October 11th, 1995
London

"I don't care what the other department heads have to say. There is absolutely no way Cordelia can be in the US for that meeting!"

Allison Kowalski grimaced when she stepped out of the London Heathrow Airport with Victor Picquery, who was still arguing with MACUSA's president on his mobile. For once, it seemed, she could feel exhaustion starting to get to her. Just because our bags are enchanted to fit nearly one's entire life inside does not mean I can just use magic to fly them around. Fuck. Her fingers anxiously tapping on the handles of their rollaboards, she resisted the urge to shove Victor into a corner so he could finish the call and they could apparate. This is ridiculous. Both of us already told them she can't make it. Why can't they take that and run with it? For God's sake, this isn't her fault! The woman is comatose from torture! After a second to calm herself, she glanced back to Victor as they continued to walk down towards the trains to get them to the Underground. You would think, given how damn important his grandmother is, they would take him seriously, but, apparently not. I suppose this is why we can't have nice things. Barely aware of her surroundings, Allison suddenly grabbed Victor by the arm, pulling him back and as far to the side as possible, a sudden, horrible, sinking feeling taking over her. He jumped, for a second, but then paused, sensing the same. Then, he handed her his mobile.

"Just try and explain," He said quietly and hurriedly. "I'll hold onto the bags. Just make sure nothing is wrong."

Allison shortly nodded, her hands shaking when she took the mobile.

"I don't think anyone could be much clearer," She finally said, hearing the impatient tapping of her boss' almost certainly perfectly manicured nails on the other end of the line. "It's not in his place to explain the details, President Vance."

"I'm not disputing what Victor thinks is ethical behaviour in himself or not," She testily replied. "It's become more than well established over the years that Victor has almost ridiculous standards for himself. I assume he's asked you to explain things for me?"

Allison hesitated. "What do you need to know? What do you already know?"

"I've been given to understand that Cordelia is not returning to the US for unspecified reasons regarding her health," Vance's tone softened. "But I am incredibly unclear as to what that means, and no one has been particularly helpful in clearing that up."

"Delia's…she's…" Allison briefly fell silent. "She was tortured. And she is currently comatose as a result."

"Are you –" Vance paused, horror setting in. "Well. I'll have to speak to the others, but that particular meeting will have to be rescheduled. Am I to assume you'll be in the UK for a while, then?"

"Victor and I are the godparents to her eldest child, so, yes," Allison said, pushing aside old words from her grandmother that were rising in her mind. "We'll make you aware of any changes as necessary. Will that be all?"

"For today, yes."

The line clicked off. Allison all but jammed the antennae back into the mobile. Taking a brief look around, she found herself unable to keep her grandmother's words at bay, dread and guilt rising in her chest knowing the conversation had been one she had not been meant to hear.

"You don't have to keep running, Delia," Queenie had gently wrapped a blanket around the young mother. "It's going to be alright. You know your husband loves you and your kids dearly. You know your three babies are deeply attached to you. It's alright. You don't have to keep running from feeling like a disruption in everyone's lives."

"But what if I am?" She had whispered. "The nightmares are getting worse. I…sometimes I don't even…I…I nearly drowned myself, shortly after…after…if Cornelius hadn't found me, I would have –"

"Hush, Delia," Queenie had said, coming to sit down beside her when she broke down. "You've been through hell. But you're still here. And I know you'll get through this."

"Vic?" Allison nudged him, trying to distract herself from her thoughts when she handed his mobile back to him. "Do you get the feeling someone might be watching us?"

He glanced around but then shook his head. "If anyone is, we aren't particularly interesting."

Allison nodded. "Should we attempt to go see her first? Or should we make sure –"

"I need to see she's alive," Victor said suddenly, almost as though he needed to run. "Go without me. I'm sure everyone will understand."

"I know they will," She sighed, adjusting her purse and the bags before slipping into a relatively secluded spot where most of the lights had gone out. "Damn it…"

"I don't know what else to do, I just can't handle the thought of something happening to -" Delia had broken down, shaking, burying her face in her hands. "What are we doing to our kids?"

October 13th, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place

Remus glanced to his husband, who was still fiddling with the stove.

"Well? Light it."

"What?" Sirius gave him a funny look. "Don't you think that's what I'm trying to do?"

Remus put his hands up. "Why are you looking at me like that? I don't know how to do it."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "And you think I should?"

"I never said that," Remus replied. "But I think that's what –"

Lily slipped between Sirius and Remus, pulling out a cigarette lighter and lighting the stove top herself. The two of them took a small step back, feeling both ridiculous and a bit wounded, considering that it had only just occurred to them to use their wands. The stove had been flickering a little bit, but not lighting completely. Both of them were more than eager to try and make something for themselves rather than waiting for someone to come back (read: Molly) and do it for them. Lily rolled her eyes, albeit looking rather amused. Sirius awkwardly pulled out a skillet, very nearly dropping it on his feet. He began looking for the pancake batter he could have sworn he had put in the fridge a few days before. Remus watched, kneeling down to stare at the stove and the flame, half expecting it to explode. Lily laughed a little, and they both looked to her while she lit a cigarette, smirking at them while she took a draw.

"You two are absolutely helpless," She shook her head. "Either one of you could go out and get take away from any of the shops downtown. It's not as if it takes long to go into muggle London and get a damn pizza or two."

Sirius grimaced. "Really?" He pulled out something that looked almost as though it were starting to mould. "Think I can just scrape this off and bake it anyways?"

"No!" Lily exclaimed, staring at him in disgust. "You are not going to make and eat mouldy pancakes! Have you lost your damn mind?"

Sirius glanced to his husband. "What do you think?"

Remus took a look at the batter. "I think you can probably scrape it off," He said with a shrug. "I doubt it has ruined the whole thing."

Lily took another draw on her cigarette, her nose wrinkling.

"If the two of you are trying to prove a point to me, this is the wrong way to do it," She said, giving them a pointed look. "And, if you two don't start a small fire making these mouldy pancakes, I will not feel sorry for either of you when you get food poisoning. For fuck's sake, did either of you ever learn to cook?"

Remus took a minute to consider that. "I know how to use a microwave," He said. "But, admittedly, I don't know much beyond that."

Sirius stared at her in disbelief. "Lily, honestly," He said dryly. "Do you honestly believe anyone in my family ever did any work."

Lily raised an eyebrow but then shrugged. "I suppose that's a satisfactory enough answer," She closed her eyes and took a draw. "But, then again, I would still expect two men in their late thirties to know how to cook for themselves."

"Molly has been doing that for years, and you've done it for years too," Remus reminded her. "Are you really trying to act smug about this?"

"Oh, it's not an act," Lily winked. "It's a genuine reaction. I am both concerned and disgusted by both of you right now, and that is not going to change any time soon if you two are going to…"

She grimaced when Sirius did, in fact, scrape off the mould and drop the rest of the batter onto the pan in clumps.

"You two are going to eat hair," She said, resisting the urge to laugh. "Or something else equally disgusting," She added, shook her head. "I wouldn't be shocked if Kreacher did something to that, Sirius, given the way you treat him."

Sirius gave her a mutinous look. "Don't try to guilt me again, Lily."

"No guilt," She replied. "Just a friendly warning."

Remus reached over to tap his husband's back. "Is it supposed to stick like that?"

"I think so," Sirius glanced to Lily. "Don't correct us."

"Don't worry," She said, laughing. "This is too damn funny for me to bother."

October 15th, 1995
London

"Come here, it's alright," Allison Kowalski let her godchild cling to her, their glasses fogging up from crying when they stepped back into their home with their siblings, father, and uncle. Victor shut the door behind all of them, and Allison gently guided her godchild over to the couch so they could sit down together. "I know, Cat," She said, stroking their hair. "But your momma is going to be okay. And you know I don't lie."

The past few days had felt much longer. Shyanne had been angry. Cat had broken down several times, and had two panic attacks where they needed to be restrained by not only their father but Allison. Eddie had been shaky and emotionally detached. Victor had cursed out more than one MACUSA official over the phone for their insistence that Delia 'could not possibly be that bad off.' Cornelius had spent most evenings after work by his wife's side, desperately awaiting a positive change in her condition. Nothing had changed. She still had spasms. She still mumbled weakly and incoherently. Allison described some of what she had observed a 'potential seizures.' She came to live with us when she was twelve. Dad had gotten her put on medication because of seizures. And Cornelius said she still has to take it. Allison continued to brush through Cat's hair with her hands. Victor leaned back against the kitchen counter, pushing his glasses up into his hair. Damn it. This is awful in every way imaginable. After a minute of hesitation, and a shared look with Allison who lightly nodded, he picked up her purse and pulled out several bottles of alcohol which he began to mix into drinks.

"I don't know how many of you have had a Long Island Iced Tea," He said heavily. "But it's one hell of an antidote to just about –"

"I'll take it," Cat said, looking up through their teared-blurry glasses. "Does it –"

"No," Cornelius said, sending them a pointed look before turning to Victor. "Don't give them something that strong."

"Cat can barely keep down two beers," Eddie dejectedly put in. "But I –"

"No one under the age of seventeen is getting that," Allison said, awkwardly leaning over to pat his head. "I'll take some, though."

"Me too," Shyanne said, crossing their arms. "I can't take it. I…I –"

"Here," Victor said, pushing one towards them. "I wouldn't quite call it a juice box, but close enough. Just with more alcohol."

"Victor –" Allison chided.

"Well, what else do you want me to suggest they do?" He said, inclining his head slightly towards Shyanne as they slowly began to sip on their drink. "Last time I checked, this is –"

"Bad," Allison agreed. "This is bad, I agree. But I really don't think –"

"Lia's a southerner," Victor cut in. "Isn't this how –"

Allison sent him a dark look. "Just because this is how I've self medicated over the years doesn't mean you should be encouraging –"

"What am I supposed to do, then?" Victor snapped. "There's –"

"Just stop fighting!" Shyanne suddenly snapped, startling themselves. "I can't take it," Shyanne's voice fell quiet. "Mum's already in a terrible state. I don't want everything to…to…"

"Shay, it's alright," Cornelius sighed, trying to keep his voice steady. "I feel it too, especially because…I can't handle the thought of losing Dee."

Cat glanced up, shaking against their godmother.

"The last time you called momma that was after she tried to drown herself."

Eddie, Shyanne, and Victor turned to look between the shaky and unusually quiet Cat and the stunned Cornelius.

"Catherine," He began slowly. "How do you remember that? You were only –"

"I was nine," Cat said softly. "And got Shy and Eddie to calm down and go to sleep."

Shyanne, looking dizzy, quickly finished the rest of their drink before running upstairs, nearly slipping on at the top before slamming the door to their room.

"Your mother has been through more than you could imagine, Cat," Cornelius finally said, pausing until they weakly managed to nod. "And I know you worry, but she's been alright. I wouldn't say that if I weren't certain. When…when she comes to, I'm sure she will be okay. She always has been."

"I've spent my entire life running away…" Delia had sobbed, clinging to her husband, who held her as tightly as he could. "And I…how am I going to tell them that? How are they ever going to understand their mother is a –"

"You're not a bad person, Dee, please don't think that," Cornelius had murmured, steadying her as best he could. "And you'll never lose me or our children. I promise."