Who: Caden Flint and Estella Derrick
What: They meet at an unusual spot and things are revealed
Where: An unusual spot lmao
When: July 14, 1978
He really couldn't believe that it had been exactly three years, yesterday. Three years of her being gone. Three years of waking up to find that she wasn't there, laying beside them in thier bed. Time passed by so fast, and he felt like it was only yesterday that he had heard those words from the Healer. She's...she's gone. We couldn't save her. The baby is just fine, but...I'm so sorry.
Gone. She was gone. The only thing that was left of her was Marcus. He found it ironic...that the cause of her death was what he was supposed to take care of. He was supposed to hold, and take care of the thing that killed the only woman he had ever loved. Caden hadn't even shed a tear when he found out that his wife was dead. He didn't cry at the wake. Or the funeral. He couldn't. He couldn't feel anything but anger as he watched her get lowered into the ground. He didn't speak a word. He remembered filling out the papers. He remembered getting the flowers, and everything else, but he didn't speak to anyone. Not even Jolene got much out of him. He remembered standing next to her, holding her hand, waiting for her to tell him that it was a dream, and that he could wake up now. But he didn't wake up. She was dead. Gone. How was he supposed to celebrate the day of his son's birth when it was the day of his wife's death? He didn't. But there was something he had to do. Something he couldn't bring himself to do on the exact day, but forced himself to do the day after. Go visit Mackenzie. That was what he was doing at the moment.
He was lowered down in front of her grave, his fingers outstretched to clear some dirt away from her name. Still, he didn't cry. He just stared at the name carved in the marble, and took a deep breath before exhaling it slowley, his eyes shutting as he bowed his head down, shaking it side to side. "You don't even know how much I miss you..." He would have stayed this way for the entire day. Just knowing she was near was some sort of comfort. But a sudden flash brought him out of his daze. He opened his large green eyes to look around, finally spotting someone with a camera hiding behind a tomb. His jaw clenched, as he rose to his feet, turning his back on his wife's grave, towards the photographer. The man shot another picture before the camera was snatched out of his hand and thrown with full force against the tomb they were standing next to. "Fuck off." Caden snarled before continuing on his way, ignoring the furious remarks from the paparazzi that was tailing him. He wasn't paying any attention to where he was going, and before he knew it he was shoved gently by someone who was walking in the opposite direction. A huff was let out s he turned to confront whoever it was "Watch where you're going, you stupid fu-" he stopped short as he realized who it was. Shit. Great. Just what he needed. He sighed and tried to stop shaking. He was so fucking angry. "I didn't mean-...sorry."
Estella hated cemeteries. She always had, and she always would and it was only the immense guilt that seemed to consume her that managed to push her through the front gates. She didn’t really see the reason of visiting the gravesite; it wasn’t as if Jake could actually hear her, it wasn’t as if he’d come back to this world as a ghost, which would have been even more terrible than not seeing him at all. Not being able to touch him, not having him be able to hold his son? Just---it was a joke. Her visit today had been out of guilt Jake’s mother had drilled into her the day before; she’d dropped by without warning to drop off some pictures of Jake from when he was a child, so Jacob would have images of his father, so that he wouldn’t forget---the last bit was said with a pointed look in Estella’s direction, and the woman had immediately feigned a headache to get her former mother-in-law out of the house.
She hated her, she always had.
Her eyes had been locked on the ground as she followed the somewhat familiar path up to Jake’s grave when she was rammed into; who bloody rammed into people in a cemetery? Estella looked up and glared, but her angry expression immediately morphed into one of surprise as she recognized the man from Jacob’s former gym. This was an all wizarding cemetery, so---he was---oh. Estella blushed deeply and pushed her hair out of her face as the wind was whipping rather hard.
“Er---s’alright,” she said quietly, making to continue on her way because a cemetery wasn’t exactly the place to hold a conversation. Estella sent him a soft smile and nodded but as she passed him she noticed there were about four or five men with cameras coming down the aisle of tombstones---what? She turned back to the man, “Are they---they’re following you? Oh---er---I have a car, I can---get you out of here.”
Caden was as aware of her being a witch, as she was about him being a wizard, so this was the last place he thought he'd ever see her. He would have probably said something more to her, had they not been at this exact place at this exact time, but right now he wanted nothing more than to just get home. It'd be quiet there, since Jolene was watching Marcus, and he could just rest. But, because things never went the way Caden expected them to, he was stopped in his tracks by a few more members of the press. He could feel his heart racing in his chest as he tried his best not to punch every single one of them in the face. His head tilted downwards in a horrible attempt to hide his face, his hands balled into fists. He gave a glance to Estella and nodded his head in response to her first question.
Her second however, made him raise a brow. What the hell was a car? Fuck it, it didn't matter right now. He gave another nod after a flash went off in his eyes, letting her lead the way to whatever this 'car' thing was that she had. Watching her get inside, he followed suite on the other side, closing the door so that they could take off. The flashes died down and once they were out of range, he looked out the window and then looked at his lap, where his hands were laying. His knuckles had turned white from how tight his hands were bunched up. His breathing was a little heavy as he glared at the dashboard. How could they? How the fuck could someone take pictures in a cemetery, just to earn a few bucks? It was ridiculous. Nothing was said for a few minutes at least until his mouth finally opened, once he was calm enough to form words again.
"Thank you..." He glanced over to her before he leaned back in the seat, staring up at the roof of the car as his fingers flexed.
Estella was silently panicking. She’d just let a complete stranger into her car. He—well, he…she supposed she knew him, kind of, but---she’d just up and offered when he could as easily have disapparated, but she…oh, why did she offer? Those photographers seemed so annoyed, and the man (she didn’t know his name and she’d let him in the car, oh, oh) looked ready to kill and this was just a bad idea. They’d driven for almost ten minutes in silence before the man thanked her, and Estella flushed from embarrassment and simply because she didn’t know what to do.
“It’s---fine. They shouldn’t be bothering you there,” she muttered, stopping at the red light, hands gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. She risked looking over at him before looking back at the road quickly, shoulders scrunching. Here she was with an extremely handsome man whose name she didn’t know, who had been followed by photographers in a cemetery, and was apparently a wizard when she’d thought she’d never see him again after the infamous ball pit fight.
Life was so bloody confusing. “Erm.” The light turned green and Estella turned left even though she had no idea where she was going. “Why were they---what’s your---sorry, I’ll just drive.”
They shouldn't be bothering you there.
Huh. Really? Guh, he couldn't even say anything snarky to her right now. She had just saved his neck and all he could do was think of how horribly obvious that statement was. His head was spinning, and part of him wished he had stayed and just hexed them all so they couldn't see anything for a week or two. That'd make taking pictures a bit difficult, wouldn't it? But, the other part of him, the more reasonable part that only kicked in every now and then was telling him that this was the right choice, and that his career could be over if he had blinded about 6 members of the press. It was still very tempting, though.
Her quiet 'erm' made him look over to her, not helping but stare for a second as she asked the questions. She really didn't know who he was? Had he really not even told her his name, even when he met her at the gym? The answer was yes. And the reason for that was the rubber ball that had been thrown at her son's face by his own. Yeah, that wads a bit distracting. Clearing his throat he stared out of the window.
"It's refreshing to meet someone who doesn't know who I am," he said with a sigh, a hand raising to the back of his neck while his head tilted from one side to the other, hearing a light crack with each motion. He was trying to relax, but it was hard to do in such a small space. "You've heard of Puddlemere United, yeah?" he looked over long enough to see her nod his head before he went to staring out his window at the passing scenery.
"I'm Caden Flint...I'm their Chaser...or, well, one of 'em." He watched things pass by for a few more seconds before he continued. "The press'll do anything for a good story...I wouldn't be surprised that if they got a picture of me and you just standing in a 4 foot radius of one another there'll be a story tomorrow morning about how I'm having a 'steamy love affair with a mystery girl at the cemetery'." He scoffed and felt his hands curl into fists again. "It's disgusting how low they'll stoop to meet their weekly gossip quota." He sounded very tense, but he wasn't about to go off. He just needed to let out some steam.
The only reason Estella knew of the Puddlemere United was because they’d been everywhere when they won the British League Cup, and even then she only saw the name in passing and for the longest time she thought they were some sort of military thing that was getting set up…right, she wasn’t the best at figuring out the obvious, but when she spotted broomsticks and those big red balls (that’s the one the Chasers played with, right? Qoofles?) she realized it was just a game and no more attention should be paid.
Well, now she was regretting it, because if she’d known she had been talking to a famous quidditch player at Jacob’s gym then…well…she probably wouldn’t have talked to him. Not that---oh, he wasn’t bad to talk to, she just wouldn’t have had the nerve and then she wouldn’t have felt the need to help him in the cemetery and…bugger, she didn’t know, Estella was just driving aimlessly and listening to Caden (Caden Flint, okay, she had a name now, that calmed her nerves slightly) go on about the photographers, and almost ran a stop sign at the idea of herself being involved in a steamy love affair.
She didn’t, though, but slammed on the brakes rather hard before she blew the sign completely.
“They---what? Oh, no, no, I can’t have that, I’ve got a son and---” no, Estella, you don’t have a husband, “I can’t, not with Jacob, I---we’re,” she stuttered over her words, looking back out on to the road and only moving forward when the car behind her honked for sitting there for so long. “Can you stop it? I---oh, fucking hell---”
He had to grab onto the little handle on the side of the door to make sure he didn't fly forward when she put her foot down on the thing that made the...whatever it was they were sitting in, stop. She was freaking out, and that was really the last thing he wanted to have to deal with right now. Taking a deep breathe, he composed himself, and refrained from asking about what the hell that noise was that caused her to start moving again. This really wasn't the time or place.
"I don't know..." He said honestly, adjusting himself in his seat. "I can try and write to someone I know, who might be able to help. And I do emphasize the word might." Leaning back, he looked around. "I'd have to go back to my place...I might need to ask you a few things, so you'd have to come along. And, since I don't live on this street, or, in this country, to be more precise, I don't think this is the best way to get there, do you?"
Estella just nodded along with everything Caden was saying, already having made her way down to her own house. They weren’t too far, that was something she’d insisted when choosing Jake’s gravesite. It had to be close, not across the damn country like his mother had wanted. She was a witch, she could apparate----okay, no more thinking ill of her mother-in-law. Or, former. That had been one aspect of Jake’s life that Estella had been quick to dismiss. Not that there were many other things, but her in-laws hadn’t been the nicest of people.
She pulled into her driveway and turned off the car, staying seated for a moment with her hands gripping the steering wheel. Estella didn’t want the attention, but she didn’t exactly want to whisk herself away with someone who was practically a stranger to God knows where for who knew how long and---Her eyes caught sight of her neighbors on the front lawn of their house; mother, father, and son, playing with bubbles and other random objects. The pang in her chest caused her to look back at her house, where Jacob was asleep with his paternal grandmother. She felt horrible for the glare that flicked over her features for a moment, but she really didn’t want to deal with her family right now, so Estella turned to Caden with a soft smile.
“Yeah, that’s fine, if…you’re okay with side-along. My floo network’s down.” A lie, but then her mother-in-law would ask questions and…not needed, not at all.
He was glad to see that she was calming down, at least a little bit. He had more of a reason to worry about all of this than she did. Her face would be in a few papers for a day, if anything were to happen at all, but he would have to go around explaining what the hell it all meant. He just wanted one day. One bloody day to just be normal, and visit his Wife's grave without having to worry about shit like this.
When the car finally came to a complete stop, he took the opportunity to slide down in the seat, his fingers now playing with the bottom of the faded demim jacket that he had thrown over a t-shirt. He didn't bother with his appearance. It wasn't like he was trying to impress anybody. He has spent most of his time building up the nerve to actually go to the cemetary, so the fact that he had merely grabbed the closest thing to wear wasn't a surprise. His forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window, watching her neighbors play on the front lawn like a normal family. Fuck them. They didn't even realize how good they had it. He should have gotten out of the car and popped all of thier bubbles, but her voice snapped him back into reality. "Whatever." He said casually with a shrug of his shoulders. "Just give me a second..."
He needed to concentrate or they could wind up losing limbs. Focus on the house. Focus on the living room. Just...focus. Once he had a clear visual in his head he held out his hand for her to take. The feeling of her smooth small hand in his gave him a very odd feeling in his stomach that he tried to ignore as he once again began to focus on where they needed to go. Closing his eyes, there was a loud crack, and before they knew it they were no longer sitting in a car but on a very comfortable couch. He let go of her hand and immediately rose to his feet so he could get some quill and parchment to write that letter. The sooner they got this cleared up the better.
As he gathered what he needed he glanced over to Estella. "I'm sorry it's such a mess." It really wasn't. There were just a few toys lying around. But, in his eyes, it was...only because of who the objects belonged to.
Estella’s heart was beating faster than it ever had. Going off with some quidditch star, what would people think? No one would know, right? Oh---unless those pictures got out, and people could actually recognize her. Her brother and sister would be able to tell the truth, but her in-laws? Her own parents? Her in-laws would make her feel like shit, and her parents would be happy that she was beginning to move on. How fucking unfair was that? She didn’t want to move on, you weren’t supposed to move on from your husband, you were stuck with them, no—no not stuck, that sounds horrible---you were with them in richness and in poorer, in sickness and in health, till death---
Till death do you part. Estella really wished they’d never gotten to that point, but she pushed the thoughts aside as she took a seat on the nearest couch. The flat really wasn’t messy; if Caden thought his place was a mess, she could only imagine what he’d think of her house…not that she thought he’d ever get to see the inside of it, but the idea popped into her head that she needed to do some cleaning.
“It’s not a mess,” she said quietly, picking up what must be Marcus’ toy broom. “Your wife does a good job, with two boys.” Estella frowned, realizing she never got the chance to deal with her two rowdy boys.
…Merlin’s pants, she was like a bloody dementor, her thoughts sucked the very life out of her sometimes. Aloofly
He was only in the kitchen, the room connected to the room that she was sitting in, his hands opening and closing all kinds of drawers to try and find his parchment and his address book. Mackenzie usually took care of these things for him, and he hadn't had the need to write to anyone he didn't remember the address for in quite a long time. But, alas, he needed to find this book, and it was no where to be found. He lifted his eyes from the drawer he was looking in to stare at her when she spoke. Your wife.
He couldn't help but keep his focus on her for a few seconds longer before he swallowed roughly, looking back down into the drawer.
"My wife's dead." He was rather blunt, and quiet as he spoke, now finally grabbing hold of what he had been looking for. He moved over to the other couch, opposite to the one she was sitting on, so he could lean over the coffee table that was between them. He unrolled the parchment, and dipped the tip of his quill into a bottle of ink. "So, your name's Estella, right?"
His goal was to just move on from what they had just been talking about, his hand scribbling words on the parchment, keeping himself distracted with what he was writing.
Estella’s eyes didn’t drop from Caden as he walked from the kitchen to the living room, acting as if the statement should be something along the lines of common knowledge. His wife was dead? Dead? He still wore the ring---not that she was one to talk, but…oh. The cemetery. Everything was suddenly clicking together and Estella felt her throat close up. Those damn photographers had interrupted his time with his wife, and---bloody hell, she had been dreading visiting Jake’s grave and here was Caden, who couldn’t even do that in peace.
“Mine too,” Estella blurted, not realizing that this might sound a bit ridiculous at first. “My husband’s dead. I---oh that sounds…I mean to say…” she looked down at her hands, which were once again twirling her wedding band around. Oh God, she couldn’t start crying now, come on, you’re such a bloody wimp. “About a year ago, in the big Diagon Alley attack. Jacob’s birthday. It sucks, I---okay now I’m just rambling, but I’m sorry for---mentioning it, and---just---I---okay. Yes, my name’s Estella. Estella Derrick.”
Her sudden statement made his brows furrow, but before he knew it, he was looking at her in a way that he hadn't looked at anyone before. It was a look of compete and utter understanding. She had lost her husband, on her son's birthday, and he his wife, also on thier only child's birthday. He averted his eyes, watching her hands. That wedding band that he had noticed her spinning the other day, at the gym. He too wore the golden band that represented the eternal bond between a man and woman. Only, some people didn't want to accept, or couldn't except that that bond only lasted while both of them were alive. That they were...free, for lack of a better word.
He was more than thankful that she decided to finally answer his question. Nothing more was said on his part about his wife, now going back to writing on the parchment to clear up the whole paparazzi situation. He started to write out her name on the paper before the name clicked.
"D-e-r-r-i-c-k...right?" Glancing up to see her nod, he looked down again to write it out. He knew she looked vaguely familiar. They had gone to school together. Had been in the same bloody house, but had never talked. Not even once. Funny how things turn out. Two people who had never even said 'boo' to each other in the hallways were now going through the same exact thing. The only difference was his life story was printed out for the entire wizarding world to read about. At least she could grieve in private. "I'm sorry I wasted your time with all of this." He said, as he signed the bottom of it, turning it towards Estella, handing her the quill for her to sign. "Just, sign the bottom...she can't do anything about it's nothing more than a letter. This makes it...legal, or something." He shrugged his shoulders. He had never bothered to ask.
“Yes, that’s right,” Estella muttered, watching him scribble things down quickly. She didn’t know what she was getting into or if signing this paper was even going to help keep people out of her life, which she was quite sure it wouldn’t, but she signed the paper any way. It was better than doing nothing, right? It couldn’t hurt, unless it was some contract that forbade her to see her son again…which wouldn’t exactly---no, horrible thoughts, stop it.
Speaking of her son, or thinking about him, Estella knew she should probably get back. Lord knew that her mother-in-law was probably muttering nasty things about her into Jacob’s ear, and she’d have to go on another rant about things like that. Estella let out a short breath and stood, pushing her hair behind her ears even though the front layers were too short and fell out anyway.
“I…should probably head back. My mother-in-law’s probably trying to brainwash my son at the moment…” It was a weird attempt at a joke, but Estella cracked a small smile and put her hand out to shake Caden’s, “If you ever need a babysitter…well, Jacob needs friends that can keep him in check.”
Honestly, her whole family thought the ball pit incident was quite amusing.
After she signed it, he turned it around, put his own signature on the paper, and folded it neatly, slipping into an envelope that had the address he had been looking for on it. He sealed it shut and kept it on the table, rising to his feet as she did. He'd attach it to his owl's leg later, after she was gone. He slipped his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans, only now noticing how much taller he was in comparison. She was around Jolene's height, so he was used to the the slight tilt of his neck he needed to give in order to look at her.
He stood frozen for a second before he realized that her hand was outstretched towards him. Taking it in his own he gave it a gentle shake. "I'd say the same, but..." he couldn't complete his sentance, being that there were just too many reasons that he couldn't take care of another kid that wasn't even his, on his own. "I usually have my sister watch him, but...I'll be sure to remember your offer." He only now noticed that he was still holding and shaking her hand. Letting go, he leaned over to pick up the letter.
"I better, uh...I'm gonna go mail this. I'm sorry again." He walked around the table and started to make his way upstairs before he stopped and turned around to face her. "And, I'm also sorry, again about the whole...ball thing. Not that it matters much now, but I still feel horrible that he got so out of hand. He's hardly ever in hand, if that...makes any sense." By now, he was moving the envelope up and down, htting against the fingers of his other hand. He looked up at her and then gestured upstairs. "I better get this out." With that, he turned around and started upstairs, figuring she'd just...leave.
That was more than he's said in a very long time, to anyone who wasn't Jolene.
