Of Life, Love, Magic & War [A FBAWTFT FanFic]

Chapter 22: Ghosts

★ TRIGGER WARNING: Graphic depictions of child abuse, war, loss of life, and PTSD. ★

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Percival woke on Saturday morning to Edith's cat staring at him again from across the room with an ill-tempered look on its face. They watched each other for a moment before Percival stood and stretched trying to release the tension in his back and shoulders that had built up during the night as he slept in a chair. The summer had decided to be most unkind that day, the heat already sitting at an uncomfortable temperature as the sun broke free of the horizon.

He made his way to the kitchen sink, splashing cold water on his face and wiping down the back of his neck before he cast a charm on the kettle which floated over to the sink, filled itself with water, and set down on the stove which he had already lit. He stood next to the window and watched as dozens of No-Majs set up their businesses for the day before hoisting it open in an attempt to cool the apartment down. Next, Percival made his way over to Edith who was still secure in her robe but splayed out on her back having abandoned and kicked her blankets to a distant corner of the bed.

With nothing to do, he gave her owl a treat and a quick scratch on its head which it seemed to love, and finally pried open the second window next to her bed which didn't appear to have been moved in quite some time. When he checked Edith's temperature, she felt like a furnace so he took a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with cold water before dunking a clean washcloth into the liquid, ringing it out, and wiping the sweat from her brow. Percival stayed beside her for a while, using the rag to cool her fiery skin, trying to soothe the burn staining her cheeks as she slept because he knew she would protest the action when she woke.

After some time, he went back to the kitchen looking for something to feed her infernal cat but the creature again slunk back out the open window only to return home with a tasty dead something clutched in its jaws. Percival winced at the sight but at least the feline appeared self-sufficient and tidy, as it brought its breakfast to a dish on the floor in the corner of the room before finally feasting. If Henry had ever dared to do such a thing Percival's father would have put the crup out on the street like trash and as a result, his loyal companion only ate fresh ground meat from the butcher's shop.

Percival tried to ignore the wild fur ball as it ate, instead making tea and slicing up some bread to spread jam on and bringing it to Edith in bed. She whined and shrugged him off when he attempted to rouse her, gluing herself to the bed and groaning at the mention of any kind of food so he left it on the vanity beside her bed. He served himself a bowl of stew, eating alone at the table while she continued to sleep through the morning and he cleaned up after himself before again splashing his face and neck with water to cool himself down.

Edith finally woke when another fit ran through her body just before noon, startling Percival and causing him to drop the book he had taken from the pile on top of her wardrobe. She inhaled sharply seeking air while he rushed over and held her to keep her from hurting herself as she shook. Thankfully she didn't put up much of a fight and when it passed he gently laid her back onto the pillows as she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

"I can't take it." She mumbled breathlessly.

"You're going to be fine." He assured her, pushing the hair from her face.

"Of course, I will! No bloody fever is going to get the better of me." Edith hissed as she swatted his hand away.

"It just hurts." She croaked, turning her face away from him, chest rising and falling rapidly with her breathing.

"You could share it with me." He told her and as expected she hated the idea.

"I will do no such thing!" Edith declared.