Cause the snitch is so old the game would be over in ten seconds, between you and Harry.” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “Even I could catch the damn thing in under a minute.”

“Oh, I’m sure you could, Ronnie-kins.”

“One keeper, one beater, two chasers.” George continued, ignoring them. “First team to one hundred fifty points wins. Since Ginny plays professionally, Percy is on her team.”

“Why?” Percy asked.

“Because you’re a handicap. The rest of us can actually play.” George spared a glance at Ron. “Well, most of the time. Anyone other than Ron play keeper?”

“I do.” Evelyn said, slightly raising her hand.

“Alright. Ginny gets Perce, I’ll take Evs.”

“I want Charlie.” Ginny said quickly.

“Bill.”

“Ron.”

“Harry.”

“That’s right, pick me last.” Harry joked. “It’s primary school all over again.”

Charlie looked down at his girlfriend. “Don’t think I’ll go easy on you.”

She snorted. “You’re the one who should be worried, Weasley.”

“You sure you’re not too old for this, Bill?” Ginny taunted her eldest brother.

“Remember who taught you how to fly a broomstick in the first place, Ginevra.”

Harry peered at Evelyn’s broom. “A Star Racer? Never actually seen one before.”

Evelyn held out the broom. “Well, what d’ya think?”

“Quidditch Quarterly says the stylistic preferences of the North American brooms slow them down.”

“Sure. By about a fraction of a second.”

The teams quickly organized themselves into positions and Hermione walked over, having completed the barrier spells. Sylvia and Fleur settled down on a conjured blanket to watch. Hermione released a single bludger into the air, and grabbed the bright red quaffle.

“Ready?” she asked.

Everyone nodded. Evelyn tightened her grip on her broom and it hummed in response.

“Go!”

Hermione tossed the ball high into the air and everyone kicked off. Evelyn laughed in delight at the sensation of air ripping through her hair. Evelyn did a quick loop-de-loop between the two trees that designated a goal, and settled to watch the game on the other side of the pitch.

Ginny snatched the quaffle from Bill and bore down on Evelyn, red hair streaming behind her like a flag. Harry rammed into her as she tried to throw from a distance, and Evelyn easily caught the ball and tossed it to Bill.

“I’ll get you for that Harry!” Ginny screeched. “That was a foul and you know it!”

Percy swung at a bludger and looked as surprised as anyone when it connected and soared at George. George more expertly redirected it at Ron, who dodged. Charlie knocked into Bill and stole the quaffle, grinning as on the sidelines Fleur boo-ed him. He tore towards Evelyn, but she was ready -

At the last second, he tossed the ball to Ginny, who had been creeping along underneath. But Evelyn had good reflexes and she lunged to the end of her broom for the ball, knocking it away from where the hoops would have been.

Her broom tipped forward at the weight change and she slid off, grabbing wildly. But she was already falling freely in the air. Someone screamed and she watched the ground rush towards her.

Surviving the war to die in an at-home Quidditch accident, she thought. Isn’t that just the way of things?

The breath was knocked out of her, but not by the ground. Charlie had dove after her, scooping her from the air like an oversized snitch, the force of her fall almost knocking him off his own broom. She lay across his lap, not unlike when she had saved George at Hogwarts.

“Are. You. Mental?” he bellowed, slowing the broom down to land.

“Yes!”

They landed and Evelyn held Charlie’s shoulder to steady herself, her heart still pounding in her throat. Sylvia, Hermione, Fleur ran towards them, Sherlock running after like a game of tag. The others floated in mid-air around Charlie and Evelyn.

“What the bloody hell was that about Evelyn?” Charlie demanded. “You could have died!”

“C’mon, Charlie.” George said. “It was an accident.”

“I told you I got kicked off my school team.” Evelyn muttered. “Too many death-defying stunts.”

“This isn’t a joke!”

“It was a five meter fall.”

“It was ten.” Ginny corrected, looking slightly amused herself.

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked, clutching a stitch in her side.

George swooped down and picked up Sylvia, shooting across the grass as she screamed. “PUT ME DOWN GEORGE I HATE HEIGHTS!”

“We’re barely in the air!”

Evelyn cupped Charlie’s face in her hands, and half their audience awkwardly looked away. “Charlie.” she said gently. “I’m sorry. It will probably happen again, but it was an accident. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

He closed his eyes and nodded.

“So. Game on!” Ron said cheerfully, clapping his gloved hands together.

Evelyn quickly pecked Charlie on the lips then tore away from him, racing to where her broom was slowly sinking to the ground. Hermione and Fleur moved off and everyone else took to the air. George put Sylvia back on her blanket next to Victoire and cackled as she covered Victoire’s ears and swore at him. Bill floated alongside Charlie and they watched Evelyn pet Sherlock before remounting her broom.

“Well, you sure know how to pick them.” Bill said.

~*~

As dusk fell in the countryside, Evelyn produced balls of twinkling fairy lights and tossed them into the trees, while Hermione lit clusters of candles that would float in mid air. Fleur and Arthur ran back and forth from the house, emerging each time with even more food.

“Looks nice.” Charlie said, snaking his arms around her waist.

She smiled and leant slightly into him. “Believe it or not, I picked it up in the army. Funny, the things you learn.”

“You having a good time?”

“I always have a good time when I come here.” They both swayed slightly to unheard music. “It’s...so different, from how I grew up. All of it.”

“Well, you did grow up in a city.”

She shook her head. “Not just that. I mean...it was just me and Danny, my brother. Mostly. Dad was always on tour, stopping through when he was on military leave. Didn’t get a desk job until I was ten. Mom...Mom had postpartum depression, after Danny was born. She didn’t want to...be a mother, I guess. As soon as I was old enough to take care of him, she went back to working full time.”

Her hands found his and she entwined their fingers.

“I think that was why I joined the army, at the end of the day. There were other reasons. But I didn’t have anything to go back to, when school was over. I figured, serve for a few years. Figure out what to do from there. Next thing I know, war’s brewing in England and I’m volunteering for a special task force.”

“I thought you don’t tell anyone why you joined the army.”

She smiled vaguely. “You’re right. I don’t. Not just anyone.” Suddenly she jumped, Charlie getting his chin out of the way of her head just in time, and pointed to the dark sky with both their hands. “Look, a shooting star! Quick, make a wish with me!”

“What are we wishing for?”

“I can’t tell you. It won’t come true.”

And she buried her deepest desire with a falling star a thousand light years away.

Was it then that he knew? That there was no way he couldn’t not be standing here with her in another five, ten, fifteen years? In another eternity? Perhaps wishing on the same comet over and over, teaching their children not to tell what they wished for? His own mother had resigned him to bachelorhood for life, but after just a few months he knew. This was the only woman who could capture him.

But she wouldn’t accept that. Not yet. You don’t approach a hippogriff until it knows you aren’t a threat.

Instead, he brought her wrist up to his lips and softly kissed the underside, smiling as her cheeks radiated heat.

“Gotcha!” Sylvia cried joyously, snapping a photo.

“Sylvia!” Evelyn yelled, jumping away from Charlie. “Will you stop with the god damn - “

“Evelyn!” Fleur cried, covering Victoire’s ears. Harry’s hands came firmly down over Teddy’s, although both children were so engrossed with petting Sherlock they barely heard.

“ - photographs!”

“I caught you being sweet.” Sylvia taunted, backing away as Evelyn advanced. She looked so happy that Evelyn was having a hard time pretending to be mad. “I caught you being cute.”

“I’m going to destroy that god damn camera if it’s the last thing - “

“Alright, everyone sit!” Molly said, running out of the house. “Food’s all ready.”

“I’ll frame it for you.” Sylvia said brightly, walking towards the table and sitting between George and Hermione.

“And distribute copies across the country.” Evelyn grumbled, letting Charlie lead her to the table. “Via the Quibbler Photograph Contests.”

~*~

Evelyn should have known, but how could she have? When she looked back, years later, even though she had her suspicions, what happened next blindsided everyone.

Evelyn and Charlie had a quiet couple of days. She ran the tea room every day and he visited with family or wrote reports in her flat. At night they’d go out, alone or with friends. But they were staying in the night that changed everything.

Charlie was editing his report while Evelyn lay with her feet on his lap, reading a muggle novel. Once in awhile, she giggled at something or read a quote out to him.

There was a knock on the door and Sherlock immediately bounded down from the armchair he had been dozing on. He sniffed the crack under the door, and then wagged his tail and ran in a circle.

“Walking sneakoscope.” Evelyn muttered, swinging her legs onto the floor. She carried her book with her to the door and swung the door open. “Sarge?”

Ian’s face was stiff and lined. Evelyn hadn’t seen that look in a while. The look when he had to tell her something awful. Her heart stopped. What now?

“What’s wrong?”

Charlie had stopped writing and was watching them. Evelyn’s knuckles were white as they held her book.

“Quinn is dead.”

Evelyn’s face turned to stone and Charlie stood, abandoning his report. Sherlock whimpered, feeling the atmosphere of the small apartment change.

“How?” Evelyn asked.

“Hung himself in his cabin. The VAC therapist he was seeing went over for their session and found him.”

Charlie caught the door as Evelyn walked over to her bar and took a bottle of whiskey off the shelf. Then she sat on the couch, unscrewed the cap, and drank straight from the bottle.

“I’m leaving tomorrow to organize the funeral.” Ian said, speaking to the wall behind her. “You’ll be there?”

Evelyn popped open a secret compartment in her coffee table and retrieved a stale pack of cigarettes. With trembling fingers, she took one out and lit it with the tip of her wand.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” he sighed, then looked at Charlie. “I’m sorry to leave you with this, but I’ve got to go.”

“It’s fine.” Charlie said.

Ian went slowly down the stairs and Charlie shut the door. He turned back to Evelyn to find her drinking from the bottle again, Sherlock licking her cheek.

“I never thought he’d actually do it.” she said hollowly.

Charlie sat next to her and watched her smoke. Her eyes were dry, but she was so broken.

“I know he was messed up. But he was getting better. Really.”

Charlie pulled her into his chest and ran his fingers through her hair. She smoked and drank, but she didn’t cry. Somehow, she couldn’t. Eventually, she fell asleep, clutching her dog, her boyfriend, and her bottle. Charlie eased the bottle from her grasp and carried her to bed.

Everyone seemed to think she was invincible. After all, that was how she presented herself. The unbreakable warrior.

But it was in the way she stared sadly at her medal of honor when she thought about things. The way she drank late into the night with Ian. Even the way she dressed, each outfit a costume. Who would she be today?

Charlie didn’t know what she had done in the war. He didn’t know what she went through. He didn’t need to know. He did know, however, that she wasn’t better off than anyone else. She just hit it better.