Discovery
Percy can’t find his wand.
With his undamaged hand, he fumbles across the kitchen floor, wincing as the shards from Audrey’s wine glass cut his hand and forearm. He tries to open his eyes, but he can’t make himself do it, still too terrified to open them for fear of permanently damaging his eyesight.
His fingers remain empty, only managing to bump into the kitchen cabinet, and then one of the chairs around the table. It must be further out of reach.
“Accio wand!” he tries to cast, but it doesn’t work. He’s never been great kicks at wandless magic, and he’s far too panicked to concentrate on his magic. What was he going to do? The living room with the fireplace was too far away for him to navigate safely blinded, and even then, he’s not even sure if he can find the Floo powder to call for help. That means he’s too far away from the front door, too, to get help from a neighbor.
His breathing is coming is quick, desperate gasps, as if his chest might collapse under the weight of it all. He was stuck, so totally stuck and injured and he was going to have to lay here until Audrey came back.
The phone!
The idea pops into his head unbidden. The landline muggle phone, hanging from a cord in the hallway just outside the kitchen. He could reach the phone, couldn’t he? It was less than a meter away. He steels himself and pulls himself to his knee, crying out as the glass embeds itself into his legs.
He can do this.
He tries to get one shaky leg under him, but when he tries to stand it all but gives out. He’ll have to crawl. Percy drags himself across the kitchen floor, pain flaring from his chest. He moans as he slowly, centimeter by centimeter, pulls himself across the floor and out into the hallway. He tries to imagine the layout. If he’s on the floor, then the phone is to the left.
Every movement feels like an eternity as he drags himself across the floor, the sharp pain from his chest making it harder to breathe. The phone is just beyond the wall.
Blindly, he shoves himself up against the wall and stretches his arm out, fingers trembling, desperate to feel the cold plastic.
Nothing.
For a moment, panic surges. Had Audrey taken it? No. There it is. The hard surface of the phone under his fingertips. He tries to grab at it, but it slips from his shaking hands and swings down, still attached to the receiver by its cord. He knows this, because as it swings, the phone smacks him in the face, just above his left eyebrow. He hisses in pain as the bones in his face vibrate. He must take a few breathes until the wave of pain passes.
When he no longer feels like there’s a bell ringing in his head, Percy shoves himself up against the wall, barely able to stay upright and waves his hand around under he can grab the phone. He finds it and grips it to tightly he swears he can hear his bones creak.
He’s not sure of the number pattern on the phone, and he’s even less sure of who he should call. The muggle police? If he dialed triple nine, would they pick up?
He presses a few buttons where he thinks the ‘9’ key is and holds it up to his ear. It dials and he can hear it ringing. He must have found the right keypad. It rings for three horrifying long rotations until there’s a click.
“Hello?”
Percy’s blood freezes in his veins. It’s Charlie’s voice. He didn’t call triple 9; he must have hit the return button. The phone had called the last number that had been dialed.
Which was Charlie. He had called him before work.
Percy hesitates. He had been prepared to explain his situation to a stranger. Not to his brother.
“Hello? Anyone there?”
Percy swallows down his fear. He needs help.
“C-charlie?” he stumbles out. The word came out weak, trembling.
His brothers’ lighthearted tone shifts immediately to something a little more urgent.
“Percy? What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
Percy knows he must sound pathetic right now, with his voice weak and trembling, barely able to talk over a whisper.
“I n-n-need help. Can y-you come?”
There’s movement on the other end of the line, like rustling cloth.
“Where are you?”
Percy swallows. “Home.”
“I’m on my way right now. I need to hang up so I can Floo. I’ll be right there, okay?”
Percy finds himself nodding before he remembers that he’s on a muggle phone and not Floo-caling through the fireplace.
“Okay.” He whispers. The line goes dead, and the phone just lets out one long tone. His brother had just hung up on him.
Realistically, he knows that Charlie can’t use a phone while using the Floo and he would be there any moment, but he panics at the idea of his brother hanging up and leaving him alone. He leans back against the wall and waits.
Seconds later, he hears the roar of the fireplace as his brother Floos in.
“Percy?!” his brother calls, his voice slightly muffled by the walls. He sounds scared. Percy licks his dry, cracked lips. How long had he been laying there?
“Here!” he calls weakly. It’s not loud at all and Charlie doesn’t appear to hear him, but his brother is rushing through the house checking rooms for him. He hears rushed footsteps to his right and hears his brother take a sharp breath.
“Oh my Merlin-,” There’s more rushed footsteps, and he hears his brother come closer. Then he feels his brother’s hands on his shoulder. He flinches, he hadn’t been expecting it. Charlie draws his hands away quickly.
“Percy, what happened!?”
Percy sort of shrugs wincing as he feels a sharp, sudden pain from his side. Had he bruised a rib?
“I can’t see.” He responds lamely. There are rustling sounds.
‘I’m going to spell the glass away.”
Percy nods, and he feels the sharp glasses that had embedded itself into the palms of his hands, his legs and knees, and (most importantly) his face. He breathes a sigh of relief and his eyelashes flutter.
“Wait!” Charlie orders and Percy stills. “Don’t open your eyes yet, I think there’s more in your waterline.”
“Oh.” He’s feeling oddly calm.
“Merlin, Perce.” Charlie whispers. Percy can almost feel his brother’s eyes on him.
“What happened?” he asks for a third time.
Percy bites his lower lip. Charlie groans.
“You gotta be kidding me-, Audrey did this, didn’t she?”
His brother’s voice goes from gentle to harsh very, very quickly. Despite the glass behind his shut eyelids, Percy feels his eyes begin to water with tears.
“I-, it-,” Percy doesn’t know what to say. How can he find the words? How do you explain to your brother that your wife did this to you after you asked her to get marriage counseling?
“If you tell me this was accident, I’m going to scream.” Charlie threatens.
Percy had just been about to say that, so instead he says.
“I think my hand is broken.”
He can feel Charlie look him up and down.
“I think there’s more broken than that. Can you stand?”
“What?” Percy asks, unsure of why Charlie was asking.
“Can you stand? I’m taking you to St. Mungo’s.”
Percy heart skips a beat. A hospital means healers, and healers means questions he isn’t prepared to answer.
“I-, you can’t!” Percy pleads, uncaring of the fear that’s lacing his voice. “Please, Charlie. You can’t.”
His brother must be thinking the same thing he is.
“I don’t care. I already ignored this once, I’m not doing it again.”
“Charlie-,” Percy starts to say.
“Look at yourself- wait, you can’t! Perce, your hand is black and blue. You’re covered in blood, your fucking face-,” he’s getting angrier and angrier by the second, fury radiating from him like heat from a fireplace.
“I’m taking you the hospital, whether you like it or not.”
Percy feels his brother’s strong arms wrap around his lower back and perch under his legs, and suddenly he’s weightless, being carried in his arms. Percy squirms, trying to break free.
“Charlie-,” he tries again, but his brother ignores him, carrying him some distance until they reach, presumably, the fireplace.
“Percy, I swear on all that is good and holy that I will body-bind you if that’s what it takes." Hi s brother warns, his tone fierce. You’re going to the hospital.”
The idea of being trapped, all muscles tight, unable to move and unable to see has Percy all but stop his feeble attempts at fleeing. He knows Charlie means it.
“I’m sorry.” Percy says quietly.
“Not your fault.” Charlie grunts. “We’re going to Floo now. Can you stand?”
Percy takes stock of how he’s feeling and shakes his head. Charlie sighs.
“I’m sorry.” Percy says, even quieter now. His brother brushes a damp curl from his face in quiet reply. Then, they’re moving again and going out the front door. Percy can feel the heat of the sun on his face.
“We’re going to step outside your wards and apparate.”
“It’s too far to apparate”
“Not for me.” Charlie says. Percy’s pretty sure he’s lying. They move forward until they reach past the wards, probably about the fence line which is where is wards stop, and Charlie wordlessly apparates, Percy going with him as a side-along.
It takes two or three jumps, Percy’s not quite sure, but suddenly he hears more people and movement. Charlie is breathing heavily.
“Char-,”
“It’s fine, Percy.” Charlie says, sounding winded. They start moving again, but Percy’s not expecting it so suddenly and he gets jostled the wrong way. Pain shoots up his broken hand and he can’t quite keep his cry of pain from bursting from his lips.
“It’s okay, Percy. We’re almost there.” Charlie tries to assure him. Percy’s starting to feel all hazy and numb like before when Audrey had been kicking him, so he doesn’t reply. He all but floats through the next few moments. There’s a rush of cold air, the sounds of a door opening and muttering of more people that Percy ignores. He’s too busy not thinking.
“I need some help over here!” Charlie calls. There’s more muttering, a bit more urgent, and Percy’s being put down gently on something rubbery but soft. He flinches at the unexpected movement.
“It’s okay, Perce. Just had to put you down on a stretcher. The healers are going to take it from here.”
Percy feels very scared all the sudden.
“Please don’t go.” He whimpers pathetically.
“Can I stay?” Charlie asks. The healer must have nodded because Charlie clears his throat. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Percy blindly reaches out for his older brother, feeling like a small child rather than a man in his early thirties. His brother’s calloused hand finds his unbroken one and he squeezes it tight despite the sharp pain from his cuts. The stretcher starts moving. It glides effortlessly- they must be levitating it, until it stops.
“Mr. Weasley?” a light voice calls out to him. “My name is Healer Melissa. I’m going to give you some potions to drink, okay?”
He nods, and there’s a cold glass vial against his lips. He chokes down whatever they gave him. It tastes like sludge.
“That was a blood-replenishing potion. I’m going to give you another.”
There’s a second vial to his lips, but it’s warm. It tastes less horrid than the previous. Percy feels the tension in his broken hand relax a bit.
“That was a pain-reliver. One more, okay?”
A final vial is pressed to his lips, and he drinks it in a big swallow. The taste of it is familiar- like nutmeg and something warm. Immediately, he tries to vomit it up, but he doesn’t have the energy.
“That’s an extra-strong dreamless sleep. It’ll be easier to treat you if you’re asleep.”
Percy knows what it is. He’s used so many, especially right after the war ended, when he had horrific nightmares about Fred’s death. He hadn't wanted to fall asleep.
“I don’t-,” he tries to voice his displeasure, but Percy is already feeling the rapid effects of the potion. It hits him like a freight train, and the world starts to feel fuzzy. Charlie is still holding his hand.
“It’s okay, Percy. Let them take care of you.”
Percy tries to fight it, but finds he has little choice.
He’s asleep in seconds.