A Brush with Death
Tuesday, 4th September 1979
When Dorcas shows up at St Mungo's late in the afternoon one day, hands stained with blood that isn't hers and the same dripping from her earlobe, seeping into her shirt, Mary knows at first sight something's gone terribly wrong.
It had been a rather uneventful Tuesday afternoon, despite the fact that she'd had to deliver the worst type of news to one of her patient's family earlier this morning. He'd gotten admitted to St Mungo's two weeks prior and just when it seemed like he was going to make a full recovery, his stay at the hospital ended up in tragedy. The healers at St Mungo's had been optimistic at first, but as she's since learned being on the job, magical injuries can often end up being rather unpredictable, the damage manifesting itself in a way that seems unfathomable even after the initial symptoms have subsided. Sometimes, it happens weeks after the initial curse and by that point, they can't do anything else but wait for the outcome to play itself out. To hopelessly watch patients die and not be able to do anything about it.
Mary's there besides his empty bed that afternoon, finally getting some time out of her busy schedule to circle back here. She starts to fold up the bedsheets and tidy up everything for the next patient who gets wheeled in. She'd already packed up everything left behind for his family earlier - gifts and flowers, that sort of stuff - so it had just been a matter of changing the bedsheets and sterilising everything else in the cubicle. She could always do it the magical way. A wave of the wand and spit spot - everything would be where they're supposed to be. Like no one was ever here to begin with. But it's times like these Mary prefers to do it by hand. The way she learned it when she was little, like her mom taught her. It gives her time to think, to confront her emotions, then bottle it up so she can focus on the next injury - the next patient.
So all in all, it had been rather ironic that it was then that Dorcas Meadowes, of all people, storms into the Janus Thickey ward looking for her. Just when Mary was getting ready to move on to the next.
"Where's Mary MacDonald?"
Mary overhears a voice asking for her. Before she's able to wrap her head around who the voice belongs to, whoever's answered must have gestured towards her cubicle because next thing she knows, Dorcas is pulling apart the curtains that's been shielding Mary from the rest of the ward and simultaneously pulling Mary out of her rather depressing thoughts.
"Dorcas? What are you-?" She starts only to be interrupted.
"You need to come with me." Dorcas says before Mary's even able to get a full sentence out. The side of her face is dripping with blood - it's not a lot, but it's enough for alarm bells to ring in Mary's head.
"What? Why-" It's then Mary notices the blood on Dorcas' hands as well, who's been tugging at Mary's arm in desperation, trying to drag her along with her.
"It's Emmeline. There's nobody else. Mary, please." Dorcas is begging for Mary's help like she needed any convincing to begin with. It puts the fear of God in Mary because Dorcas Meadowes never begs. Truth is, Mary's never seen Dorcas scared like this.
She doesn't think she's ever seen Dorcas scared at all.
It's Emmeline.
The words echo in her head and Mary side alongs Dorcas, the other girl's hand wrapped tightly around her wrist and vice versa, Mary clutching her own wand firmly in her other free hand. They apparate once - Mary takes a deep breath - and Dorcas apparates them away again. It's then Mary finds the two of them outside some sort of barn in the middle of nowhere - quite literally, as she gets a glimpse of their surroundings, needing a second to recuperate after apparating the distance.
Benjy's there outside the barn, pacing back and forth, when they arrive. At the sight of Dorcas and Mary, he immediately starts explaining.
"Dorcas -" Benjy chokes out. "I transfigured the hay. I had to levitate her. I had to move her - I tried not to but I had to and I moved her and-"
"Where is she?" Mary finds herself asking in the midst of Benjy's rambling. Benjy gestures towards the barn and she sets off towards it without a second thought, Dorcas and Benjy following at her heels.
They walk in and there's Emmeline in a makeshift cot, smack in the middle of the barn, the cot roughly transfigured from the bale courtesy of Benjy, who apparently doesn't seem to be all that skilled at Transfiguration magic. There's layers and layers of bandages wrapped around Emmeline's torso, blood dripping in spite of it. The word gruesome wouldn't even begin to describe the situation Mary walks into.
Mary thinks she could lie and say she's used to this by now.
Instead, she ignores the way Benjy and Dorcas keep bickering and the way Dorcas lashes out at Benjy who already looks like he's on the verge of crying himself, which he probably is. Fear makes people cruel, Mary thinks, and even though she's used to the blood and gore by now, she's not prepared for the way it looks a thousand times scarier when it's Emmeline Vance of all people right in front her.
Still, Mary's top priority right now is Emmeline and the healer in her knows that, logically, the bandages must have slowed down some of the bleeding. However, by the time she's gotten there, they've been completely soaked through and Mary knows that it's only a matter of time when someone loses this much blood. She's seen it enough times to recognise the signs. After all, it's part and parcel of her job, knowing when to call it when there's nothing to be done.
"I told you to keep her awake!" Dorcas continues to yell at Benjy. "I told you-"
"She told me to go stand guard!" Benjy protests.
Mary rolls her eyes. She's fine with tuning them out, but it's then she finally hears Emmeline speak, in defense of Benjy, who's getting his head bitten off by Dorcas.
"He was gonna puke..."
As expected, Emmeline's voice is weak. Still, it's an extremely good sign that she's conscious. Mary's beyond relieved that she's alive, for now, but she can only imagine the amount of pain the other girl is in, not to mention the fact that she's still very much toeing the line between life and death.
"I was not!" Benjy yells back.
Mary watches as Emmeline tries to shift the weight of her body in her cot, to get a better glimpse of Benjy and Dorcas perhaps, and even with her eyes closed, she can tell from her grimace that Emmeline must be in an excruciating amount of pain when she tries to move.
"Stop moving."
Mary grits her teeth, spitting out the words at Emmeline and forcing herself to stop trembling when she nudges Emmeline with her free hand to keep her from moving. It's genuinely amazing how stubborn Emmeline can be sometimes. Mary can tell, from the look on Emmeline's face, that there's a shift in her demeanour when she hears and recognises Mary's voice. Mary avoids looking at Emmeline directly and out of the corner of her eyes, she sees the other girl's eyes flutter open, blinking as they adjust to the sunlight seeping through the barn doors. To distract from Emmeline's gaze, Mary begins peeling off the bandages to assess the damages and tries not to wince at the sight of it.
“Hi, Mary. Are you going to fix me?” Emmeline croaks, eyes gazing up at Mary.
There's something about hearing Emmeline say her name. Mary hates it when her voice's soft, making her lower her inhibitions. It's been, what, a month since she last saw Emmeline? She wishes she has time to savour this, how much she's missed the sound of Emmeline's voice, though it's a fact she'll never admit out loud.
The sound of Emmeline's voice is capable of making her forget why she ever needed the distance between them in the first place
Truth be told, it had been a bit of a 180 to go from constantly seeing someone during the summer to zero contact the past month. It's okay because Mary knows how to keep busy, throwing herself into work and then spending time with her family and friends when she's not. If she keeps busy, she won't think about all the what-ifs with Emmeline Vance and whether she's made the right choice walking away that night at the back alley of the Leaky Cauldron. She doesn't let herself think about Emmeline, and when thoughts about the other girl creep into her mind late at night, she beats them away like a beater and an unwelcome bludger.
So it's been a month and there's no scenario in which she imagines that this is the way she sees Emmeline next, bloodied and bruised and on the brink of death. Mary knows she'll try to fix Emmeline if the last thing she ever does, but she'll be damned if she gives Emmeline the satisfaction in doing so. After all of their conversations about Emmeline constantly landing herself into St Mungo's and into Mary's care. After all of the times Mary's told Emmeline to take care of herself and to stop putting herself in situations like these.
She knows she'll always come back if Emmeline gets hurt, but the last thing she wants is for Emmeline to figure that out. Maybe she's just petty like that.
"Shut up." Mary says instead, gritting her teeth as she dives into the healing.
She takes off the rest of the bandages, all of which have already been soaked through and through, and points the tip of her wand at Emmeline's wounds to temporarily stop the bleeding. It's bad, and it's up there with some of the worst injuries Mary has seen at St Mungo's. She can't even count the number of open wounds on Emmeline's torso. They must have used some sort of spell that slashes her skin and holds it wide open. The way the blood is still flowing out of her, it's evident that dark magic's involved because the bandages doesn't seem to have any effect on the bleeding.
"Jesus, Em, they gutted you." Mary's voice is softer this time, though it wasn't a conscious decision on her part.
"Tried to." Emmeline says weakly with an attempt at a smile.
The thought of death eaters cursing Emmeline like that makes her so fucking angry, and, well, fear, it makes her mean too. Mary pushes away the emotions that come with the recognition that it's Emmeline on the metaphorical table and dives into full-healer mode. She barks orders for the blood-replenishing potions and essence of dittany that she needs - that Emmeline needs - and Dorcas obliges without hesitation. Dorcas grabs Benjy by the hand and swiftly disapparates with him and just like that, they're left alone in the barn.
If these were better circumstances, Mary wouldn't speak. She'd press her lips into a thin line and she'd pout like a little girl, letting Emmeline squirm. Emmeline would make a joke or two trying to get her to say something and Mary eventually would, even if she's just using Emmeline as a punching bag for everything she hates about their circumstances, about the war and all of it.
But these aren't better circumstances. Right now, she needs to keep Emmeline awake. The moment she loses consciousness, she knows the chances of her making a full recovery fall drastically. She tries to fool her mind into thinking that it's just another patient. She can't because it's Emmeline, bloody and in pain and yet, still, there's still that look in her eyes when she stares back at her. So, Mary avoids eye contact with Emmeline and wonders if the other girl has missed her just as much as she has.
Wounded as she is, Emmeline manages to crack a joke or two and Mary thinks she would take her pain away if she could. She truly would.
Mary tries not to cry. She only manages to start a few simple healing spells before the tears start forming in her eyes. This time, she doesn't hold it in because it blurs her vision and she needs to be able to see to perform the magic. So she lets it fall as she continues, blinking them away whenever possible and letting it fall down her cheeks. She wishes she were stronger and knows how she must look to Emmeline.
"I'm sorry."
Emmeline apologises, for her tears or for something more, Mary doesn't know. Like that'll do anything to fix things between them.
"I don't want your fucking apologies."
Mary bites back but it's the truth. Right now, she just wants Emmeline alive. There's only one thing she wants from Emmeline and it's something she can't give her.
"I know." Emmeline says simply.
Mary's lips tremble and an involuntary sob slips out of her throat.
"It doesn't even hurt that much, see?" Emmeline jokes, trying to make light of the situation. Maybe it works, because it makes Mary angry again and stops her tears from falling briefly. Emmeline attempts to move to show Mary that she's not in that much pain despite having quite literally been torn apart.
When Mary puts her hand on Emmeline's shoulder to steady her on the cot, Emmeline reacts and puts her own hand on top of hers. Mary doesn't know what it means, but she doesn't pull her own hand away either. Hard as she tries, Emmeline's hand is trembling, whether from the pain or whether from Mary's touch, she doesn't know.
"I'm not going anywhere." Emmeline says, voice barely a whisper, her hand giving Mary's a slight squeeze, like that'll convince her. Mary knows that Emmeline believes what she's saying but they both know it's not a promise she can keep. It's only a promise for now, while the rest of it is left up to fate.
It doesn't help that she can easily imagine Emmeline dying in her arms.
"You can't keep doing this, Em." Mary sighs. There's not much she can say at this point, but she can't help but wonder if there's a world in which Emmeline loves herself enough to leave it all behind. A world in which she doesn't have to be a martyr.
"But then there'd be no excuse for you to touch me, would there?" Emmeline looks at Mary, refusing to let go of her gaze.
Mary would strangle Emmeline, if she weren't already on the brink of death. This is the part where she'd kiss Emmeline, if there weren't a war raging on and she weren't deathly afraid of Emmeline meeting her fate at the hands of a dozen Death Eaters. This is the part where she thinks she'll let Emmeline touch her in thousands of ways if she chooses to leave the war behind, and that they don't need excuses to hold one another. But truth is they're not, and this isn't some sort of alternate reality where Mary can just forget that Emmeline's chosen the war instead of her, so there's venom in her words as she responds.
"Fuck you."
There's the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them and it's just Dorcas, bringing the two of them back to reality. Mary jumps at the sound, and she lets go of Emmeline's hands reactively if more than anything. Mary doesn't really know why she did it. It's only Dorcas, after all, and if there's one person who understands, it's her. Still, she doesn't want Dorcas thinking that there's anything going on between her and Emmeline because well, frankly, there isn't. She'd rather not make things awkward between them because she knows Dorcas and Emmeline are close, to say the least.
"Here. Dittany and blood replenishers, as requested." Dorcas says, handing Mary the potions.
"Cheers." Emmeline says weakly.
"Thanks." Mary thanks Dorcas and dives back into healer mode - as professional as she manages to be, as a way to avoid looking at Dorcas or Emmeline. It's not like she and Emmeline were doing anything but she still feels guilty for some reason.
"I'll be outside, if you need me." Dorcas excuses herself, presumably to join Benjy who hasn't come back into the barn, and they're left alone again.
They don't talk much after that, despite the fact that Emmeline keeps looking at Mary with that look in her eyes, like she's expecting her to say something. The silence isn't uncomfortable, exactly, but the words unsaid linger heavy in the air as Mary performs spell after spell on Emmeline'e body.
Eventually, once Emmeline's stabilised, Mary gives her something that'll help her rest for a bit. Emmeline hesitates, but Mary promises her that they'll be here keeping her safe.
Mary watches as Emmeline drifts asleep and Mary's hand in hers and she thinks, well, finally, with her eyes closed, Emmeline doesn't look like she's in pain anymore. She's put on a front like it doesn't hurt that much but Mary knows well enough that it's just the combination of a lot of adrenaline and an equal amount of stubbornness.
Mary takes a few more minutes to take in the sight of Emmeline asleep. She eventually gets up from her chair, gently pulling her hand out from Emmeline's grasp and walks back outside the barn. Mary sees Benjy first, casting protection spells around them. She forces a smile as Benjy pulls her into a shaky hug, for both of their sakes. He holds her and whispers a soft thank you into her ears and Mary lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in. The wave of emotions that passes through Benjy and Mary both seem to find some comfort in each other's touch.
"Can you tell Dorcas that I'm going to report to Mad-Eye when she comes back?" Benjy says after letting go of Mary and taking a brief moment to compose himself. "She'll understand what it means." Benjy adds, seeing the look of confusion on Mary's face. Mary only manages to nod despite her confusion, her voice caught in her throat.
When Benjy apparates away, Mary's breath hitches as she lets out a sob. She kneels down there in front of the barn, remembering to breathe in and breathe out, her panicked breathing slowing down as she tries to focus on reality. She reminds herself that Emmeline's okay, for now. Mary's fixed her. The worst of it has passed, though she's not sure what she would have done if she weren't able to save her and the thought of that adds yet another wave of nausea, causing her breathing to become uneven again and the tears to spill out again.
She can't even wipe away her tears because her hands are soaked with blood - Emmeline's blood. She hadn't paid much attention to herself when she was treating Emmeline, but now, she notices quite literally just how much blood is on her hands.
Mary sits down on a patch of grass and starts casting scouring charms to clean off the blood. The magic is rough and she uses a bit more force than necessary, focusing her magic on herself. It's her way of trying to feel something other than this aching pain in her heart. All the while she's wiping away at her tears with the parts of her forearm that don't have Emmeline's blood on them.
Mary feels someone sit down next to her on the grass and she lifts her head briefly to see that Dorcas is back from wherever she's gone. Mary continues with the repetitive motions, cleaning up the rest of the blood and avoiding Dorcas' eyes in the process.
"Emmeline?" Dorcas asks, voice low.
"She's resting. You should give the blood replenishers an hour to do their work before you move her. And you should still take her to St Mungo's. The dittany helped, but I can't guarantee that the spells I used will prevent the wound from re-opening." Mary responds.
"And Benjy?" Dorcas asks next.
"Told me to tell you that he's reporting to Mad-Eye. Said you'd understand what that meant."
Mary finally manages to get rid of most of the blood on her hands - Emmeline's blood - and she looks up at Dorcas. The side of Dorcas' face is stained with blood, and thankfully, most of it appears to be dried. There's still a bit of fresh blood from where the wound is, the part of Dorcas' ear where a chunk of her earlobe seems to be missing.
"Suppose I should take care of that splinching while I'm here." Mary offers. It's not like she's in a hurry to go anywhere.
"Sure, if you don't mind." Dorcas responds, and by the looks of it, it's like Dorcas only just remembered that she's injured as well. Mary supposes that's what adrenaline does. That and watching your friend almost die.
"Does it hurt?" Mary observes the wound from afar.
"A bit." Dorcas admits.
"Here, let me see."
Mary moves closer to the other girl, tilting Dorcas' head so she can get a better view by placing her hand on Dorcas' jaw. Mary conjures a cloth and casts a quick aguamenti, cleaning up the blood on the side of Dorcas' face. She's pretty sure that Dorcas probably has other injuries, considering the state she's in. She sees Dorcas grimace as the water touches the open wound, though the other girl's exceptionally good at keeping still despite it.
Dorcas has her eyes closed and Mary tries to be as gentle as possible, knowing how much it probably hurts without any of the painkilling potions that she normally would have given her if they were at St Mungo's. She'd just given the scarce amount that Dorcas and Benjy managed to get to Emmeline, so there isn't any left for Dorcas.
"Well, it could be worse. I can clean it and speed along the healing process - make sure it doesn't get infected. But, well, unless you managed to save the bit that got splinched, I don't know if it'll possible to regrow." Mary explains.
"That's fine. I don't care." Dorcas says nonchalantly.
Mary wishes she did, though she doesn't voice that thought out loud. She wishes that her, Emmeline and Benjy cared just a little bit more about their own lives fighting in this war.
"You're lucky that it didn't stretch any further up. Could've permanently damaged your hearing. Just how far were you trying to apparate?" Mary asks curiously.
"Too far, I guess. To be fair, though, I was in a bit of a rush." Dorcas gives her a shrug, like she does this all the time. Mary thinks she probably does.
"Right." She forgets for a second that Dorcas can't exactly explain what they've been doing for the Order. What almost got the three of them killed. Mary tries to not feel bitter about the secrecy, despite having quite literally saved the day. She made her choice long ago, and she supposes her imagination as to what happened couldn't be too far off from reality.
Mary starts the healing process on Dorcas' earlobe and despite the less than ideal circumstances, it's easy to focus on the task at hand and to put her emotions aside for a second. It's what she's trained to do. It's what she's good at, fixing people. Fixing Dorcas - fixing Emmeline.
"There. It'll take some time to heal completely, but, well, I've done about all that I can." Mary moves to clean off the last of the blood from Dorcas' cheeks.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
Without the distraction that comes from focusing on healing, Mary feels the tears threaten to spill out again and avoids looking directly at Dorcas.
"I mean it, Mary, thank you. I know that you don't want to be involved in any of this. But, well, there was nobody else and Emmeline..." Dorcas' voice drifts away, and Mary knows they're probably thinking the same thing. There's no way to sugarcoat the fact that Emmeline was dying and that they needed a healer.
"It's fine." Mary says, and it's both a lie and the truth.
They sit there in silence, and Dorcas doesn't really react when Mary keeps lifting up her arms to wipe away the silent tears that fall. In between, Mary keeps glancing at the barn where Emmeline's sleeping peacefully behind those doors. She's not capable of putting her own emotions into words, not when every little thought in her mind just screams Emmeline's name.
"Erm...I won't tell anyone, just, you know." Dorcas says after a moment, noticing Mary's gaze. "If you were worried about that, i just wanted to say, don't be. I didn't mean to intrude."
"You weren't intruding." Mary reassures her. "And there isn't anything to tell." She hopes her voice doesn't sound as bitter as she feels. All her and Emmeline are is what could have been.
"Oh. Sorry, I guess I misinterpreted." Dorcas quickly apologises.
Mary wishes she could tell Dorcas that she isn't wrong, that Emmeline means more than the other girl will ever know but it's not even a feeling Mary can admit to herself. She wishes there were something to tell, that Emmeline wasn't a part of it so they could finally get a go at it. She wishes she were a stronger person, that she would be able to handle the thought of possibly losing Emmeline to the war, to death itself.
If Emmeline had died today, it would have been for Benjy and for Dorcas, so it's not like Mary can ever fault Emmeline for being brave. Stubborn, but brave.
She could love Emmeline, but for the war.
"It's hard enough..." Mary's voice drifts off.
It's hard enough living in a war. It's hard enough watching from the sidelines when the people you love are out there sacrificing themselves for the greater good. It's hard enough worrying every day whether the people who walk out the doors are going to come back. It's hard enough falling in love without falling in love with a war itself, with a girl that would throw herself on the front lines if it meant saving just one person. It's hard enough falling in love with someone who could slip through her fingers just like that and not being able to do a bloody thing about it. Truth is, Mary just isn't sure if her heart could ever handle it.
Mary feels her jaw clenching involuntarily, and she tries to get herself to relax because if there's one person that understands what she's going through, it's Dorcas Meadowes. The girl who gave it all up for her best friend. The girl who Mary could have easily become, if she had a little less to lose.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Mary sees that Dorcas is tugging at the hem of her own shirt, a large part of it soaked with blood.
"Are you injured elsewhere?" Mary asks, glancing at Dorcas' blood-stained shirt.
"It's not mine." Dorcas replies simply, words heavy in the air.
"Oh."
Mary wonders what it would be like to have as big a heart as Dorcas does, to love Marlene the way she does. To join a war because of the girl she loves, to protect and be willing to die for the girl she loves. It's not like she's never thought about it, to say fuck it all and be on the front lines with Marlene and Dorcas and Emmeline and Lily. But it isn't just Marlene and Lily. It's the thought of doing that to her mom and dad, to Eli and Georgie.
They sit there on the grass for what feels like hours, time passing in a way that doesn't feel real. Mary gazes at the scenery in silence, thoughts rolling through her head like a hurricane. She suspects the hills afar would look rather pretty if it weren't for the dire situation they were in.
"I made a deal with Dumbledore." Dorcas blurts out after a beat, breaking the silence. "My life for hers."
When Mary doesn't know how to respond, the silence between them only seems to amplify the gravity of those four words. She'd suspected as much, though Dorcas had never voiced it out loud, not to her at least. Mary doesn't know how to look at Dorcas with that knowledge and keeps her gaze focused on the skies above.
"Please don't tell her." Dorcas' voice is quiet, though the panic in her voice is there. "I don't even know why I just told you. I just..."
Mary lets out a sarcastic laugh. She loves Marlene McKinnon, but sometimes, Marlene can be thick as hell. Marlene probably won't ever know the fact that Dorcas is laying her life on the front lines for her, believing that she's in it for the cause, for all the right reasons that don't have anything to do with loving Marlene McKinnon.
But then again, Dorcas is her own person, her own force of nature. It's not like Marlene could ever force Dorcas to do something that she didn't want to, though love almost always puts the blinders on someone from seeing what they truly want. To fall for someone like Marlene McKinnon, someone who thinks she's living for a bigger cause, that her existence is measured by the number of lives she saves, well, maybe Dorcas never had a choice to begin with. Maybe Mary never did either, but that's only something she'll realise in hindsight.
"She won't find out. At least not from me."