Chapter 7
John's heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. As Vale's footsteps approached the door, a cold, visceral terror seized him. He didn't think; he simply wanted to be *anywhere* else. There was a sickening sensation of being squeezed through a very narrow rubber tube, a momentary void of air and light, and then—
THUD.
He was on his hands and knees on the cold tile of his own kitchen, several meters away from where he had been standing. Apparition. He'd done it, but the triumph was bitter in his mouth. He ran and left them behind.
'Fucking piece of shit, coward. You pathetic, useless coward,' he screamed at himself, his fingers clawing at the floor. The self-hate was a physical weight, crushing the breath from his lungs. He had memories of Adam, he should have seen this coming, he should have been prepared, he should have seen this coming.
He was supposed to be the protagonist. He should have planned about this and yet, when the wands were drawn,..when it really mattered….. he had vanished like a ghost. He turned his back away from his fallen father and his injured pregnant mother.
'Oh god! Oh god! Oh god! Tell me they are alright. They won't be killing them will they…'
"Mum…" tears streamed down like a river, his world changed overnight and he failed them.
"I am sorry Mum, Dad…I failed you..I am a bad son….I am sorry Adam, I couldn't live up to you….waaah…." He tried to scream to shout but no voice came out, he couldn't shout or scream, only air came out whenever he tried to speak. His Heart hammered against his chest, world seemed to spin around before..blurgh–
He vomited,and collapsed on the floor, still awake, just broken, just tired.
"I am sorry…..alina.I am sorry everyone"
The hallway was filled with silent cries and injured groans. He scrambled back toward the door, his legs shaking so violently he nearly collapsed. When he looked out, the wizards were gone. There was no trace of the men named Carrow or Vale.
Mr. and Mrs. Petrova were standing by Alina's body, but their faces were blank, masks of confused indifference. They looked at the battered girl on the floor as if she were a piece of furniture they didn't recognize. His father, Robert, was slowly pushing himself up, rubbing his temples with a dazed expression.
He felt relieved for a moment, only to realize….
'Obliviated,They were obliviated' John realized with a jolt of horror. They had wiped it all away. The truth of Alina's death, the magic, the assault—all gone.
Before he could spiral down on another bout of guilt, pain and misery, he saw Julie.
She was curled on her side, her face deathly pale, clutching her stomach. A dark, terrifying crimson stain was spreading rapidly across the front of her dress, pooling on the floor beneath her. She let out a low, ragged moan that broke the eerie stillness of the room.
"Mom!" John screamed, finding his voice at last. He lunged across the threshold, sliding on the floor to reach her side. "Dad, help! She's bleeding! The baby—she's in labor!"
Robert blinked, the fog of the Memory Charm momentarily at odds with the sight of his wife in agony. "Julie? What... what happened? Why are we..." Then, seeing the blood, the instinct of a husband and father overrode the magical haze. "Julie! Oh god, John, call an ambulance! Now!"
John's hands were covered in his mother's blood as he tried to support her head. Every sob from his mother felt like a lash against his soul. This was his fault. His cowardice, his world, his failure. The peace was gone, replaced by a nightmare of his own making.
"john..John..John" snapping him back from his thought his mother called him, "Don't worry John, everything will be alright don't be scared…Mum's gonna be alright..okay! Take care of yourself."
"Yes, yes mom nothing is gonna happen, I will go call an ambulance—"
"No need— I called, they are already on the way." said Mr Petrova.
For the first time since the beginning of this entire hazardous event he properly looked at the people around him going. Mr. Petrova had hollow eyes and a grim look on his face, moving through the sheer strength of not letting any other child get harmed in front of him.
Mrs.Olivera had finally left Alina's side and had moved to help mom beside me…. Dad had a shaken look, he was afraid but trying to appear calm for my mother.
Finally, ambulance arrived and mum was taken to hospital
***
The siren's wail was a jagged blade cutting through the night. John sat in the back of the ambulance, his hands still stained with the drying copper of his mother's blood.
Every jolt of the vehicle made Julie moan, a sound that felt like it was tearing John's heart out of his chest. Robert held her hand, his face a mask of frantic, confused devotion, his eyes constantly darting around as if trying to find the source of a memory that was no longer there.
At the hospital, the lights were blinding. Julie was whisked away behind double doors, leaving the men in a waiting room that felt like a vacuum.
Mr. Petrova sat in the corner, his hands clasped so tightly his knuckles were white. He didn't know why the world turned against him, first he failed as a father who couldn't make his daughter feel free enough to open up to him about her issues. He felt like if he had been a better father his daughter wouldn't have killed herself and now their neighbours, a familial connection formed by mutual respect and friendship also faces such a situation.
Why did God give up on himself? Does he even deserve to live anymore...
My head is spinning. Was there ... another man? A light? No, that's not right. We were just having dinner. Then Julie was on the floor.
Why can't I remember how she fell? I look at John, and he looks like he's aged a decade in an hour. His eyes are full of horror I don't understand.
I need to be strong for them, but my own mind feels so dulled, confused and sluggish ready to shatter at the slightest touch.
Hours bled into one another. A nurse finally emerged, her expression grim. "The trauma caused a placental abruption," she explained hurriedly. "We're performing an emergency C-section. Your wife is losing a lot of blood."
John slumped against the wall, the weight of his "magic" feeling like a curse. He had felt the magic, seen the wizards, and yet all his effort had resulted in a broken family and a coward's flight. He listened to the muffled chaos of the hospital, the frantic calls for blood, the rhythmic beeping of monitors.
Finally, a thin, fragile cry pierced the silence of the hallway.
It wasn't a robust scream, but a high-pitched, desperate mewling.
A doctor came out, exhausted but offering a small, tired smile. "It's a boy. He's very premature, but he's a fighter. We've stabilised the mother, though it was a close call. She's in recovery."
John was allowed into the ICU just after his father. He stood before a small plastic incubator. Inside lay a tiny, wrinkled being, connected to a web of tubes and wires. His brother. His little brother looked so small .
John reached out, his finger hovering just inches from the glass. The amber light flared deep in his eyes, more stable now, fueled by the promise he made to himself at that very moment looking at the tiny, rhythmic rise and fall of his baby brother's chest.
"I will protect you brother. "
'Never again, I will never run again, I will not let my family get hurt ever again.'