Fallout [MAX]

[Rowena Jones]

The house was quiet. It always was. The isolation had been the main draw for Rowena. Miles away from any civilization, with only the constant babbling of the nearby brook to keep her company. Well that and the familiar raspy meow of the large ginger Maine Coon as she gazed mournfully at the pair approaching the faded green door of the cottage.

Blasket Island had been exactly what Rowena had needed after the fallout of the events all those months ago. Far away from anything she’d known before, a fresh start so that she could focus away from all the noise of her past. And far away enough from Max that she could try to mend her shattered heart.
And yet, here she was, said wizard in tow. It was as if they were tied together in all this madness. It didn’t matter how hard she tried to distance herself from him, they always came together in an explosion of insanity and left broken and bruised from the ordeal.

That being said, Max looked far worse for wear than she did. The only experience she’d had with him being this way was when he’d almost collapsed from over exposure back in Mungos during that stupid annual event. Merlin, that felt like a life time ago. Had it really only been less than a year?

She hadn’t really known what to do then and had relied on Albert and Milton to guide her through the attack. But this was different, his power had shifted from those innocent naïve days when all they’d thought about was who could best the other. What did she do now? She was exhausted too, her mind frayed but she quickly guided him to the worn sofa and cast a critical eye over him.

[Max Kameren]

The sudden apparition took Max by surprise and out of his panicked state. The light left him in a flash when Rowena grabbed him and spun and when they reappeared in an unfamiliar place Max’s eyes, though back to his usual color, were glazed over. With the light gone within him Max looked grey, his lips pale and fingers cold and clammy as Rowena led him by the hand toward a small cottage nearby. The world was moving too quickly. Max struggled to comprehend what was happening to him as he stumbled along, quietly heaving shallow breaths.

When they paused to open the front door Max noticed he was shivering in his shoulders, and looked down to see his pale fingers shaking, independent of feeling. He tucked his numb hands under his arms in an attempt to cover the shaking. Clumsily he followed Rowena into the cottage, looking down at another stumble to see his knees where shaking too.

Being defense meant taking the brunt of an attack to protect his friends, he’d expected a degree of traumatic shock. But he was so cold, and the shaking was more than he’d expected if he was simply shaken up. When a wave of dizziness and nausea overtook him it started to dawn on him what was happening.

When the Light had left him it had been the only thing holding up the scaffolding of his body, having spent himself trying to protect his friends in battle. He’d overextended and now something was wrong; when he came down all his energy had drained. He fell backwards onto the couch with little prompt from Rowena, staring through her without focus.

He could feel her eyes boring into him. Her worry and confusion emanated off of her in wafts alternating with unbridled anger. Max turned to her and tried to speak, but there wasn’t enough air in his lungs to propel sound. Instead he wheezed, brow furrowing in confusion as he tried to figure out another way to communicate.

Without acknowledgement Max nearly melted off the couch, limply reorienting himself to lie on the floor and elevate his feet to keep his circulation central. He’d spent too much energy and overexerted himself: with his added lanky height he’d hedge a safe bet on circulatory stress. From the new angle below her Max looked up at her expectantly, lifting his shaky right hand and pressing his wrist with two of his quivering left fingers to indicate his pulse. His pules was nearly non-existent.

He held the pose as long as he could before his eyes fluttered closed, comforted by the start of realization and flurry of activity that jumpstarted Rowena’s aura.

[Rowena Jones]

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Had she really just bargained for his protection only for him to go into Circulatory Shock in her living room? Rowena really shouldn't have expected anything different really. Nothing had ever been simple when it came to Mam Kameren. But at least now she knew what to do. She internally berated herself for taking so long to recognise the signs. That it had taken Max extending himself further to tell her what was wrong was in excusable... and Rowena was sure that if he were up to it, he'd be giving her no amount of crap for it. She would if the positions were reversed. The witch wished they were. She hated seeing him like this. Her Max wasn't supposed to be weakened and damaged... but then again, he wasn't her Max anymore. Hadn't been for a while now.

Focus. Merlin it was so hard to summon the energy to throw herself back into this Healer mode again, to bring all the relevant knowledge to the front. For months she'd thought only of her plan, the sacrifice she was willing to give to save all others. There'd been no thought of healing in all those lonely moments. And yet, now she needed it more than ever. She flat out refused to lose him now after all that they'd survived.

Her wand twirled, a new wonderful thing, crafted from the same wood the druids had grown from that sapling she'd once found in a hidden cave. The same wood with which she'd attempted and almost succeeded in passing as the legendary Shield. Golden threads surrounded Max, a spell of Rowena's own invention that allowed Healers to follow the internal goings on of the body, a 3D copy of all those spidery veins and arteries and there, the heart, struggling to pump sufficient blood supply around her patient's body. The rhythm was off and Rowena could already see how little was getting to his extremities. She was lucky he'd fixed his positioning, ensuring the blood remained in his most vital organs but if she didn't hurry position alone wouldn't be enough.

Rowena modified the spell slightly so that she could hear the unsteady thump of his heart as she rushed to another room to collect what she needed. Her own heart felt shaky as she anxiously shoved boxes aside to find the few potions she always kept on hand. A glass shattered and she cursed as she cut her bare foot on the pieces. She hadn't even stopped to rectify her one shoe situation but there was no time as a shrill beep sounded through the cottage.

"Don't you dare give up on me now Kameren," Rowena yelled as she sweept up all the vials on the shelf and rushed back to the living room.

His skin was ashen, his green gaze hidden from her and when she touched his skin, he was icy cold but still his heart beat. Too slow though. Much too slow. "Hold on... please..." she whispered as she poured several potions down his throat, massaging gently at his throat to encourage him to swallow even if his mostly unconscious state.

The required five second wait was the longest in Rowena's entire life. She was sure that any one of those seconds would signal Max's last breath, but finally she counted five and in that second she placed her hands on his chest, above his heart and released the last bit of magic she had within her. The shock raced through her touch and into him and she winced at the arch of his body. With no power left, her previous spell had faded and so she was forced to resort to Muggle means to check his pulse.

Her fingers reached for his wrist and she almost collapsed with relief at the thump thump thump she felt. Slowly, so bloody slowly, his skin pinked up, losing the grey of death that had followed them too long this evening. Rowena waited a few more minutes to be sure that the blood was flowing correctly before she re-positioned Max more comfortably. And then she too slumped to the ground, a sideways glance at her ex as he joined the land of the living once again.

"Don't even think about going anywhere Kameren. If you move even an inch I'll kill you myself. "

[Max Kameren]

It couldn’t end like this. Max refused to die upside-down on the floor of his ex-girlfriend’s cottage, having overspent himself working for the aurors. The last few months had turned him into everything he dreaded becoming as an adult: namely, his father. Max had spent his adolescence trying to avoid this: dying young trying to recreate the legacy of his parent. The irony hadn’t escaped him that he was now the same age his father had been when he nearly died in the War. Somehow Fate had crumpled his intentions and thrown him into conflict regardless.

Max’s eyes fluttered closed and his hands fell back to his shuddering chest but he didn’t lose his grip on consciousness fully when he felt the footsteps of his ex-girlfriend rumble past him. He followed the radio signal of her panic around the house, quietly urging her onward. She could do this, he knew. He was in good hands. He may not trust Rowena with much anymore, but he could trust her to heal him. There was no more diligent Healer than her. All his self-assurances felt as weak as his heartbeat when uncertainty wafted off her in her return.

"Hold on... please..." she whispered as she poured several potions down his throat, massaging gently at his throat to encourage him to swallow even if his mostly unconscious state. Max swallowed, feeling the warm current of the liquids activating each other as they entered his system. The feeling dissipated but Max felt no different, his chest still heaving for breath and his limbs still tingling in search of circulation. He didn’t know what Rowena gave him but it wasn’t working.

A weak hand reached for her but Rowena was already ahead of him, kneeling over him and placing her hands on his chest. Max realized what she was doing a split-second before the shock went through him. Max’s yell was more a bark of surprise than a scream of pain as the spell served its purpose and restarted his failing heart. It was like she’d kicked him in the chest with all her weight and Max writhed, finally going limp laying on his side facing Rowena.

When she grabbed his hand to take his pulse Max’s fingers wrapped around her wrist and lightly squeezed in silent thanks. He looked up at her through cold-sweat-soaked strands of hair and coughed, trying slowly to breathe color back into his cheeks. Within a few minutes the chill and shakes subsided as his body came back online. His last deep breath was a sigh of relief, closing his eyes and bowing his head. He couldn’t believe how close he’d come.

"Don't even think about going anywhere Kameren. If you move even an inch I'll kill you myself."

“Couldn’t if I wanted to,” He croaked, pushing himself back onto his back as she slumped to his level on the floor. Now that they were face-to-face she was too close for comfort; the way she lay next to him Max could feel the heat off her skin. The pressure of her fingers still felt indented in his wrist. It was a sour kind of familiarity; closer than he’d been to Rowena in weeks, but everything was different. Her fury with him still burned in the background of her aura, singing his consciousness like the Dark Lady’s spells nearly had.

“Eden!” The battle came suddenly surging back to him and Max jolted upright, only to be pushed back down by Rowena and a stabbing pain within his chest. “Is Eden alright? Briar? Emory…” Max covered his face in his hands and his chest shuddered as his pulse rose again from reliving the evening in his mind. He would never forget the burning in Emory’s aura. “God, I fucked this up.”

[Rowena Jones]

“Couldn’t if I wanted to,”

Did that mean he didn’t want to… Oh no. No no no. She was not going to go down that road. Not even if the sudden realization of how close Max actually was made her long for those days where she would curl up in his arms and soak up the comfort that he provided. She should move away, remove herself from the temptation, but Merlin, she was just so damn tired.

“Eden!” For fuck’s sake. Rowena growled angrily in warning as she pushed Max back down. He really didn’t listen to a word she said did he? What part of ‘don’t move’ was hard to understand?!

“Is Eden alright? Briar? Emory… God, I fucked this up.”

Rowena snorted in disbelief. “You think?” she asked sarcastically embracing that familiar temper that loved to flare in Max’s presence. It was so much better than the alternative of mooning over lost potential. “What were you thinking? Four people against her?! How did you see that working?! What were you even doing?”

It wasn’t often that Rowena actually thought Max was an idiot – a royal pain in her arse sure, but she’d never actually thought him to be actually stupid. Tonight had proved otherwise. Just thinking about the turn of events that evening had her sighing in despair and anger burning in her chest.

She suddenly noticed the too quick rise and fall of his chest and bit her lip to keep from berating him further. As much as she might want to wring him out for fucking up her plans in the most spectacular way, he was her patient right now, and she did not have the energy to deal with another relapse. “Calm down Max. Eden will be fine. I sent them all to Mungos. They’ll get whatever treatment needed… and I’m sure your department knows what went on by now.” She hated that he now worked with the Aurors and it was apparent in her tone. “Just, breathe. Please.”

[Max Kameren]

“God, I fucked this up.”

Rowena snorted in disbelief. “You think?” Rowena’s fury seemed to amplify Max’s agitation and he turned to her with a glare, welcoming the roiling clouds of her aura turning from pining to rage. They were safer this way, at each other’s throats. “What were you thinking? Four people against her?! How did you see that working?! What were you even doing?”

“I wasn’t there to stop her I was there to stop you.” Max snapped, his voice rising to the protestation of his chest. He'd told the aurors otherwise, but he figured of all people Rowena would remember their conversation. “You show up at my desk a month ago, tell me you’re planning to kill yourself and leave behind a note with a time and place! What do you bloody expect me to do?!”

The variable he hadn’t accounted for was Emory. The druid’s ulterior motives with the Shield, let alone his secret custody of the Staff, threw a wrench into Max’s plans that they never recovered from. Max had had to start out on the back foot, fighting for their lives rather than acting as distraction and deterrent. Emory’s reaction had cost them the Staff and the battle, but the druid himself had paid the ultimate price.

“Calm down Max. Eden will be fine. I sent them all to Mungos. They’ll get whatever treatment needed… and I’m sure your department knows what went on by now.”

“Oh, fuck off.” This infuriating woman! She’ll disappear, neglect contact and then blame him for seeking refuge with the only organization he could reach out to with the resources to keep his family safe. “You left. You disappeared – “ Max put up a shaky finger to stop Rowena before she could try to cut him off “I’m not talking about when you were attacked I’m talking about after – and you left me no way of getting in contact with you. Warghollow’s still sending threats, the Shadowloved are still showing up on people’s doorsteps and I have a rune-shaped target on my chest. Going back to my regular wasn’t an option anymore. I had to join the Ministry.”

“Just, breathe. Please.”

“No.” Max rasped, only complying to her wishes when he felt the tightening in his chest and the ceiling start to spin. He took a moment to breathe, green eyes boring into the ceiling above them. The humidity rose in the living room beneath his simmering temper, the dam finally breaking after months of holding back. “I’m trying to survive, Ro. I wish you’d do me the same bloody courtesy.”

[Rowena Jones]

“I wasn’t there to stop her I was there to stop you.” Max snapped, ignoring Rowena’s golden glare. “You show up at my desk a month ago, tell me you’re planning to kill yourself and leave behind a note with a time and place! What do you bloody expect me to do?!”

“Oh you’re so fucking dramatic. One, I didn’t announce that I’m planning on offing myself, just that it was an unfortunate consequence of events beyond our control. Two, I did not leave that note behind for you. You weren’t supposed to ever see it. And three, I expect you to leave bloody well alone and not interfere when you know nothing!”

Their mutual emotions were heating up the small space and Rowena noticed that his breathing wasn’t steady enough. Damnit, the man couldn’t even let himself heal properly before picking a fight.

“Calm down Max. Eden will be fine. I sent them all to Mungos. They’ll get whatever treatment needed… and I’m sure your department knows what went on by now.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Or not then. Stupid snarly impossible man! She was about to point out that he actually needed to calm down but apparently he had more to say.

“You left. You disappeared. I’m not talking about when you were attacked I’m talking about after – and you left me no way of getting in contact with you. Warghollow’s still sending threats, the Shadowloved are still showing up on people’s doorsteps and I have a rune-shaped target on my chest. Going back to my regular wasn’t an option anymore. I had to join the Ministry.”

And there was no way she was going to let all those accusations go without fixing his ridiculous ideas.

“Oh because you made such an effort. You knew what I’d gone through, and you can feel it! But you walked away too Max. You walked away and didn’t look back once. So don’t you dare pin all this on me. And I know that you’re all still in danger. Which is exactly what I was trying to fix. And it would have bloody worked if you had just stayed away. But noooo, hero Max just has to get involved and now she knows what you are and it doesn’t matter what I made her promise, she’ll find a way to get you. You had plenty of choices Max. You just don’t trust that sometimes other people know better than you!”

She paused for breath and growled at the continued unsteady rise and fall of his chest.

“Now will you just, breathe? Please.”

“No.” Rowena threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. Healer’s… or at least former Healers really did make the worst patients. Or maybe that was just Max. Fortunately, it seemed his body was going to make him do as she asked and there was a slight lull in their conversation as he sucked in air.

“I’m trying to survive, Ro. I wish you’d do me the same bloody courtesy.”

“You’re trying to survive?! That’s what you’re calling rushing the most powerful dark witch in recent history? Surviving?!” Rowena scoffed. “At least I’m not kidding myself Max. And what does it matter, why do you care so bloody much?! You have everybody still, all these people who love you and need you and I’m trying to make sure you get to keep those people, that you will still be around to enjoy a life with them. You hated me a year ago so why do you have to care now, when I don’t want you to anymore?”

Her own chest was rising and falling quickly now with the force of her anger. It was so hard to control herself around him. She knew that she shouldn’t be yelling at him, the man had almost just gone into organ failure, but argh! He was just so infuriating!

A soft chirp of a meow preceded a furry orange head as Pumpkin came to investigate the commotion. At the sight of Max, the feline started to purr and demand attention from the wizard and Rowena scoffed. “Of course!” she muttered. The cat hadn’t purred like that for months, instead just staring forlornly at her owner when awake as if Rowena had done something terrible. She’d assumed the cat was just mourning the loss of her brother but apparently not.

“I’m getting some tea. Do you want some?” she asked angrily, pushing herself up from her collapsed position on the floor. Rowena winced as she put her foot on the ground. She’d forgotten about the shattered glass, some shards must still be in the soft flesh of her foot, but damnit she couldn’t spend another second that close to Max. She limped towards the kitchen and put the kettle on before falling onto a wooden chair and twisting her foot into her lap to study it closer.

[Max Kameren]

“Oh because you made such an effort. You knew what I’d gone through, and you can feel it! But you walked away too Max. You walked away and didn’t look back once.”

“Where was I supposed to look back to? I wrote you letters and couldn’t send them! I told you that night and you were going on with this same bullshit! You’re not saving me by pushing me away, you’re raking yourself over the coals for guilt over what someone else has done! You’re not your sister Rowena. Turning yourself into a martyr won’t redeem what she’s done.” He spoke over Rowena, accenting the heat in the room with the rising sound of their bickering voices. Max knew what was coming, he knew her script by now. He knew the same argument they’d been having for months, both the few times they saw each other and quietly on their own.

“So don’t you dare pin all this on me. And I know that you’re all still in danger. Which is exactly what I was trying to fix. And it would have bloody worked if you had just stayed away. But noooo, hero Max just has to get involved and now she knows what you are and it doesn’t matter what I made her promise, she’ll find a way to get you. You had plenty of choices Max. You just don’t trust that sometimes other people know better than you!”

“I can block her shadows. I can’t block you.” His eyes narrowed and his breathing started to exaggerate into hyperventilating gasps. His left hand moved to his opposite wrist, trying to take measure of his pulse to feel for warning signs of a relapse. He didn’t want her touching him, not right now.

“Now will you just, breathe? Please.”

“No.” Max’s body made him pause, taking a long moment to breathe before he continued. “I’m trying to survive, Ro. I wish you’d do me the same bloody courtesy.”

“You’re trying to survive?! That’s what you’re calling rushing the most powerful dark witch in recent history? Surviving?!” Rowena scoffed. “At least I’m not kidding myself Max […] You hated me a year ago so why do you have to care now, when I don’t want you to anymore?”

“Because we both know you’re lying.” Max had gone on this insane expedition because he was losing someone. No one set Max off the way she did. It wasn’t hatred that struck such a nerve. Max focused on his breathing, keeping his eyes forward on the ceiling to avoid Rowena’s reaction. With their combined tempers and powers they were tinder and flint. Too many sparks and they’d ignite.

Chrp. The tension in the room was suddenly offset by the appearance of a fluffy ginger cat. Pumpkin wandered over to Max, purring contentedly and quickening her pace to instigate a running headbutt into Max’s face. The resulting surprised chuckle sounded more like a gruff bark under the tension in his chest. “Of course!” she muttered. Max’s surprised chuckle grew into a bitter laugh that caused him to shudder with the pain. It was worth it to bother Rowena.

“I’m getting some tea. Do you want some?” she asked angrily

“Yes, please.” He replied through grit teeth. Her exit would give him a welcome moment of calm, to recollect himself to heal. Or to prepare ammunition for round two. By the time she’d returned with mugs for them Max had moved to the couch, reclining as far back into the corner as his height would let him with Pumpkin purring happily on his lap. “How’s your foot?” His green eyes glanced from her to the floor, where footprints of red followed her track from the kitchen and back again. “Do you need help?”

[Rowena Jones]

“Because we both know you’re lying.”

She wasn’t. Well perhaps she was about how she felt about him; even now with rage simmering between them, there was a familiar ache in her chest and the emotion she refused to acknowledge beat at the walls she’d built up. Rowena might lie about the fact that she still spent every lonely night wishing that he was there to hold her but she really did wish he wouldn’t care for her, not if it put him in harm’s way. She just wasn’t worth it. People around her got hurt. It was just a fact these days. She was better off alone. She was better off gone.

He would move on, one day he would find someone who wouldn’t test his patience at every occasion, who wouldn’t be completely baffled at his distaste for what Rowena thought was undoubtedly the best food in the world, someone who would make him laugh and who most certainly wouldn’t put him in harm’s way.
How was it possible to be both in love and so furiously angry with someone at the same time?! Just looking at him, his green gaze pointedly avoiding her golden one made her want to strangle him. How could he be so utterly infuriating?

Pumpkin’s arrival and subsequent joy at the sight of her apparently favourite person only fueled Rowena’s anger and she huffed at Max’s laugh. Did he even know what that cat had been like all these months? She was shameless too, rubbing herself all over the wizard in greeting. Rowena rolled her eyes. She needed some space.

“I’m getting some tea. Do you want some?” she asked angrily, limping to the kitchen.

“Yes, please.”

The whistle of the old iron kettle drowned out the confusing mess of thoughts and emotions in Rowena’s head as she studied the small bits of glass in her foot, before slowly extracting them. Blood welled in their place, the witch wiping at it impatiently. She was too tired to do more than that and her magic was still running on empty. None of the glass had gone too deep. The blood would stop eventually.

She reached up to grab two mugs and quietly served the tea, still stewing over the evening’s events and the fact that Max was currently sitting in her living room, the one place she’d swore he’d never be. She placed the drinks on a tray along with a small plate of ginger biscuits- store bought of course, her cooking skills remained on level inedible- and a small pot of honey.

Rowena had to force herself to leave the safety of the kitchen. She wasn’t sure where this evening was taking her, but Max wouldn’t be able to leave until morning at the very least and every second with him nearby frayed her already weak control over her emotions.

The witch cursed as she noted his new seating arrangement. “Seriously, Max, what part of don’t move do you not understand?!” she muttered, glaring at him as she walked in. The living room was sparse, never intended for visitors, with just the worn but comfy sofa and the small side table on which she placed the tray. The walls were lined with bookcases and a small fireplace sat unlit on the far wall. Rowena handed her ex-boyfriend his tea and quickly grabbed one of the plump cushions from the sofa before plopping herself down on the floor as far away as she could get from him in the small space.

“How’s your foot?”

Of course he’d noticed. Rowena was silent as she spooned several large helpings of honey into her tea before taking a biscuit and nibbling on it while the drink cooled.

“Do you need help?”

“I think you’ve done enough ‘helping’ for one night,” she snapped before she could stop herself. Apparently, the brief interlude had done nothing to tame her temper. She sighed, rubbing at her face tiredly, “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t. He deserved her yelling and much more after the fiasco he’d caused. But he was still recovering and she really didn’t want him around longer than he had to be. Being around Max was just a disaster waiting to happen, one way or the other.

“How are you feeling? You’ll have to wait until morning to go back to England I’m afraid. Neither of us is up to travelling that far again tonight. You can have the bed, you’ll at least fit in it,” she said pointedly looking at his lanky frame that was spilling over the edges of the too small sofa.

[Max Kameren]

As soon as Rowena padded into the kitchen Max pushed himself up, slowly rotating his body and lifting himself onto the couch. They were in for a long night, he might as well get comfortable. There was no escape. He knew he couldn’t apparate in this condition or he’d risk another cardiac event. And something was… off with Rowena’s magic, even more than usual. It was apparent in how she healed him and how she acted now, limping back to the kitchen with a bloody footprint following behind.

Pumpkin hopped up onto the couch soon after Max and settled in on his lap. Max stroked her head absent-mindedly, staring off in his own world as he heard the familiar clatter of a tea kettle and the hiss of water beginning to boil. It was jarringly domestic, to jump from an ambush in Nottingham to a near-death experience on her living-room floor to passive-aggressive tea for two.

The tired calm of their momentary stalemate was slashed by Rowena’s aura when she re-entered and found Max on the couch. Her annoyance struck him like an electric charge and snapped him out of his tired trance, his eyes moving from the bloody footprints back up to the woman who made them. “Seriously, Max, what part of don’t move do you not understand?!”

“How’s your foot?” Naturally she took the most mature option available and ignored him, spooning what Max would argue was too much honey into her tea. Somehow even how she prepared her tea was annoying. Max cupped his mug in his hands to warm his still-clammy fingers. He could see the wound from where she sat: still open, still bleeding. He arched an irritated brow as she nibbled on a biscuit, ignoring him. “Do you need help?”

“I think you’ve done enough ‘helping’ for one night,” she snapped before she could stop herself. Max rolled his eyes but conceded her point. He couldn’t very well argue that the night had gone anyone’s way but the Shadowloved. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.” He replied tiredly. He blew on his tea to cool it with a spell before taking a sip.

“How are you feeling? You’ll have to wait until morning to go back to England…”

Through Rowena’s commentary Max shook his head, grimace deepening with her mention of him sleeping in her bed. He definitely wouldn’t be going near her bed, leg cramps be damned. “No, we’re not doing that. You pulled me here to talk so let’s bloody talk. And don’t start in telling me to stop what I’m doing - we’re past that, I’m not hiding in some hole until you’ve deemed it safe for me to exist again. Even if you don’t think you need me, the others do.” He took a long sip of his tea as he waited for the initial bombardment of frustration in Rowena’s aura to pass. Max didn’t want to start yelling again. Mainly, he didn’t want to go into circulatory shock again. Merlin only knew how many more of those potion vials she had left.

“I’ll start: what did you do back there, at the Conservatory? What was that ritual? How was she using your power, and why? What do you mean when you say she knows ‘what’ I am? What am I?”

[Rowena Jones]

“No, we’re not doing that. You pulled me here to talk so let’s bloody talk. And don’t start in telling me to stop what I’m doing - we’re past that, I’m not hiding in some hole until you’ve deemed it safe for me to exist again. Even if you don’t think you need me, the others do.”

Not doing what? Getting better so that he could throw himself back into harm’s way again? It was just a bed for fuck’s sake. Why did he have to be so contrary?! Rowena was fast becoming tempted to just knock her ex-boyfriend out so that he would shut up and do as she asked. While she was at it, she could just keep him unconscious until all this mess was over… oh it was so very very tempting, it would solve all her problems… but then she supposed the Kameren horde would start poking around trying to find the prodigal son and she’d have no peace.

“Actually I pulled you here to save your life,” she muttered under her breath. Which she’d done and he’d repaid that debt by giving her the beginnings of a monstrous headache. Rowena rubbed at her temples to try and chase it away before taking a cautious sip of her tea. She smiled at the sweetness of the drink and leaned back against the wall in an attempt to get more comfortable.

“I’ll start: what did you do back there, at the Conservatory? What was that ritual? How was she using your power, and why? What do you mean when you say she knows ‘what’ I am? What am I?”

Rowena rolled her eyes. Merlin, he really didn’t know anything did he? The night’s events seemed even crazier now.

“You really don’t know?” she asked incredulously. She had assumed he’d at least guessed a little, he referred to himself as a shield after all. “The stone, the staff,” there was a small growl as she counted the second object out on her fingers; she still couldn’t believe that her sister had it, “…and the shield.” She finished pointing directly at him.

“I tried to trick her into believing that that was the shield,” Rowena continued, signaling the bag she’d thrown into the corner, “it had enough of a powerful energy that it worked… until you showed up and blew all that to smithereens. The glowing blue eyes were a bit of a giveaway oddly enough. She would never have needed to know what you were, she would have gone for the final ritual without all the parts and then I could have…” the witch trailed off. She knew how Max felt about the finality of her plan. He didn’t need to know the details.

“The ritual was…” Rowena looked down, fiddling with the hem of her robe. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d bargained for his safety. It was too transparent, gave away her feelings in a way that she wasn’t comfortable with. “… It was a promise, an exchange. I’ve known she wanted my magic since last year, so now she has it. If I deny it to her, the ritual will, it will have unpleasant side effects.” Like her death. A very awful, burning, slow agonizing death. Rowena tried not to think about it, hiding the pained twist of her face behind her mug as she took another sip of tea.

Time to change the subject. “How’s the stone going? Is it almost finished?”

[Max Kameren]

“I’ll start: what did you do back there, at the Conservatory? What was that ritual? How was she using your power, and why? What do you mean when you say she knows ‘what’ I am? What am I?”

“You really don’t know?” she asked incredulously. Max blinked, staring at her expectantly. “The stone, the staff… and the shield.” She finished pointing directly at him.

Max hung his head at her gesture. Truthfully he’d been asking more as a last hope that the whispered suspicion in the back of his mind was wrong. It all made too much sense. He was a perfectly fine duelist, but when he’d started leaning into his Empathy and relegating himself to protection he’d tapped into something wholly different. It was more than him, as evidenced by his cardiac episode it was more even than his body could sustain. It also explained why Fate seemed to be tying his hands and leading him into battle, somehow more trapped the more he fought. He had no agency. He wasn’t a player in the game; he was an object of power.

“I tried to trick her into believing that that was the shield […] she would have gone for the final ritual without all the parts and then I could have…”

“The ritual.” Max interrupted, changing the subject. They both already knew where the other stood on the end of Rowena’s plan. Both knew discussing it would be bad for his heart.

“The ritual was… It was a promise, an exchange. I’ve known she wanted my magic since last year, so now she has it. If I deny it to her, the ritual will, it will have unpleasant side effects.”

One could only imagine what the exchange was for. Max took in an agitated breath to start another argument, but a stuttering in his chest kept his tongue behind his teeth. Suddenly a memory pushed itself to the forefront of Max’s mind and he fell into a familiar cadence: after the War during Max’s run of night terrors, Max and his father had been subjected to several months of family therapy at the urging of his mum and Arianna. The lack of enthusiasm between them for the idea led to it being fruitless and quickly discarded, but there was one thing Max learned: how to communicate his feelings as clinically as possible.

He sighed heavily in an attempt to swallow his temper, fingers scratching rhythmically between Pumpkin’s ears as he tried to phrase his reply in an even tone: “I feel like… you should have talked to someone about this before you made the promise. If I knew I was the Shield, I could have done things differently. We’ve spent months learning to protect ourselves from Shadows and now she has a whole new method of attack I can’t shield from.”

As much as Rowena was upset with Max’s plans counteracting hers, even if Rowena’s plan had gone smoothly it would have destroyed the protections they were engineering to keep the rest of the Wizarding World safe. The work they’d spent months on was obsolete over the course of a single evening. When Max returned they would have to go back to square one, figuring out what exactly the Dark Lady had done to Emory and how to defend from it.

“For the last six months we’ve been attacking separately and it’s resulted in us ruining each others’ plans more than the Shadowloved.” Max looked down into his tea; for some reason even this felt like putting himself out there for rejection again. After months of being cut off from contact even this felt too intimate. “We need to start collaborating. Especially if I’m the Shield. I need to know more about what that means. What I need to do about it. You know more than I do.”

“How’s the stone going? Is it almost finished?”

There was the thorn in his side. The Stone had been Max’s only objective for over two months now, sacrificing his health and sanity to feed its hunger for a soul. He’d had to stop feeding it a few days before the ambush to preserve his energy, but in the last few weeks it had stopped showing signs of growth when he fed it. Cain said that meant it was starting to stabilize. It would be ready soon, but Max was still very protective of it. It was part of him, after all. It was made from him.

But if he was the Shield and all the objects needed to be together for the prophecy to take place, maybe it was better off far away from him. Max bit his lip, conflicted by her question after what he’d claimed. They did need to start working together. He did need to put space between himself and the Stone. But not if Rowena was planning to hurt herself in any way.

“It’s nearly finished.” Max sighed tiredly, setting down the mug quietly and meeting her eyes. He wanted her to know how serious he was: Max had put everything into that object, entrusting it to her meant something to him. He wasn’t trying to be petty or vindictive in denying her of it. If she used something he’d gone through so much pain for to hurt herself he would forever feel responsible. “Swear on what we’ve meant to each other that you won’t use it to deliberately put yourself in harm’s way. Then we can talk about it.”

[Rowena Jones]

I feel like… you should have talked to someone about this before you made the promise….”

Rowena raised an eyebrow in Max’s direction as he spoke. What was he doing? Potions Master, Defense Consultant for the Ministry and now apparently, Therapist. “Oh well in that case, I feel like… I did try to talk to you and you were as stubborn as always and didn’t want to hear a word I said. I believe you implied I was spouting rubbish,” she replied snarkily. “Merlin’s balls, don’t start with the psychobabble bullshit. We’re not in bloody counselling…”

If Max was trying to calm her frazzled emotions by speaking in such a way, he was failing miserably. Rowena scowled at her now empty mug. She needed something to occupy her hands or she might still just end up strangling her guest. “Yes, I’ve given her a new means of attacking but she wasn’t ever supposed to bloody need to use it until … you know. If you hadn’t shown up then it wouldn’t have been an issue. Now she knows how effective it is against you, sure, it’s a problem but it shouldn’t have been. Not if you’d just stayed away like I’ve been constantly asking you to do!” Rowena ground out through gritted teeth.

“For the last six months we’ve been attacking separately and it’s resulted in us ruining each others’ plans more than the Shadowloved.” Rowena bit her lip to keep herself from interrupting. She hadn’t been attacking, she’d been quick to see that fighting them just ended in death. With this enemy, one had to be smarter than that, had to think on a longer term strategy. She wanted to point that out, but now that he was talking more like the Max she knew and less like some professional stranger, the tension in the room had changed.

She didn’t like it. It was dangerous and exactly what she’d been trying to avoid every time she had come face to face with him. The witch shifted awkwardly but the wall behind her stopped her from moving and further away. “We need to start collaborating. Especially if I’m the Shield. I need to know more about what that means. What I need to do about it. You know more than I do.”

Oh no. Rowena’s eyes widened at that particular statement. Collaborating?! That was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid all those months ago when she’d told him it was over between them. And if this evening was anything to go by, she’d been right to do it. All that fighting and anger and yet here she was feeling things she really didn’t want to be feeling. Frustration might have won out so far, but there had been too many times where she’d wanted to tease him instead, relax into that familiar banter they’d always had. She’d been horrified at herself when she’d almost stuck her tongue out at him at his therapist speech. What was she? A child?! Damnit, why was he being so bloody reasonable all of a sudden? It was so much easier when he was yelling and saying perfectly stupid things. She just needed to focus again, rile him up. And what better subject than the object he was so fiercely protective of?

“How’s the stone going? Is it almost finished?”

“It’s nearly finished.” Max sighed tiredly, setting down the mug quietly and meeting her eyes.

Fucking damnit!!! It had worked so well last time. He’d almost dueled her right there and then had his ghostly relative not intervened. And here he was looking at her so seriously, not a spark of that anger to be seen.

“Swear on what we’ve meant to each other that you won’t use it to deliberately put yourself in harm’s way. Then we can talk about it.”

The pained squeal of desperation that escaped Rowena’s lips had her burying her face in her hands. She couldn’t do this, not after this evening. She wasn’t ready, hadn’t prepared for such a conversation. It had been a mistake to bring him here, but damnit, her stupid heart had been unable to leave him in that state. And now, here she was paying so dearly for that moment of weakness.

“You know I can’t do that Max,” she mumbled into her arms, still refusing to look at him. “I’ve spent months planning this, it’s already too far gone. This is the only way…”

Did he really think she wanted this? That she wanted to die? Only a few months ago, she’d seen a whole happy life for herself, one where she grew old and enjoyed her life to the fullest… with him by her side. But then the truth had come out and she’d realised that her life had never been her own to enjoy. So much of it had been trickery and she hadn’t been able to separate the truth from the lies. Rowena didn’t know how to start again with that knowledge, and a big part of her didn’t want to. No, if she could make sure that it ended with her, then she could be happy knowing that she had made that choice at least.

“Don’t you see Max, I’m already in harm’s way. Tonight was the moment of no return. When the time comes, I won’t let her use me, not in the way she wants… but that will kill me. There’s no way around that. The ritual is binding. But it should be enough. It will give you a window. And then you’ll be free from all this…”

[Max Kameren]

“Merlin’s balls, don’t start with the psychobabble bullshit. We’re not in bloody counselling…”

“I’m trying not to have a bloody heart attack Rowena! Humor me.” He snapped at the bristling of her aura. He hadn’t asked to be brought here, she could have taken to Mungo’s if she was going to strand him then resent his presence.

Rowena scowled at her now empty mug. “Yes, I’ve given her a new means of attacking but she wasn’t ever supposed to bloody need to use it until … you know. If you hadn’t shown up then it wouldn’t have been an issue. Now she knows how effective it is against you, sure, it’s a problem but it shouldn’t have been. Not if you’d just stayed away like I’ve been constantly asking you to do!”

“I might have, if you’d told me anything about your plan like I’ve been constantly asking you to.” That was unlikely, he knew. But if she’d told him she was planning to sign away her power to the Dark Lady Max could have told her about his own newly-developed skills and maybe they would both be more prepared now. “Look Ro, For the last six months we’ve been attacking separately and it’s resulted in us ruining each others’ plans more than the Shadowloved. We need to start collaborating. Especially if I’m the Shield. I need to know more about what that means. What I need to do about it. You know more than I do.”

At that suggestion he felt the fizzle and spark of Rowena’s inner conflict and sighed tiredly. With the adrenaline of the last few hours fading Max was drained. He didn’t have the energy for another row on the level of their earlier one. “How’s the stone going? Is it almost finished?”

“It’s nearly finished.” Max recognized her question as the diversion it was and shook his head, gently setting down his empty mug and meeting her eyes with all seriousness. The last time they’d fought over the Stone Max had been surprised, agitated, and raw from the influence the Stone had on him. In the month since he’d had time to think. “Swear on what we’ve meant to each other that you won’t use it to deliberately put yourself in harm’s way. Then we can talk about it.”

He was stone faced when met with her squeal, unrepentant for his terms. She already had so much of him, he had no qualms attaching terms to the one piece she wanted. “You know I can’t do that Max,” she mumbled into her arms, still refusing to look at him. “I’ve spent months planning this, it’s already too far gone. This is the only way…”

“It isn’t the only way. You traded your power for my life I’m assuming, correct? What would happen if it was me, instead?” Max arched a brow, trying his hand at twisting her aura the way she’d tried to instigate him. He had no such death wish but it served her right to feel what it was like to have a loved one suicidally bent on protecting you. “We’ll find another option. Those are my terms.”

“Don’t you see Max, I’m already in harm’s way. Tonight was the moment of no return. When the time comes, I won’t let her use me, not in the way she wants… but that will kill me. There’s no way around that. The ritual is binding. But it should be enough. It will give you a window. And then you’ll be free from all this…”

He wouldn’t be. Max bit his lip, his eyes darting back down to Pumpkin before the traitorous fuzzball stood to request attention from his ex. If the night had gone how he’d planned it, they’d have more options. He wished he could go back and redo it, to tell Eden to leave Emory at home. But there was no going back, and there was no argument on practicality Rowena could make that would convince Max she was expendable. Too late wasn’t good enough. There was no No Return for him. If he harbored all this power in his skull it had to be useful for the one thing he needed it for.

“There is no winning this without you, Ro.” She knew how he meant it. She justified that he would keep living, but there was no losing her and moving on. Not for him.

[Rowena Jones]

“There is no winning this without you, Ro.”

The sob escaped her before she could stop it. It wasn’t fair. It was so completely and utterly unfair that she’d found him just as the world had gone to hell. That she’d begun to learn how to truly appreciate just living in the moment, how wonderful it was to love and be loved, just to have it all cruelly ripped away.
Pumpkin nuzzled at her, seemingly confused as to why Rowena was so visibly upset when the cat thought all was well once more. Her two people were back together in the same room again… and yet they were so far apart.

Unable to sit there with him looking at her so openly, she grabbed her empty mug and escaped to the kitchen, her hands shaking with the effort of trying to keep her emotions under control. She gripped the edges of the countertops, staring blankly at the wall as her mind struggled to process the drastic change in direction of the evening. Rowena had tried to convince herself for so long that she’d imagined the power of what they’d shared, that it hadn’t really been that great or magical. She'd just been caught up in the moment, she’d told herself. And he certainly hadn’t felt the same way. How could he have? It had only been a few months, and this after years of mutual competition and dislike. No, she’d leave and he’d forget about her and all would be well once she rid the world of her sister.

…except that hadn’t happened. It seemed that no matter what she did, how hard she tried, Max was always there pushing back against her. It only made it so much harder for her… and yet tonight, with the exhaustion of the night’s events, with the relief of having gotten him through the fallout, and just the knowledge that he was there and so close, Rowena found all her defenses slipping away. For tonight, she couldn’t pretend she was alright anymore.

She turned to look at him through the open archway that led from kitchen to living room, resting back against the counters, her eyes shining from unshed tears. “Not everyone gets to win Max. Not this time…” The witch wished she could believe it, believe that she could have a happy ending after all of this madness and despair.

“I’m sorry.” For keeping him away, for not being able to save herself, for loving him…