The Last Lieutenant

Damien

Charlie stumbles when their feet hit the hard packed earth of Damien's front drive, but Audra doesn't, just takes off down the road and leaves him to catch up.  It's a long walk from the barrier point to the actual house, so she knows that she'll have to make nice with Charlie eventually, but she wants to push it off for as long as she can, even if it only buys her a few seconds.

He catches up in a matter of moments, taking long, loping strides with his hands burned in his pockets.  Charlie shouldn't be handsome with all the burn marks scattering his skin, but he is, and there's an easy going nature about him that makes his appearance even sweeter. The easy going nature might have been why he doesn't hold it against her when they walk side by side again, bumping his should against hers.

Weasley's.  They're all so touchy.

"So you and Fred?"  

He's grinning at her, so she knows he's teasing, but she can't quite stomach it.  Audra's gotten used to pain- people being gentle around her has become a foreign concept.  "Don't pretend like you didn't see it coming."  She's good at acting, but it's exhausting to keep up the charade around people who she thought would be able to see right through it.  "How bout we walk in silence?"

She doesn't expect him to agree, but he does.

When she's standing on the steps of Damien's house, it aches with the feeling of home.  She had spent a good few weeks here, coming back into herself through the haze of her grief under his care.  Its a new kind of awful to bring this danger to his family after what he had done for her.

She knocks on the door, three sharp raps, and it swings open a second later.  At first she is greeted only by an overly excited black lab, but Damien's face pops around the corner as soon as he beats his dog (Lady) back into the house.  "Audra!"  He wraps her into a hug and she suffers through it, even though the unexpected touch of hands on her is like knives sliding on her skin.  "And another ginger!"  He squints up at Charlie, his eyes tracing the path across his face as he takes in all the scars.  "How many redheads are you friends with?"

"About three more," She admits, and then crouches down to pet the dog.  Lady had been her constant companion during her time here, babysitting her when she went on long walks through the woods at night.  "Are your parents here?  We've come to talk to you."

He seems to know, instinctively, that it was serious.  Damien leads them to the kitchen, and even though everyone else was sitting around the splintering table and sipping tea from chipping china, Audra stands guard by the fireplace.  She feels safer with her back against the wall.

Charlie did most of the talking.  He was good at that, sounding eloquent, forming the words that make a concrete reason for why they should join.  And Damien's family listens, his mother working a roll of bread dough under her hands, his father staring intently at Charlie, and Damien just looking down at the table.  "We need your help,"  Charlie finishes.  "We need to band together before he can separate us."

He does not say who "he" is.  There's no need for it.

"You want me to say that I'll help."  Damien's father pushed his cup away from him, and tea sloshed over the sides and soaked down into the wood.  "You want me to bring this war here, to my home, to my family.  And for what?  It's not here yet."

"You fought the last time."  He had told her that, his war stories.  She thinks that Damien had told him that she was grappling with guilt over turning her back on her family, even if they don't know the details, and maybe he wanted to let her know they all do bad things when it comes time for the fight.   "And that was too much for anyone, to fight once, let alone twice.  But trust me when I tell you that you're wrong.  The war isn't just coming.  It's already here."