A/N: I got this idea from an amazing Marauders fanfiction I read once and could never find again – just random things that spring to mind when you think of the characters. This hasn't quite worked out as I intended, but I thought I would share it anyway.
Trigger Warnings: Very, very slight implicit references to rape, child abuse, suicide, abortion, alcoholism, prison, war, abusive relationships, self-harm, PTSD and miscarriages.
ABstract
Abstract, disjointed phrases for Anna, Bates, Banna and Baby Bates
ANNA
Sinking into a warm bubble bath, spring rain in northern countryside, sweet milky tea, silky hair released from tightly restraining pins, straining eyes mending by guttering candlelight, sitting in the window with icy rain lashing outside, deft fingers, lavender, making-over hand-me-down dresses, early mornings to follow late nights, heavy with exhaustion, warm ready smiles, muffled giggles, hard work, velvet and silk running through hands, irrepressible optimism, comforting hand on a shoulder, sharp retorts, twisting a gold band round her finger compulsively, treasured letters creased and dog-eared from rereading, sunlight, sweet-tooth, soap, bruised face – swollen and puffy under trembling application of powder, obsessive scrubbing, smell of boot polish, half-light and shadows, mist wreathed dawn, trembling lip, lowered eyes, stubborn set of jaw, persistent love, dark memories, languid in the warmth of a fire, moonlight on her face making her look like a child, determined intangible dreams, deformed coat hanger tipped with 'rust', warm furry body in gentle hands, wet soot, ferocious whir of machinery, cotton falling like snow, slum tenements that block out the sky, blank-eyed mother wilfully oblivious, sprawled in the grass watching the dancing clouds, tenderly brushing hair off a still cold bloodless face, scratch of grey prison fabric, bars that block out more light than they let in, soaking hair plastered to glowing face, empty arms aching for the warm weight of a child, boiling tears freezing on skin, reek of gin on hot breath in the dark, clammy hands in places she knows instinctively they should not be…
BATES
Reading by candlelight, burn of too much too strong alcohol that's not a sufficient substitute for the emotional morphine he seeks, embers in a grate, quoting obscure poetry, burning grass, incessant gunfire that never really fades, grimy loveless sex, bound by an unrequited sense of honour, vicious insults, searing heat, barked orders, crippling depression, grey walls and grey clothes and grey food and grey skies and black despair, smell of new pages, battered books with tea-stained covers, mangled muscle and bone, screaming rows and unforgivable unregretted words, blinding pain that goes white behind your eyelids, closed doors, brushing off concern and pity, haunting pleading eyes that follow him everywhere, autumn days and winter nights, sweat trickling over aching muscles, her poisonous toxic malicious spite, sea of faceless faces devoid of empathy or compassion, dark unlit streets, bruised knuckles, marriage bordering on a self-destructive behaviour – self-imposed punishment for some unspecified crime, metallic taste of blood, bitten tongue, swallowed back tears, pouring city rain, 'Tio! You didn't eat his slippers?!', peppermint, pomade, insomnia-ridden nights spent staring at the ceiling, shard of glass, sodden kitten tucked into jacket, cloves, gravel hitting flesh, heart-breaking eloquence, taint of another man on her disloyal mouth, numbing oblivion…
BANNA
Cold iron biting wrists, sun rays fleetingly breaking through storm clouds, entwined hands as only anchor, clinging together in wake of it all falling apart, butterfly kissing tears from blotchy cheeks, nestling her chin in the nook of his neck where she fits like the missing piece of a jigsaw, gaslight in the dark, small cold hand slipping into his under the covers, desperate phone calls at all hours of the night, drinking tea from chipped cups with shoes off, burying her face in his shoulder and breathing in her hair as tears roll down his cheeks and she soaks his shoulder, insurmountable distance of bleakly functional table, echoing slam of heavy cell doors, never doubting the dawn, unreasonable optimism dampened by hardship, French garters, stacks of damp crates in the courtyard, aching kisses that seem to last forever but stop all too soon, her hands tucked in his jacket, clutching each other as the world spins out of control again, walking home in the dark, stolen moments, cupping faces, salt of tears – unsure whose, one blissful night, trays, making love with all candles lit so she feels safe, tempering love with horror and hardship, bleak skies, tearing sobs, flickering glow of illuminated windows, bleary eyed mornings and stubbornly remaining huddled under layers of blankets, pressed close together – icy petite frame that fits perfectly stealing body heat from safe embrace, warm handshake, whispered words and tentative touches, impenetrable night terrors – thrashing and screaming – and soothing nonsense murmurs, loaded exchange of glances and skin brushing under the table, illicit looks, smell of fresh paint, helpless with laughter, smears of whitewash, dimming lights, unfaltering faith in innocence, broken couch, damp green woodland walks, constant contact as though scared to let go, broken not ruined, smudging ink with fallen tears and traces of invisible kisses, agonised lingering goodbyes, raw pain and joy, daring to hope, promises, shared secrets and memories, fearless furious defences, anguished confessions, irrepressible, unbreakable love…
BABY BATES
So many tries and tragedies, agonies and cover-ups and suffering and sacrifice, feeling of failure, moments of panic, help and hope and darkness, pained terror and relief, wary dreams and fantasies, radiant smiles, waiting and planning, over-cautious protectiveness, love that makes your heart hurt, kicking and feeling it and sudden realisation that it's real, decorating tiny nursery – knowing they'll never use it because she'll sleep with them until she doesn't want to, tiny clothes they pour their hearts into, him trying to childproof the world in preparation for the most determinedly sheltered child ever born, shocking pain in the middle of the night and flurry of chaos, going frantic listening to her heart-wrenching cries, taking too long, his name on her lips, breaking all the rules as she clutches his hand so hard he thinks (only afterwards) his fingers may have broken, panting through the pain, elated relief and collapsing against the pillows in exhaustion and damp sweet-smelling squalling bundled up in shawls person – terrifyingly tiny, Anna – sodden with sweat and shaking – clutching in trembling arms, face buried in baby scent, baby clutching his little finger with perfect shell-pink hand, tears of joy pouring down both their faces, baby quieting instant Anna holds her – knowing they'll never put her down, huge blue eyes fixed on his face, sweet-smell of milk and baby and never been more in love, worth it all…
