ten
Gracie, Evan, and Pandora were ten now. You could see it when you looked at Gracie, but Evan thought he and Pandora still looked like they were nine.
Seeing Gracie slow down really scared him. She didn’t want to chase him anymore, instead choosing to make her way after him at a walk. He always tried to go slow wherever he went now (if she was trying to follow, at least), rather than running everywhere, just so she didn’t feel left out.
When Evan started walking towards the creek, Barty was already waiting for him at the tree line in the backyard.
“Hi!” Barty skipped forward and grinned, putting his arms on Evan’s shoulders and jostling him. His hair was grown out again, the sides of it shaved down a bit shorter than the top. Evan never really changed his hair. It had been the same shaggy blond mess as long as he could remember. “The big one-oh now, huh? Shit, you’re old.”
“You turn ten in, like, two weeks,” Evan countered, pushing Barty’s head away with his palm.
“Ugh, don’t remind me.”
Evan didn't really get what that meant. Were they supposed to be worrying about something?
Gracie made her way up to them, loosely wagging her tail. “Gracie! Not much of a puppy anymore,” Barty pouted, dropping onto his knees to pet her. She flopped down into the grass with a sigh. “Happy big one-oh to you too!”
He looked back up at Evan, squinting because of the sun. On his cheekbone, there was still a thin scar from their second summer. There was a matching one on the other cheek this time, too. Evan wanted to reach out and touch it, his hand even jerking by his side to do so. He played it off by itching his waist instead. “There was a big rainstorm a few nights ago, so the creek flooded. It’s deep enough to swing in to again.”
Last summer they weren’t able to jump off of the swing at all due to the lack of rain. Without rain, the creek really wasn’t all that deep. Jumping into it with the rain was probably a stupid idea too, but it was a fun one. Neither of them were very tall at the moment, so it wasn’t that much of a risk.
They both glanced down at Gracie, who seemed like she had no intentions of getting up, before tearing off towards the creek. They shoved each other to try to get to the swing first, limbs flying to prevent falling onto their faces. Evan grabbed onto the rope first, whooping victoriously and sticking out his tongue teasingly, but he was pretty sure Barty let him win.
That night, Barty followed him home without asking first. Evan threw an arm around his shoulder and told him about the dinner plans.
—
Pandora didn’t come this year. Well, she was going to eventually. She met some girl in art class, Lily, who invited her to her family's cottage. The two of them became best friends over the school year, which kind of bugged Evan. He didn’t have very many other friends apart from Pandora and Barty. Especially not at school.
Not that he wasn’t well-liked at school, he was decently popular, he just didn’t enjoy anyone's presence very much.
—
Regulus came back for a week, too. His older brother, Sirius, tagged along and hung out with them a few of the days. Evan liked Sirius, he was a lot funnier and much more talkative than his little brother.
“Reggie told me you like football?” Sirius asked him, crouching into the water and picking up a rock. He flipped it over in his hand and inspected it before chucking it downstream.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so. I play at home.”
Barty lifted his head up from where he was laying in the sun, mocking Evan. “ I guess so . Don’t listen to him, he’s good.”
Sirius snorted, looking over at them both. “Hogwarts has four teams. One for each house.”
Four teams seemed ridiculous, especially for a school that wasn't totally filled to the brim with students.
“House?” Evan questioned. He remembered reading something mentioning that, but couldn’t picture what it said at all.
“They make all the students take these exams before the year starts, sort them into little groups based off of it. They all have different stereotypes, or whatever. All bullshit if you ask me,” Sirius explained, picking up another rock and repeating the previous routine.
“You’re only saying that because you’re the only Black family member to not get Slytherin,” Barty laughed to himself, whistling lightly at the end of his sentence. Regulus swatted at his head. “Ow!”
Sirius didn’t say anything in response, just going stiff for a moment before continuing whatever the hell he was doing.
Evan heard about Sirius being dubbed as the 'black sheep' of the family, but he never knew why. This was possibly the stupidest reason there could be. It all sounded like it was just one of those silly personality tests Pandora always made him take, and it was deciding his family's view on him? Super rich people were weird .
The week they were there seemed to crawl by, only emphasised by the deafening silence in Evans room each night. He didn’t like when Barty wasn’t there, it made things feel all weird and wrong.
After all of the Crouch’s guests left, Barty came back with a bruise wrapped around his arm. It looked like someone grabbed onto him and didn’t let go, dark purple skin contrasting against his typical olive tone. Evan kept eyeing it, eventually getting caught and earning an eye roll. Barty kept a hoodie on after that.
Evan noticed him favouring the arm, wincing when he laid on top of it in bed that night. He offered to switch sides of the bed, so they could still face each other and talk without it hurting, but Barty just scoffed at him.
They were supposed to go to Xeno’s the next morning to play ping-pong. Evan lied that his stomach hurt so they could stay home.
—
The last few years of major injury-less summers caught up to them two weeks later.
They were at the creek, chasing each other through woods – part of some dumb variation of capture the flag they’d come up with a few days before. The woods were always sort of difficult to get through, tangles of roots acting as tripping hazards every few steps. For the most part, Evan memorised where each of them were. Afterall, he’d been playing in those woods since he was a toddler.
At least, he knew where they all were until he didn’t.
He tripped forward, flying into the ground at an alarming speed – hands splayed in front of him. His arms caught the majority of his weight when he landed, a disgusting crack! filling the air around him.
In Evan's mind, it sounded like a truck had backfired inside of him. A surprised yelp escaped his lips as he laid there, flat on his stomach.
Barty’s voice rang out, leaves crunching beneath his feet as he grew closer. “You okay?”
Was he okay?
“Uhm–” Evan choked when a sudden rush of hot pain shot up his arm. Bile rose in his throat without any warning. His head swam as he tilted it to the side and promptly vomited.
“What? What’s wrong?”
Evan yelled out through clenched teeth, pulling his knees under him and keeling over. He bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough that he started to taste blood.
“Ev? What’s wrong?” Barty repeated. Evan was pretty sure he was in front of him now, but his eyes felt foggy and weird.
There was a shadow next to him, he could make out that much. It moved around him, seemingly looking for something wrong.
Evan blinked tightly and, tentatively, did his best to sit all the way up. A high pitched whimper escaped his throat when he tried to lift his arm up. It just barely twitched, throbbing along with the skipping beat of his heart. God, was he going to throw up again?
“Wha–? Oh my god. Fuck!” Barty lowered himself to his knees, hesitantly reaching his fingers out. He didn’t try to touch his arm at all, just hovered there for a moment. Evan could make out a weird look on his face, one that was in between a mix of imgoingtobesick and holyshitholyshitholyshit . It distracted him from the pain for a split second, nearly making him want to laugh.
Barty’s voice lowered, words coming out softly. “ Evan. We’ve gotta go back to your house, okay? We’ll get your Mum, she’ll know what to do. She always knows what to do, yeah? I’m going to help you up,” He went around behind Evan, grabbing beneath his arms to lift him from, whispering sorrysorrysorry the whole time.
“Oh, shit,” Evan gasped when he got to his feet, his entire body quivering. For a second, his legs seemed to disappear beneath him. He blinked tightly again, preparing to fall once more, but was caught by Barty - Evan's good arm thrown over his shoulder.
Finally, he could mostly see again. A quick half-second glance down at his arm solidified the fact that he was screwed, an unnatural bulge jutting out and nasty bruises already becoming visible. The revelation was what brought on the tears, his eyes somehow remaining mostly dry before it.
Barty’s thumb ran back and forth across his side, hand clenched tight around Evan’s waist so he wouldn’t topple over again.
They started to walk together, but Evan was panicking more and more by the second. He couldn’t breathe, not at all. It scared him into stopping, his feet locking in place while he tried to get something even resembling a breath into his lungs.
Barty halted immediately, looking Evan in the eyes before placing a splayed hand on his chest. “It’s okay to cry, I promise, but you have to breathe .”
He looked at Evan expectantly, not moving his hand even an inch.
Evan sobbed, a sharp pitiful noise coming out. His chest hurt . His arm hurt. He felt sweaty and dizzy and he just wanted to sit down. "M-My fingers, I-I-I can't feel my f-fingers."
“Hey. Hey. It’s alright. It's the shock. I know it hurts, I’m sorry,” Barty grabbed Evan’s uninjured arm, splaying the hand on his own chest. His heart was thudding heavily beneath Evan’s hand, but his lungs filled and emptied squarely. “Focus here, Ev. Breathe.”
Evan nodded the best he could, taking short breaths in through his nose for what felt like hours. Eventually, he was able to get mostly deep, even, and functional breaths back.
“Good! Good. We’re almost back, okay? We’re nearly there. I’m sorry,” Barty said calmly. Evan didn’t really understand why he kept apologising, it wasn’t like it was his fault. He mumbled incoherently in response.
As soon as the house was within reach, Barty sat Evan down on one of the chairs in the yard and took off into the already-open doors. Everyone came running outside, rushing into his face and asking a million questions. Evan couldn't get any words out, making a low noise instead that confused himself. Pandora started bawling at the sight of him, which only made him cry even harder.
He needed to go to the hospital, that was clear. Barty refused to leave Evan’s side, clasping their hands together when Evan’s parents tried to get him to stay behind. Eventually, the two of them sat next to each other in the backseat, hand’s still held together.
Evan stared at their hands, refusing to lift his eyes away. He was certain his stomach would flip all over again if he even looked in the vicinity of his arm. He could also feel his Mum's pity-filled eyes burning into his skull, which he hated.
Barty watched him the whole drive too, offering him tissues whenever he'd wipe at his eyes or nose.
It was a nauseating process when they finally got there. Evan wasn’t sure how long they sat in the waiting room, everything seemed to move ten times slower than it should have been. Barty still didn’t let go. In fact, he didn’t let go until the doctors had to physically pry him away so they could x-ray Evan’s arm.
The doctors said that he needed surgery, to put in some piece of metal since the bone had nearly gone through the skin. Evan immediately hunched over the complimentary bucket they gave him, throat burning.
They, thankfully, knocked him out before touching it any further than the x-rays. Before they took him to operate, they asked what colour cast he wanted. He said green, it was Barty’s favourite.
—
A few hours later, or what Evan assumed was a few hours, he woke up and felt great . Next level great, like nothing had ever happened in combination with it also being the best day to ever exist. And, his arm looked super cool. It was bright green, just as they promised him.
He looked around the room sleepily. There was a blanketed lump on the couch against the wall, limbs poking out as they hung off of the cushions. It was obvious who it was.
“Ba–,” Evan coughed out, surprised at how dry his mouth was. A cup and jug of water sat on the table next to him, but he couldn’t reach it. He wasn't sure his limbs would even work if he tried to move them anyway.
Luckily, the cough was enough to wake Barty up. His head peaked out from the blanket, revealing puffy eyes, before he jumped up and ran over to the bed. “Morning, idiot.”
Evan kept coughing in response, glancing over at the water.
“Oh, yeah, oops,” Barty filled the cup, stiffly shoving it in Evan’s face until the straw met his lips. God, he had been thirsty. When he pulled his head away, they exchanged a silent conversation of You want more? and No, thanks . with just their eyes. “They pumped a bunch of drugs into you, I bet you feel amazing.”
A small giggle bubbled up in Evan’s throat, coming out hoarse and airy, which only made him laugh harder. He did feel amazing.
It turned out that his Mum went home to help with Pandora. Apparently she was still very upset, which made him feel upset too, but then his Dad brought cake from the food court which helped. He threw the cake back up fifteen minutes later, but it was nice while it lasted.
—
They let Evan go home the next day. His Dad and Barty weren’t allowed to stay the night, which Barty pitched a fit about, but they were both there bright and early to pick him up in the morning.
Honestly, Evan hardly remembered the drive back, being far too hopped up on painkillers to even think straight. What he did remember, though, was Barty’s thumb brushing calmingly on the back of their once-again-interlocked hands.
—
Two nights later, they laid in what had been dubbed their ‘mega-bed’ side by side. Evan was flat on his stomach with his casted arm across Barty’s chest, who ran his fingers up and down the fibreglass. It felt sort of gross and ticklish, but he didn’t say anything.
“Sorry for ruining our summer,” Evan broke the silence, immediately hoping his murmur would be completely muffled by his pillow. He felt awful about it. It was like they could barely do anything together anymore.
The pillow didn't do a thing. Barty’s fingers halted their motion, his head turning quickly to reveal a scowl. “Ruining?”
“I can’t get this thing wet, we can’t even swim anymore.”
“You didn’t ruin anything, you git. You didn't do it on purpose. Our summer isn’t just about being at the creek, either.” Evan figured that was true. They couldn’t swim or swing or sit and drink tea all the time. The two of them did other stuff. Occasionally. “I always have fun when we’re together. We can have a movie marathon! I still haven’t seen Star Wars .”
Barty knew exactly how to cheer Evan up with that. He’d been begging Barty to watch Star Wars ever since they were seven.
—
Return of the Jedi was saved until the last night of their summer. Just like last year, they laid on their stomachs in the tent, splayed out in front of the family laptop. Gracie put herself between them, her tail wagging every time some animal-looking-thing made a noise throughout the movie. By the time the credits ran she was snoring loudly.
“I don’t get it.” Barty looked genuinely confused when he flicked his eyes over towards Evan, who groaned and shoved his face into his pillow. “What? I mean, he was just kissing his sister a bit ago. His sister!”
Evan sighed, “He literally just saved the galaxy.”
He turned his head slightly, just enough to see Barty out of the corner of his eye, and waited for him to nod before continuing.
“And, Darth Vader basically redeemed himself. Even though he died immediately after. But Luke is a badass and saved everyone, pretty much.” Luke was by far Evan’s favourite character, from the movies at least.
“Hm. Well. I think I liked the third one we watched best, where Darth Vader wasn’t old and ugly. The one where he had long hair? And the sick scar? He looked awesome. Or maybe this one, I like those little gremlin monkey things.”
“Ewoks, B. Ewoks. Maybe I’ll find you a stuffed one for your birthday next year,” Evan did agree Anakin looked sick in the third movie, Barty was right about that much. He pulled his face out of the pillow and turned to lay on his side, reaching up to shut the laptop with his casted arm.
Barty smiled tiredly at him, flopping onto his back and stretching out his legs. “You’ll be here next summer, right?”
“Yep. Every summer.”
“Swear it?”
“Swear it.” Their fingers reached out towards each other, linking and shaking far-too-aggressively in the air (entirely Barty’s doing).