C'est La Mort

There would be no further argument. Edwin held no true power over Jack in such a battle. He would not deny Jack her grief so soon after the death of a friend. Such a response was to be expected; the denial of death was common, and evidently a method of emotional defense that Jack was more than capable of resorting to. She is human, Edwin reminded himself. For it was a commonly debated subject.

Edwin held his wand against Nemo’s chest with a regretful sigh as his eyes fell closed. It felt a terrible violation, to disturb the dead in such a way. “Satus pectus pectoris,” He softly spoke and Nemo’s heart leapt beneath. “My condolences, Jack,” Edwin spoke up as he dropped his wand in defeat against his side. “Should I alert the Ministry?” He slowly inquired beneath his palm, which he scrubbed across the line of his jaw. It was late. His exhaustion had overwhelmed him at last.

“I can-“ Edwin fell silent to the noise that he beheld. That wasn’t… But it was, indeed to the sight of a softly stirring man that Edwin opened his eyes once more. Nemo had inhaled a feeble breath, and into Jack’s palm his face had turned. “He-“ Edwin launched forward with a thrust of his heels to press his palm to the side of his patient’s throat. The pulse was weak, but it existed nonetheless.

Jack had been right; Nemo Omara was alive. And Edwin set to healing him at once.

Jack hated the look of pity that Edwin was giving her. Usually unreadable, it seemed that he could not remain blank when he saw someone like herself so reduced. How many creatures had died in Jack's hands at the Ministry- and never a tear. Jack knew it was apart of the job, apart of life, that so long as something went out being cared for, she could not feel sad for it. Edwin had been there and he knew her to be hardened to something like death, something that life never stopped for. To see her lose herself now was something that pained him to see.

Jack did not let his doubting, piteous expression directed towards her reduce her resolve. She was not going to let him talk her out of something like this. You never had to explain what you knew to be true. Jack had heard that slogan somewhere, she couldn't remember, and it strengthened her in this instance. He turned to Poe and delivered one last spell.

Jack felt a small seizure in her own heart, a small leap, and suddenly she glowed. She felt the feeling edge back, tired, but strong with life. Her breath thickened and she heaved a breath, unable to hear Edwin's words. It was then the Healer realized and yet he could not say it.

"He's alive," she concluded. She slid away, sitting between her friend and the back of the couch as she recovered from the shock of the near-tragedy and the sensation of double feelings confined to her one being. She closed her eyes and smiled. "You thought I was crazy," she said. Her eyes opened and they fixed on Edwin. "It's a good thing I am, huh?"

She still had her roommate's hand. She squeezed.

Through the gleam of distraction that had glazed the healer’s eyes, Edwin addressed Jack as he proceeded to orchestrate the functionality of Nemo’s organs with practiced swishes and rotations of his wand. “Denying the truth,” he corrected Jack flatly. “I assumed you were denying the truth. I didn’t think you crazy. I have seen enough to know the difference,” Edwin concluded before leaning into Nemo, rendering his left ear parallel with the latter’s gently parted lips. And with the drumming of his fingers against his uniform-clad hip, Edwin began to count the man’s breaths as his watch rattled softly around his wrist. One, two, three – His breathing possessed the fragile and fluttering attributes of a butterfly as one after the other was expelled. - four, five, six – The pain that had yet to cease its assault against Nemo was undoubtedly disturbing the instinctual response. - seven, eight - “Subsisto poena,” Edwin recited softly. “Eight breaths per minute,” he murmured to himself with confirmation from his watch. “A little slow, but healing.”

Edwin drew away from Nemo to watch the rise and fall of his chest skeptically. His mind was a frenzy of questions. How had Jack felt his emotions? Certainly, he knew of Empathy, but such cases had remained mere healers’ lore to him until the present. Is she aware of it? Edwin denied his curiosity and opted to remain silent in regards to such matters. Surely, his assumptions would stifle his hunger for answers. He needn’t pry.

“Under normal circumstances, I would follow protocol and suggest that Mr. Omara be taken to St. Mungo’s to remain within the Psychiatric Ward under constant supervision,” He informed Jack as he stood, stowing his wand within a pocket in his uniform. He then turned his head towards Jack and leveled his gaze with hers. “But St. Mungo’s is far too tall a building,” Edwin stated honestly. “I believe him to be safer here, so long as he is under your watch. He must be kept away from lethal objects and allowed to consume only what you have inspected and provided him with. Do not let this man out of your sight, Jack. I must inform you that his ‘rebound attempts’ are often the attempts which do him the most harm. In comparison, this attempt was child’s play.”

“You have my number. If his breathing or his pulse is to become weak or slower than it is presently, contact me immediately. He is under the influence of several healing spells which will make it difficult for him to remain conscious or to move normally. If he doesn’t appear capable of it, do not allow him to move from the sofa. I trust you know how to sedate him, should he become a threat to himself or to you. So long as he does not ingest any medication or drought until he has healed, any means would suffice.”

Edwin paused and an expression of recollection lit his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. “By the law of the Ministry of Magic, he will not be permitted to keep his wand in his possession until his psychological state has improved.” Accio, Nemo Omara’s wand. “I apologize in advance for that,” He added and stooped to the ground to retrieve the weapon that had crawled towards him by the command of the spell. “And good luck, Jack,” He added as he climbed to his full stature once more and slotted Nemo’s wand beside his own in his pocket. “You’ll need it.”

Subsisto poena - relieves pain

He assured her he did not think her to be crazy, though she would have guessed all that he had witnessed would have convinced him that, without a doubt, she was a tad unhinged. All that he had seen her do at the Ministry would surely have convinced him, seeing as she was usually wrestling some sort of beast. Or the times he had bailed her out- suicidal Seers, homicidal poltergeists, face-changed Lestranges. Jack doubted Edwin's sanity for never doubting hers.

But she would not doubt him, because he was working on Poe, and he was one hell of a Healer, and she needed him now. He cast a spell, one she did recognize to be a pain reliever, and then reported his findings. Jack nodded and felt more of the tension in her shoulders loosen. No, it was never really gone, but to know that Poe was still with her- well, that was something worth feeling better about.

Edwin explained how most times, someone like Poe would be taken back to Mungo's and Jack began to think of arguments. They were too busy with the plague thing; no one would be watching him; Poe would be miserable. But Edwin's argument stopped all of hers. “But St. Mungo’s is far too tall a building." She met his eyes. Poe was not another depression-case. Poe was a chronic-suicide risk.

He began to instruct her on her responsibilities and her heart thumped with the rhythm of his quick, practical words. It was her job to keep him alive. She had always felt it her purpose to keep her friend's alive- Chase, Andrew, Ariel, Michael, Thaor... But they had all moved out of her life or simply did not need her protection. Never had she had someone to protect from themself.

She nodded along and cringed as Edwin took Poe's wand, sure he was going to be mad she had let it go without a fight. Edwin wished her luck and she stood to clasp hands with him. "Thank you, Edwin. Really." She smiled.

He left and the smile disappeared. She let out two short, low whistles, and Elliot came trotting in, sitting at her heels. "Guard him," she said in a low voice, and Elliot looked at her. His image wavered and he grew into a tall, wolf-like dog. Jack turned and walked down the hall and opened the closet they usually never used. On occasion, a muddy jacket was thrown in to dry, but mostly it was for hiding things from the Jarveys. She stood in the middle of the closet and whispered, "Accio all drugs and alcohol."

The next few seconds made Jack wish she were a Seeker rather than a beater. All sorts of dodgy objects and bottles flew towards her, and she caught one with each hand while arranging the others with her other hand. After a few moments, the closet was pretty much brimming with bottles and cigarettes and bags, and Jack was hurrying into the living room to grab the potions cabinet. Poe was not moving, and neither was Elliot. She dragged the cabinet into the closet and shoved the door of the closet against all of the things she had to hide from her friend.

She magically locked and reinforced the door before turning and walking back to the living room. She turned the television on and switched it to Spongebob; who could be angry with Spongebob on, right? She turned the volume down low and pulled a blanket and throw pillow from the other small sofa, setting it at the feet of Poe's sofa. She sat atop it, preparing herself for a long night.

He had stirred from his spell-induced slumber groggily and after several hours of silent and motionless rest, the likes of which Nemo’s body had not experienced in several days, due to his stubborn refusal to sleep. And it was the uncharacteristic tranquility of said sleep that drew Nemo from his previous state of bliss and thrust him once more into the present.

Startled, Nemo leapt from the sofa in a jarring swinging of his limbs, only to fall heavily upon his knees when his recovering being would not permit such efforts. "He's alive,” He dizzily recalled as he swayed slowly below. “I…” It was a gargled syllable amongst the wail that his distraught mind had produced on its own accord, much in the way that Nemo drew his fists towards his head and knocked against his skull with merciless force. “No!” He howled in a disconcerting blur of flailing strands of hair and violent hands as he proceeded to abuse himself. His heart gave a wild flutter and he crumbled beneath its excruciating effect, folding in half to thump his head roughly against the floorboards. “No!” His scream was muted within the broken shelter he’d formed. “I was dead!” He sobbed, utterly shattered. “I was finally dead!”

It seemed that Jack had fallen asleep. She had sat up for hours, simply watching Poe sleep, waiting for him to need her. She had a small collection of littered, empty colas around her in her attempt to stay up, but night after night of only an hour here or there of sleep had severely weakened the nineteen year old. She had fallen asleep, one of her hands gripping the edge of the soda as though it would alert her of any changes in her friend.

There was an alert, but a very odd one. He hand and arm were suddenly crushed as her friend crashed from the sofa. She let out a yelp as she was thrown into full consciousness and she stumbled back, trying to figure out what was going on. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and spotted her friend, banging his head against the floor as he sobbed.

Jack swallowed and slowly crawled over to him. She didn't know what to say. She waited a long moment and then rested her hand on his wrist. "Poe," she said, trying to alert him that she was here for him.

That touch which he had once welcomed, had often sought out when in need of comfort, or when the knowledge that Jack had not yet abandoned his side had grown too implausible a truth for his mind to bear, now burned with the flame of betrayal. He moved jerkily away from Jack's splayed fingers with a coughed and heartbroken sound. "I trusted you," He informed his companion as he rocked slowly upon his knees and the top of his head, arms clasped roughly around his skull. "I trusted you enough to show you. I showed you my scars. I showed you him," He cried softly.

He barked a second sob; the wailing of a tortured, and hellish thing as he pulled himself upward, uncurling to kneel with his head hung low. "I wanted to die with you. I trusted you... I trusted you," was his hopeless mantra.

He pulled away from her and it was this motion that sent her heart into a plummeting spiral, squeezing her heart almost as painfully as the time Vito had reached within her and squeezed her heart for her. She swallowed, trying not to feel her own hurt, trying to be brave and strong enough to take care of him. No one needed to take care of her, not even herself. She was here for Poe. Not for her.

But to see someone repulsed by her touch, hurt by her help... It was too much like Chase not understanding her decision, too much like Vito trying to kill her again, too much like Ariel refusing to speak to her. But no. This could not be like them. Poe was a friend. Poe was not an enemy, not someone that brought tragedy. He delivered her back to happy Jack, silly Jack. He would not hurt her. He was not like them.

He was crying and Jack's own tears caught in her throat, but she held them down, swallowed them back. You need to be strong, dammit. Stop. CRYING. She forced it all back and said in a quiet voice, "I'm not ready, Poe. I'm not ready for you to leave me."

There was too much. Too much rage to be felt. Too much darkness.

It had flared within him with the restoration of his weakly beating heart; an all consuming hole that ate, and ate, and ATE away at every fleck of blood and fiber of tissue. It was a nothingness and a searing, boiling weight simultaneously. He breathed with desperation to replenish his lungs as he shook. But they were not sufficient breaths, rather the expulsion of silent and dizzying screams as too-warm tears trickled downward in abundance.

Until there was nothing left of hope, or light, or humor… And at last the young man was swallowed by the black. "You let her die! You killed her! Then why not me?!" He screamed, fingers trembling with anger as he beat viciously at his head. "Why not me?! Why won’t you let me die?" There was far too much. "Kill me!"

Poe was close to hyperventilating and Jack forced herself to watch, forced herself to face the consequences. She had chosen and she had to follow through fully, all the way. She could not intervene this much and the withdraw when things got scary. Though it was pain, though it was torture, though it shattered her heart, she forced herself watch her only friend disintegrate.

And then came the accusations.

Poe was the only one. He alone knew of Chase's death and Jack's connection to it. And he used it against her. And Jack's heart broke. People didn't think of each other, they could only imagine themselves, their pain and hurt. Jack could not trust anyone. There was no one to trust or be trusted by; no one to depend on or be depended on for; no one to love or be loved by.

Why did she keep tricking herself into believing otherwise?

And then she snapped. She stood and all of her fears and doubts filled her lungs with fire. "Why do you insist on not seeing the truth? You survived! People bend over backwards for you! They adore you! People want to secure your happiness, offer it up to you, and you refuse them! What haven't I done to help you? To make you forget? To give you security? Dammit, Poe, why won't you let me make you happy?!"