Kicking Off the Summer Right [Open]

Christian couldn't really believe he was about to go into a club, nonetheless on a secret mission of sorts. He didn't realize how stiff he was being until Apollo gave him a shove and gestured towards Molly. The elder twin had the picture in his hand, along with a plan to burn it up once he saw Roxanne personally. Christian, on the other hand, was meant to go with Molly and play some sort of casual club-goer of sorts.

But at Apollo's nudge, Christian gave a nod and stepped into the mindset he needed to have, realizing he wasn't playing the part properly at all. His arm fell across Molly's shoulders as Apollo moved towards the bar as he was meant to do. Within moments of sitting down, the bartender was working on a drink for him, and he was pretending to chat up a brunette sat beside him. He had no idea who she was, of course, but that was hardly is first priority.

--

On the street, a slightly tipsy chef and shop owner was heading home from work. After talking to Yvette, he couldn't help the fact that his mind had begun to wander back to that morning and that last time he had heard from Dom. He wished he could claim it was the last time he had seen her, because he would have felt less ridiculous for clinging to the memory. But that wasn't the case.

Declan woke late, and he blamed it on having been up so late talking to Dom the night before. Merlin, but they'd actually done that, hadn't they? And neither had asked for anything beyond it, nor expected anything else. That, he would tell her, was what it meant to be in a relationship. Knowing the other person, and wanting to just spend the evening talking sometimes. Maybe all of the time. It isn't as though he wouldn't have accepted something more than that, had they been in the right place for it mentally or emotionally. But it wouldn't have been right to do something like that just yet. Even if she did look particularly charming in his shirt.

He realized belatedly that he was lying on his stomach, which he rarely did. His arm was spread towards the other side of the bed, so he searched blindly for the blonde in question. But the sheets were cold there. Shockingly cold. His eyes opened, concern already splashing into his expression. "Dom?" He called, his voice hardly carrying given it was still thick and low from sleep. Declan sighed and rolled over, pushing himself up. A hand unconsciously moved to push his hair off of his forehead. His head didn't ache as much as he really deserved for it to.

The flat was silent, aside from the yawn that left him, and he couldn't help but wonder if she had woken earlier and told him she was getting up. Maybe he just didn't remember it. He half wished she had stayed to coax him into waking, but he was grateful for the rest that had not come as easily during the past few months. Supposing she was in the kitchen, he threw back the covers and determined that he could make the bed later. After a few minutes in the bathroom to change, Declan was starting to feel highly uncomfortable. Why was it so quiet? Dom wasn't exactly the type to be quiet.

"Dom?" He asked as he turned the light off and left the bathroom. "Love, I was thinking - do you want to go to any of the Quidditch matches? Henry can get us tickets if you-"

There was no blonde behind the island or bar of the kitchen portion of his flat. Nor in the living room. Declan froze at the end of his hallway, anger setting his jaw and tension rolling up his spine. It took a moment, but he let his chin fall into a slow nod. Well, he thought darkly, at least nothing else happened. Not this time, anyway.

There was nothing else to do besides gets on with his day, unfortunately. So he moved into the kitchen, wondering if he had messed up so badly in telling her about his parents, or about Henry's shenanigans, or in-... Had she just stayed because she thought he would drink? He didn't want to believe that. He hated that it had come to mind at all. Besides, he wasn't allowed one evening of self-pity after everything? He hadn't indulged even once before last night, and now she was gone again.

He'd thought she was his-...

Wasn't she? She had promised to try. His hands found the mugs in the sink almost absentmindedly and he belatedly realized that Dom must have put them there. He couldn't fathom why she would clean up if she had somehow guilted herself into leaving. He glanced around, half expecting to see a plate or something that had been used. A flash of white caught his attention and he pulled up short. He hesitated, afraid that it would tell him what he most feared it might. But his gaze found the words and he let out a sigh, eyes falling shut. Declan wasn't sure if he was relieved because of it, or just additionally anxious.

His gut wanted to trust her. He felt with everything in him that he needed to, even if only for himself. He hadn't trusted anyone since Danica, and that had left a mark. A dark, purpled one, mind, for everyone to see and wonder about. But a mark on the inside, too. One that made him into something of an ass. one that meant he shouldn't have been able to even reach this point with Dom. So he had no choice, really, unless he allowed himself to be a coward. And Declan was now coward. The hat had told him so nearly twenty years earlier, and though he had believed it strongly then, a bit of him had been lost in the past two and a half years. It was about time he got that section of his heart - the one that had been chiseled away in the shape of Danica - back. He deserved to have the whole of it to offer Dom once she decided she could feel something for him seriously.

He wasn't afraid that it wouldn't be perfect. The only thing he was afraid of, now, was that it wouldn't be.

--

A shout went up across the street, snagging Declan's attention and directing it towards the club he passed so often but ignored so easily. A flash of red hair would not have usually caught his attention, but there was something odd about the woman's face.

After all that-
After everything-

Declan couldn't even make his mind form complete sentences as he realized what must have happened. Did she actually see him? For a breath, he was sure she had looked right at him, and if she had, he knew what she must have seen:

The triumph that had burned in his eyes when he had asked and she had said yes? It was gone, replaced with a singed sort of pain that Declan wasn't sure she would recognize. But it was the after effect of feeling so blatantly betrayed, and he couldn't help it this time when his emotions were laid out for her to find if she bothered to check.

The one thing that he had latched onto when she had yelled at him in his flat was the mention of her having agreed to go home with whomever was sent her way. The willingness to do what Roxanne said she ought to. Moreover, the ability Roxi had to manipulate people into believing what Dom did: that relationships were bullshit. But Declan had tried so hard to show her otherwise, and even after she had said she would try, it apparently hadn't been enough. He hadn't been either, then. Clearly. Because there she went, ducking into the club as though it meant nothing that he was stood there across the street like an utter fool.

Isn't that all he had been lately, though? For more than two and a half years now, he had been successfully making himself look like an ass because he cared so much. Merlin, he hated himself sometimes. Why couldn't he be like Henry, who never bothered to be interested "for real"? Or Keiran, who may have cared immensely about his wife, but who knew when it was time to step back and demand that they change things? Sure, it hadn't worked perfectly for them yet, but the younger man - Slytherin though he was - had a better handle on things than Declan did. And Henry was far from hurting, like the other two were forced to. Really, Henry had it the best. No wife to yell at him so randomly he got whiplash, or make him consider very seriously her threats of divorce. But he also didn't have a woman lying to him about wanting to try or wanting a life with him only to watch as he's knocked to the ground by their husband's fist. Or, in this case, as they turn and walk away despite his presence right in front of her. Declan had a feeling that his actions around Henry's brother had had something to do with the younger man's ways, but Declan still wished that he could be as careless, sometimes, as his best mate was.

It took a great deal of effort, but Declan forced himself to turn away from the club. No way in hell would he be seen in a place like that. Not because he felt it was reprehensible or anything like that. Not technically. No, he had just turned thirty the week before, which made him want to cringe at times like this, but it brought up a very seriously possibility. Was this what Dom wanted, then, more than she could want him? Perhaps she had realized that he was older and focused on other things, and had decided to classify him as boring. Perhaps she registered the age gap and wanted someone younger, who felt comfortable in clubs like this one and was more within her age range. Declan had no idea. But for the first time in years, he truly felt the weight of his age on his shoulders. Thirty years old, and he was standing outside of a club (thankfully not in a cliché'd shower of rain), watching the girl he thought he could love turn away from him.

Bloody hell. And he had thought that he needed a drink the last time he'd seen her! That had been nothing. This time, though, he didn't want a drink. Not another, anyway. He wanted to give up. To quit. There was no point in continuing to look for her, was there? He knew where she was now and it wasn't at all what he wanted. It wasn't what Dom had seemed to want, either, but what could he do? Declan hated public scenes, after all. His reputation had already been torn ragged after what happened with Ryan and Danica, and he definitely didn't need word getting around about his yelling at yet another blonde who didn't want him, this time in the middle of a club.

So he left. Finally, and without making a sound. He wasn't convinced, before his feet moved, that he had so much as inched one way or another since seeing her. Not until someone apparated nearby and frightened him as they rushed towards the corner of the street with their friend. Good luck, he thought darkly, tossing them a baleful look once he realized where they were headed. The disapproval there might have frightened them enough to cause it, but they ran across the street without waiting for the sing to switch to WALK.

But WALK, Declan did. Past his flat, past the Ministry, and straight into the building where his best friend lived. Because if anyone had a cure for whatever this terrible feeling was, it was Henry Tross, the greatest player of sport and women that Declan had ever known. And, beyond that -- the only person who had ever picked Declan over someone or something they should have loved more? That was Henry. In the morning, they would go to a Quidditch game and Declan would be allowed to whine like a teenaged girl about Dom, but only until their team of choice hit fifty points. After that, he would have to quit, as tradition demanded of him, and that would be it. He would work, and see Henry, and maybe visit his parents. But he wouldn't look for her anymore, and he wouldn't think about her (if he could help it. Which he couldn't. Obviously).

All in all, it would be one big, fat lie that he tried to live. And Declan would fail miserably.

Dom bided her time in the dank alley before finally stepping into the street, moving more quickly than she probably should have, as she was supposed to be playing the part of casual partier. She didn't look herself at all - with red locks and a black dress swishing about her knees - but she didn't seem capable to wipe off the very Dom-ness that was apt to blow their cover. The jaunty sort of walk, disrupted as it was by her nervous nature, the overly expressive expression revealing much of her mission.

She approached the bouncer, who jerked his head up and stepped aside to allow her to slip into the dark building. She turned to sidle past and found her eyes making contact with someone on the street. It wasn't until she had stepped into the noise and the street bustling had been shut out by the heavy door swinging shut that it registered why those eyes had been so magnetic to her own, and why the figure had stared back.

Had she just blown her cover to Declan?

A strange, cold shock jolted through her, rattling her bones and jostling her joints. She froze, those very joints seeming to lock into place as she stumbled back to rest against the cold, thumping wall of the club. She had been wanting to see him so badly, desire always pulling her towards the Leaky before she reminded herself of the stakes involved with being so selfish as to blow everything just to satisfy a silly little wish.

But how many days had she slumped home after a long night of chasing after wild geese and curled up in bed, trying to hold in the tears as her fingers itched toward her mobile, her heart stretched out towards the man she had to abandon just as she decided to stick around. But even now, if he had not already walked away, he was just mere yards from her, just mere yards from healing and reunion. But there was too much between them. A door, a bouncer, a line of people, and Roxanne Weasley's all too real threats.

"Whoa, lady, you okay?"

A bug eyed guy, probably a few years older than her, suffering at the hands of some strange drug, was peering into her face. She shook her head and pushed away from him, wheeling around and shouldering her way out the door.

He was gone.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she blinked away the lasting impressions of the apparition's figure in her memory. She turned and offered a numb smile to the bouncer, slipping back into the thumping music and pulsating lights of the club, immediately ascending the staircase to the top floor gallery for a better view of the crowd, praying that Declan just had somehow not seen her, that tonight would really be the night it all ended.

She leaned over the edge of the railing of the top floor and saw two, sapphire eyes piercing into hers. Molly Weasley had her head lolled back, almost as if she knew the exact moment to look for her cousin. Molly lifted her eyebrows and dropped her head, glancing back at Christian. He stayed close to her as she led him towards the dance floor, beginning to dip her shoulders and swing her hips. She watched faces over Christian's shoulder, before her eyes darted back to his. "I can see our friends," she called, having to speak over the music, trying to keep the conversation as vague as possible. "If they run into our other friend, I'll be able to see them."

While one Henry Tross opened the door for his best friend, Christian was trying to figure out how to look normal while doing the sort of dancing that those around him seemed to be comfortable with. Molly practically had to shout her comments to him, but he didn't respond, merely glancing around in case Roxanne or Lily showed up on the other side of the club. Rather than catching sight of either of those, Christian noticed a shady looking man eyeing up Molly. She definitely looked like she belonged in the club, so Christian couldn't say he was surprised. But he reached out and closed some of the gap between them by splaying his fingers over her lower back. Once he was under the impression that she could no longer see his face, he glared dangerously at the other man, who blanched and turned away. He didn't want to have to explain himself, of course, so he made a point of looking through the crowd again.

Across the club, Apollo was still at the bar. And he might have been laying it on a bit thick with the girl who he had just greeted. He reached out a hand, complimenting her on her hair as he twirled the end of one section of it. To be fair, he did feel kind of disgusting about it. He would never have done that with someone he actually cared about. But this girl glanced down at his hand and, unless the lights twisting and flying across the room were deceiving him, she blushed. A slow smile arched across his face, but as he glanced over her shoulder, it froze. As it started fading away, the girl asked if something was the matter, but Apollo wasn't really listening very well. 

"Hey," he began quickly, finally looking back at her. "It's probably quieter over there. Come with?"

Her eyebrows rose, but she seemed to be expecting just what he imagined she might. It was a dark corner of the club, where people apparently went to get involved in things that involved very, very little space between one person and the other. Apollo gestured for her to walk in front of him, so she took his hand and essentially dragged him across the club. Perfect. It blocked his view of the person he was so, very, desperately sure was Lily. But only briefly. And he didn't mind, considering it meant she couldn't see him either.

When the girl kept going, he pretended to run into someone, reaching a hand up wildly as though he was afraid of accidentally hurting them. Merlin, he hoped Molly was watching. And, more than anything else, he really hoped he wasn't wrong.

Dom watched Molly walk away and looked about for Apollo. He was moving quickly now and she scanned the club, looking for whatever had caught his eye. She saw it, soon enough. A rail thin figure that looked exceedingly like her cousin, dressed more like Dom would have years prior, was striding across the club. Dom immediately swallowed and moved along the railing, heading towards the girl.

Dom hurried down the staircase and spotted Apollo hurrying through the crowd. Molly's piercing eyes were on them as well, watching every move with militant discipline. But she was distracted by someone else who was watching from above...

"Shit," she whispered to Christian. "Come on."

Dom got to 'Lily' first, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. She turned and Lily's face grinned widely at her, in an expression that had never belonged to the brunette. And then a chuckle from behind, coming from a frighteningly familiar voice. "Do you like my clone?"

Dom turned slowly and came face to face with Roxanne Weasley. Roxi lifted a small vial, with black hairs crammed inside. "I could fill a club full of Lily Potters."

Molly was moving quickly, pulling Christian along with her. She passed his brother and hissed, "Come on."

While she abandoned her blonde cousin to deal with the devil incarnate, she dragged the boys upstairs, eyes locked on the room she had seen Roxi exit.

Apollo froze when Dom reached Lily, quite sure that it wasn't the best plan to all show up at once and ambush her fully. Dom's face was something else entirely, so he stuck a hand out to catch Christian's arm as he and Molly approached.

Christian's face fell when he realized what had happened, glancing at his twin out of the corner of his eye. Apollo had straightened up, the girl at his side completely ignored now. She huffed loudly, following his gaze and glaring at Dom and not-Lily. After she wandered off, the boys turned to Molly and nodded. Apollo stepped around to block Roxanne's view of Molly as they skirted the other two women.

Christian reached around Molly's waist, his free hand reaching for his wand. Once they reached the door in question, Apollo looked to Molly for some sort of assurance that they were headed in the right direction, then turned the handle and led the way in, his wand at the ready as well.

Dom felt like she had just run into the devil herself as she stared at Roxanne Weasley, certain that everything was finally lost. She glanced above Roxi's shoulder, hoping to signal Molly or the twins to escape while they could, but they were nowhere to be seen. She swallowed and looked back at Roxi, who was looking a bit shrewdly, trying to figure out what Dom was looking for. She finally locked eyes with the blonde. "So, you received my note."

Molly was feeling right. She knew Lily was here. For the girl who never trusted beyond what she knew and could see, she was accepting this truth that Lily was behind this door. There had been something in Roxi's expression, something in that cruel, stylish figure. Molly was far from feeling relieved, far from feeling out of the woods.

Christian was pulling out his wand and Apollo was looking at her. She magically unlocked the door and Apollo opened it, stepping inside, Molly right behind him. As soon as they were in the room, however, Molly took the lead...

It was one of those creepy rooms, sitting rooms, designated to be bought out so the sofa could be utilized. But the furniture had been shifted, moved away from a corner in which a lump was abandoned. A lump formed in Molly's throat, full of disgust and fear. "Lumos," she whispered.

The beam of light stretched out across the floor, falling across the slumped figure. Smaller than Molly had ever seen her, Lily's bony figure was slumped against the corner, wearing a loose sweater from which bony elbows and collarbones protruded. Her hair was tangled and matted, a chunk cut away - Molly supposed this was where Molly had found her samples for her potion.

Molly stepped forward, heart pounding as she dropped to her knees to inspect her cousin. "Lily," she said, reaching out for her hands. She almost immediately withdrew at the sight, a horrified gasp escaping her lips. Around Lily's wrists were two handcuffs - Molly had seen them before. They were a special sort utilized by the Ministry, with an old fashioned key hole. Molly remembered her father talking about them when the had been created, how some thought they were a bit macabre, tightening and tightening the further a prisoner got from the person in their control.

The handcuffs had cut through most of the layers of Lily's wrist, dried blood caked around her wrists, bruising spreading out, her fingers almost blue from the lack of circulation. "Holy sh!t," Molly whispered, her voice betraying the tremor of terror she felt at knowing Roxi had allowed this to happen. That she had done it.

"Lily," Molly whispered, reaching out to tip Lily's chin up. Her head lolled heavily and Molly reached up to open one of Molly's eyes. Electric blues swirled within her natural brown. "F*cking b!tch," Molly murmured, shaking her head.

She turned to the boys. "She has her drugged. I need to pick this lock or it'll go right through her wrists." She reached up and pulled a bobby pin from her hair, bending it and inserting it into the keyhole. There was no way magic would work on the cuffs, she knew that. "We have to get her to Mungo's."

Apollo's eyes scanned the room, not fully comprehending what was before him until Christian came in and halted, staring at the two girls. Then, the elder brother's head swiveled enough for his gaze to catch, and there was nothing Christian could do to hold his brother back or calm him after that.

"Lil," he breathed, nearly crashing onto his knees next to her. Apollo's arm came around her shoulders, determined to keep her upright and still while Molly worked, and it was all he could do to not just stare at her in abject horror and fury. He expected her to move away, really, but wasn't sure he would let her at that point. He didn't think he could.

Christian looked to his brother, asking, "is it safe to apparate her there?"

Apollo, half shocked that his twin would turn to him for assistance about a girl he cared for, could only nod. When he found his breath again, he finally answered. "If held properly, yes. But we'll need to be careful."

After that, the boys did all they could to keep quiet. Or, well, Christian did at least. Apollo kept muttering things to Lily despite her unwitting nature just then. About how he had told her to come stay with them, but she hadn't. And how worried they had all been, but how glad he was that they'd found her. Christian didn't catch all of it - not most of it - but he was oddly proud of his brother just then. It wasn't every guy who genuinely cared about someone, and many didn't care so much as Apollo did about her. Did Apollo even realize? Christian wasn't sure, actually.

As for the man himself, Apollo felt absolutely fuming. The desired relationship was completely shoved from his mind, consciously, because all he wanted to do was charge down and hex Roxanne into next year. He didn't have that option because Lily didn't have that time for him to waste.

Once Molly has the handcuffs sorted out, he leaned in and uttered something to Lily that Christian couldn't catch. Not that she probably did, either, mind.

So Christian kept an eye on the door as his brother brought the frighteningly small girl to his chest and prepared to leave. Merlin, if someone came in, what would they think? Apollo knew better than to risk the chance of it, and made sure he had her securely before apparating away, his brother close behind.

Molly thought about darkness a lot. Her youth prompted a romanticism that only someone of few years might enjoy. Molly liked to think she didn't over-romanticize too horribly, as she had a level head and a logical mind. But she knew there was part of her that thought first of shadows, first of evil, first of corruption. But her reasons? Sure, she had been born into one of the cursed families, but she had been fairly safe, considering everything. The only darkness she had ever faced had always been internal, self-motivated.

But this was a darkness she had never seen before. Her own flesh and blood had done this to another member of her family. It was an act against self as well as against other, an act against someone striving towards redemption and healing.

But pondering it, thinking about it - that would do very little for Lily. So she worked, her fingers and wrists cramping as she worked quicker than ever before. There was a click and the handcuffs popped off. Molly grabbed the cuffs by its chain and threw it against the wall, getting the wicked thing as far from its victim as she could. She looked to the boys but they were already acting, Apollo scooping up Lily as Molly reached out and took the other brother's hand, apparating off to Mungo's.