Post by Theo Bowre on Oct 23, 2011 22:08:19 GMT -5
((OOC: In light of my absence, I wanted to provide an explanation for Theo’s sudden disappearance. This post is dedicated to friendship and the light that’s shared between us, even when we’re far from home. – Love, Theo.))
Thread Music: An Irish Boy
((IC))
Theo did not expect to feel Tom’s hand on his shoulder but his Godfather’s presence certainly was not a surprise either. The beater had seen few people since he left Jack at the hospital and Tom was one of the only adults with whom Theo felt comfortable sharing company with. Comfortable enough to be honest. Comfortable enough to let his guard down.
Family came and went while Jack dealt with the authorities. Brothers and sisters, significant others, well-wishers. Everyone offered encouragement. Everyone lent a hand. But at the end of the day, it was Theo who remained back with the dying embers of Harkness House; with children whose questions he could not answer, with rooms he could not enter. Ryan and Matt alone had saved his soul from shadow, but even now he wondered just how much he could impose upon them without them following the eventual downward spiral that came with too much responsibility.
Theo caught Tom watching him on more than one occasion. The retired hitwizard stopped short of saying anything and the beater could see that there were words that burned inside the elder man’s chest. He called Tom out on it. Tom would just slink away.
“Now’s not the time, bauy,” he’d say.
“When is the right time, Tom?”
Tom would never answer. He just looked guilty.
“Whenever there’s a storm a brewing, I know exactly where to find you, Theo Bowre.”
Theo’s slate grey eyes looked up at the stately gentleman, an electrified breeze catching at the ends of his hair, which had grown in length over the past several weeks. Lost from the younger man’s face was the colour of his spirit. Theo was pale in the eerie light of the brooding sky and Tom acknowledged this with some compassion. He knew where Theo’s head was.
”I sometimes wonder whether Mother Nature isn’t attached to your heart. She’s fighting a battle in the Heavens tonight, and I’ll wager you are too. I just got off the fire with your mom and dad. They’re returning from London tomorrow.” Thinking nothing unusual of Theo’s silence, Tom sat beside the man and pulled his trench coat collar high against the wind. A peal of thunder rumbled low in the distance and the last of the ravens sought refuge in a nearby field. ”You look like shit, Theo.” Tom smiled softly, looking across at his friend before returning his eyes to the lightning on the horizon. ”But that’s been a little bit par for the course of late.” Gentler. ”And I see you left the team.”
“They asked me to.”
”I know.” Tom knew it before Theo did, the whispers coming fast and furious from former colleagues still working for the Ministry. Tom had cried for him and landed a fist in the wall of his study. His knuckles were still bruised. “Angels and ordinary men. They’ll soon know what they’ve lost.”
“Have they really lost anything?”
Tom didn’t answer. Not right away, and not on Theo’s prompt.
“I need to show you something.” Tom dug in to his jacket, pulling out a photo and holding it up for Theo to take. It remained suspended in the air for several long moments but the hitwizard was persistent. Tom watched as Theo’s eyes skimmed over the image. He could not read his indifference. ”Do you know who they are?”
“The Bowres.”
“You’ve seen a photo of your parents before?” Tom couldn’t hide the surprise from his voice.
“They’re not my parents. And yes. Dad has that same picture in his office.”
“I didn’t realize that.”
Theo’s responding gaze was cold, but it was not aimed at his godfather. It was evidence of an older war that resurfaced in every insecurity and every moment of self-doubt.
“We’re not supposed to forget our past. Only it was not my past but theirs. I can’t forget it because everywhere I turn their eyes are watching me, reminding me that try as I might, I’ll never really be a Harkness. I’ll only ever be the child of violent criminals.” The air between the men was heavy. Theo was the first to speak but his voice was hardly more than a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
”No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. Now’s not the right time.” Tom’s head dropped. His heart was raw with a duty he knew he had to do. ”My God, Theo, I’m so sorry.”
“They’re dead…aren’t they…”
Silence.
“Tom, I didn’t know them.” Theo’s voice was almost consoling as his hand quickly found its way to the hitwizard’s shoulder. As miserable as Theo might feel, he never lost the capacity to love. To protect. Right now he wanted nothing more than to release the burden that clearly weighed on Tom’s heart. “I’m sorry they’re dead, but please don’t carry the...”
“They’re not dead, Theo,” Tom responded flatly, his hand finding Theo’s and gripping it tight as he pulled himself upright. Theo could see the fear in the man’s eyes. They welled with unshed tears. “They’re back.”
“What…”
“The Bowre’s are back in Ireland, back in the same stronghold we first found them, and you. Intelligence has been pouring in for the past two months. We got hits throughout Europe right the hell up to Belfast and everything they’re doing suggests they’re setting up shop again. The Aurors are too embroiled in the madness here to deal with it and I’ve been brought in to oversee the investigation. We think they have a new buyer….and new enemies.”
Tom watched carefully as the news played out over Theo’s face. He didn’t expect a reaction and didn’t receive one beyond confusion. It was entirely expected: Tom had not yet shared how it affected his godson, or how his hand would effectively take Theo from one maelstrom to another. It had been nearly impossible to make the suggestion to Ralph and Jean. Making the request to Theo would certainly kill him. The tightness in his chest would ensure it.
“We’re trapped, Theo. We know what they’re doing, we just don’t know how. I have eleven unsolved murders and they all point back to your…to the Bowres. Items are entering the market…dark magic…a lot of it imported. The threat that they pose to the public is beyond my comprehension and it’s only the beginning. We tried placing a man inside. He didn’t make it back. We’re running out of options. I fought the Ministry for two months over this issue, Theo. I don’t suspect your brother knew what they had asked of me but believe me when I tell you that I feel it a betrayal of my love for you to be here right now. Do you, do you know why I’m here, Theo?”
Theo held the corners of the photo between his fingertips, the wind causing the film to arch then relax. The thunder grew closer, echoing through the ghostly howl as sheet lightning illuminated the sky. Theo slowly studied the image. He remembered the scent of his birth home. The empty warehouse. The concrete.
“The Bowres need their son.”
“The Ministry needs their son. They need the son to lead them home. I’m…Theo, I…”
“Mom and dad…Ralph and Jean…they’re coming back tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll leave tomorrow.” Theo rose to his feet, facing Tom with calm conviction. “It’s my choice. Worry your head not, dearer than friend. Who are we if we don’t fight for what we believe in.”
Tom clenched his teeth, emotion threatening to overwhelm him. His arm grabbed Theo about the neck and he pulled the man in close, holding him as though he were his own son. Theo remained rigid in Tom’s grasp before he allowed himself to falter. It had been weeks…months…since he had had the luxury of being human. Tom knew this and refused to let go.
”Wales lost a good man, Theo. I won’t lose you. Don’t get yourself killed. I’ll have my eyes on you the entire time.”
Thread Music: An Irish Boy
((IC))
Theo did not expect to feel Tom’s hand on his shoulder but his Godfather’s presence certainly was not a surprise either. The beater had seen few people since he left Jack at the hospital and Tom was one of the only adults with whom Theo felt comfortable sharing company with. Comfortable enough to be honest. Comfortable enough to let his guard down.
Family came and went while Jack dealt with the authorities. Brothers and sisters, significant others, well-wishers. Everyone offered encouragement. Everyone lent a hand. But at the end of the day, it was Theo who remained back with the dying embers of Harkness House; with children whose questions he could not answer, with rooms he could not enter. Ryan and Matt alone had saved his soul from shadow, but even now he wondered just how much he could impose upon them without them following the eventual downward spiral that came with too much responsibility.
Theo caught Tom watching him on more than one occasion. The retired hitwizard stopped short of saying anything and the beater could see that there were words that burned inside the elder man’s chest. He called Tom out on it. Tom would just slink away.
“Now’s not the time, bauy,” he’d say.
“When is the right time, Tom?”
Tom would never answer. He just looked guilty.
“Whenever there’s a storm a brewing, I know exactly where to find you, Theo Bowre.”
Theo’s slate grey eyes looked up at the stately gentleman, an electrified breeze catching at the ends of his hair, which had grown in length over the past several weeks. Lost from the younger man’s face was the colour of his spirit. Theo was pale in the eerie light of the brooding sky and Tom acknowledged this with some compassion. He knew where Theo’s head was.
”I sometimes wonder whether Mother Nature isn’t attached to your heart. She’s fighting a battle in the Heavens tonight, and I’ll wager you are too. I just got off the fire with your mom and dad. They’re returning from London tomorrow.” Thinking nothing unusual of Theo’s silence, Tom sat beside the man and pulled his trench coat collar high against the wind. A peal of thunder rumbled low in the distance and the last of the ravens sought refuge in a nearby field. ”You look like shit, Theo.” Tom smiled softly, looking across at his friend before returning his eyes to the lightning on the horizon. ”But that’s been a little bit par for the course of late.” Gentler. ”And I see you left the team.”
“They asked me to.”
”I know.” Tom knew it before Theo did, the whispers coming fast and furious from former colleagues still working for the Ministry. Tom had cried for him and landed a fist in the wall of his study. His knuckles were still bruised. “Angels and ordinary men. They’ll soon know what they’ve lost.”
“Have they really lost anything?”
Tom didn’t answer. Not right away, and not on Theo’s prompt.
“I need to show you something.” Tom dug in to his jacket, pulling out a photo and holding it up for Theo to take. It remained suspended in the air for several long moments but the hitwizard was persistent. Tom watched as Theo’s eyes skimmed over the image. He could not read his indifference. ”Do you know who they are?”
“The Bowres.”
“You’ve seen a photo of your parents before?” Tom couldn’t hide the surprise from his voice.
“They’re not my parents. And yes. Dad has that same picture in his office.”
“I didn’t realize that.”
Theo’s responding gaze was cold, but it was not aimed at his godfather. It was evidence of an older war that resurfaced in every insecurity and every moment of self-doubt.
“We’re not supposed to forget our past. Only it was not my past but theirs. I can’t forget it because everywhere I turn their eyes are watching me, reminding me that try as I might, I’ll never really be a Harkness. I’ll only ever be the child of violent criminals.” The air between the men was heavy. Theo was the first to speak but his voice was hardly more than a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
”No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. Now’s not the right time.” Tom’s head dropped. His heart was raw with a duty he knew he had to do. ”My God, Theo, I’m so sorry.”
“They’re dead…aren’t they…”
Silence.
“Tom, I didn’t know them.” Theo’s voice was almost consoling as his hand quickly found its way to the hitwizard’s shoulder. As miserable as Theo might feel, he never lost the capacity to love. To protect. Right now he wanted nothing more than to release the burden that clearly weighed on Tom’s heart. “I’m sorry they’re dead, but please don’t carry the...”
“They’re not dead, Theo,” Tom responded flatly, his hand finding Theo’s and gripping it tight as he pulled himself upright. Theo could see the fear in the man’s eyes. They welled with unshed tears. “They’re back.”
“What…”
“The Bowre’s are back in Ireland, back in the same stronghold we first found them, and you. Intelligence has been pouring in for the past two months. We got hits throughout Europe right the hell up to Belfast and everything they’re doing suggests they’re setting up shop again. The Aurors are too embroiled in the madness here to deal with it and I’ve been brought in to oversee the investigation. We think they have a new buyer….and new enemies.”
Tom watched carefully as the news played out over Theo’s face. He didn’t expect a reaction and didn’t receive one beyond confusion. It was entirely expected: Tom had not yet shared how it affected his godson, or how his hand would effectively take Theo from one maelstrom to another. It had been nearly impossible to make the suggestion to Ralph and Jean. Making the request to Theo would certainly kill him. The tightness in his chest would ensure it.
“We’re trapped, Theo. We know what they’re doing, we just don’t know how. I have eleven unsolved murders and they all point back to your…to the Bowres. Items are entering the market…dark magic…a lot of it imported. The threat that they pose to the public is beyond my comprehension and it’s only the beginning. We tried placing a man inside. He didn’t make it back. We’re running out of options. I fought the Ministry for two months over this issue, Theo. I don’t suspect your brother knew what they had asked of me but believe me when I tell you that I feel it a betrayal of my love for you to be here right now. Do you, do you know why I’m here, Theo?”
Theo held the corners of the photo between his fingertips, the wind causing the film to arch then relax. The thunder grew closer, echoing through the ghostly howl as sheet lightning illuminated the sky. Theo slowly studied the image. He remembered the scent of his birth home. The empty warehouse. The concrete.
“The Bowres need their son.”
“The Ministry needs their son. They need the son to lead them home. I’m…Theo, I…”
“Mom and dad…Ralph and Jean…they’re coming back tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll leave tomorrow.” Theo rose to his feet, facing Tom with calm conviction. “It’s my choice. Worry your head not, dearer than friend. Who are we if we don’t fight for what we believe in.”
Tom clenched his teeth, emotion threatening to overwhelm him. His arm grabbed Theo about the neck and he pulled the man in close, holding him as though he were his own son. Theo remained rigid in Tom’s grasp before he allowed himself to falter. It had been weeks…months…since he had had the luxury of being human. Tom knew this and refused to let go.
”Wales lost a good man, Theo. I won’t lose you. Don’t get yourself killed. I’ll have my eyes on you the entire time.”
