Sept. 1980: Do You Dare To Do This?: Fabian

[Kyra Thatcher]

Kyra's apartment

More and more often, on these quiet "off" nights, Kyra found herself dissatisfied. The notion left an ugly feeling in the pit of her stomach that cropped up these days. It wasn't a feeling she could admit, not when her best friend had such a fulfilling life. That picket fence life hadn't ever been something the blonde craved, and she didn't feel that that was what she truly wanted...House, dog, husband, kids, stable job - too much of a change from her current lackadaisical existence.

But coming home to someone was starting to sound awfully nice. It didn't have to be a man, since that was surely still far off. With no serious relationships under her belt, that sort of life shift would take a conscious effort. Asking upfront what he was looking for, and not pursuing him unless he wanted a future with her? Her apartment had been otherwise empty for years, since Liz had gotten serious with her now-husband. You could get a cat, Kyra considered as she poured her second glass of red. The drink made late night shows consume more of her attention, which was helpful in putting off such thoughts. She wasn't tired enough to sleep, and the chatter of the television helped lull her eventually...

The last thing she expected was an insistent knock on her door.

When she went out looking for a shag, Kyra took care to go to the bloke's place to prevent any unannounced visits later on. So it shouldn't be somebody she'd seen...And what friend would show up at this hour without calling? She replaced her wineglass with a small canister of pepper spray and approached her door as silently as she could manage. Up on her toes, she peered though the peephole, eyes widening as she saw who it was.

The man had been off the map this year, what in the name of all the gods was he doing here? Kyra set the canister down in the bowl that held keys and bobby pins and opened the door, brows furrowing as she looked him up and down.

"Fabs, what are you doing here? Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like hell."

[Fabian Prewett]

What are you even going to say to her?

He hadn’t thought it through, he’d just followed where his feet had taken him. The night air was cool, a breeze a reminder of how close he’d just come to losing his life. There had barely been a whisper in the air before Gideon had pulled him down, a hole behind him the only evidence of what he’d almost experienced. It was a clear indication that they needed to get the hell out of there, and a harsh reality check for him. It had only been when his brother was shaking him, desperately calling out his name that he had snapped out of it.

And he’d just left, left Gideon in the street without a word and come here. He needed to see her, he needed to tell her. They always said when death was that close you saw your life flash before your eyes, but he saw a lot of mistakes and all of them had been about her.

“I almost died,” he said in response to her words after she opened the door, hands fidgeting with his wand behind him. He hadn’t been followed, he made a point to apparate more than once before showing up on her doorstep. But they would need wards and he didn’t have time to explain everything because he needed to left alone just long enough to tell her the truth.

He eased his way inside, tucking his wand up his sleeve before he turned and locked the door behind himself, leaning back against it as he looked to her. The sound of the television in the other room made it safe to assume no one else was around, something that had gnawed at his mind on his journey over. He hadn’t seen her since the Bones family birthday party in July, an event he had been extraordinarily late to because of his new position. He didn’t have a right to be barging in on her like this.

“I have spent a lot of my time fighting myself on my feelings for you, because as happy as Edgar and Phoebe are I didn’t want to ever ask you to make the same choice she did,” he managed out, a lump in his throat threatening make his voice break. He reached out towards her, hand brushing hair out of her face, “So I need you to know that I love you, and I’ve been telling myself that when this f*cking war is over I’d tell you the truth but I can’t take my chances.”

[Kyra Thatcher]

For once in her life around him, Kyra was stunned into silence.

He almost died. And he came here.

She stepped back on autopilot to make room for Fabian as he came into her apartment, watching mutely as his sure hands swiftly bolted the locks, and his eyes found hers with an intensity she’d never seen. In all the years that the Prewetts and Ed had been involved in the military, Kyra could count the facts told to her about their work on one hand. It was something they always gave excuses to avoid talking about, keeping the lives they lived out of her sight in a careful shroud of mystery. And as exhilarating as it was to concoct her own theories about what it was they were up to, she’d always shied away from considering the dangers the men put themselves in front of. Part of that was self-preservation, because for as mad as they made her, she cared for the three of them deeply. Thinking of them in harm’s way was an easy means to make herself sick. But the other part was simply because of her ignorance of their situations - what were they even fighting against? What did their trainings and missions away entail?

Before she could find her voice, Fabian was...opening up. Giving a rationale for his unexpected arrival. He brought up Edgar and Pheebs, the sometimes unbelievable choice that her best friend had made to stay with the man once he’d been offered his position within the military. If it’s been tearing him up so much, he’s wanted to ask that of you. Kyra’s heart beat unsteadily in her chest as he reached for her, goosebumps tumbling into existence at his gentle touch. Her eyes locked on his as he went on, saying something she’d wondered about him since they were practically kids.

Fabian…does love you.
    
    And he doesn’t think he’ll survive this war.

...what war?

She knew - from songs, movies, books - what she was supposed to do in this situation.

Proclaim her love, and snog him until they were out of reasons to not be together.

But there was so much she wanted to ask, her mind hardly settled enough to let emotions overpower her. With the way that Fabian had showed up - riding the waves of emotion that had to come with a near-death experience - it hardly felt like the time to pester him with questions. From what had happened tonight, to if he was hurt, to how long he’d been "fighting" how he felt for her…what war, Fabian? From past hints, the twins and Ed had led her to believe they were involved in The Troubles, without confirming or denying it. But…how’d he get in from Northern Ireland this quickly? Because he must’ve been moving fast to get from where he’d been to here, judging by his appearance…

Kyra let out a breath and took his hand, trying to stay calm and not lash out with questions or laughter (because how had she been thinking about getting a cat not five minutes ago?), and led them to her living room. She sat him down with her on the couch, pulling her legs up and facing him, keeping his hand in hers. If they were going to do this - they were going to do this. Spontaneity had been the cause of many a fun memory for the twenty seven year old, but this was hardly something to take lightly.

"...I do love you." I think it’s why I’ve never been able to make a relationship work. Loving you, and that not being enough to keep us together when we've tried. "For years, there’s been a part of me that’s been lost to you, and I didn’t think...I honestly never thought we’d be having this conversation. I’m...relieved that we are. But I - I feel like I’m missing something here. And I can't just let myself run with this, with you, without knowing more. I get it," she continued rapidly, trying to slow her thoughts down, "if you can't tell me tonight, if you need to rest or - or go to the hospital or something. I'm shite with first aid, but I know I have band-aid's and hydrogen peroxide tucked away somewhere."

[Fabian Prewett]

It wasn’t the confession of love he’d planned on, or anything close to what she deserved. She dealt with his sh*t for over ten years now, she had every right to tell him to get lost. That he was a pathetic idiot who had his chance and made mistakes and that was it. It was what he deserved without a doubt, he knew that. But he wasn’t going to leave until she knew the truth, even the parts he wasn’t supposed to tell her. How many times had he told Edgar to just suck it up and tell Phoebe about magic? How many times has he told you to get your head out of your arse about Kyra?

And yet there was silence that answered his words instead of questions, and he felt goosebumps spread across his skin as she took his hand, leading him further into her apartment, a panic hitting his chest as she took him away from the door. Need to check the wards.... He had never left her defenseless after all, the three of them taking turns to make sure Kyra had a bit of magical protection over her place when they could. But it wasn’t enough, he needed to know that no one else was going to come knocking on her door. He needed to let Gideon know he was alright, needed to let Dumbledore know he was going to be okay.

He sat on the sofa, the noise from the television a welcome distraction from his mind as she finally spoke, her words making his heart skip a beat. Because - she loves you - but it seemed so unreal. That this wasn’t a one sided thing, and she was offering to help him with band aids, bless her. He found a chuckle escaping himself, a weird sound for how his day had been. He knew he looked rough, but the blood wasn’t his that he knew of. He should have cleaned himself up, made himself not look like he’d just walked away from a scrap. Clearly he had explaining to do, she’d have questions, she’d yell at him the second he told her that she’d already known the truth...

“I just, can you give me a minute?” he asked, standing from the sofa abruptly, giving her a nod before he fumbled his way to her bathroom, giving himself a once over in the mirror. He turned on the cold water, grabbing the nearest towel to wipe off his face. Pull yourself together mate, you’ve gotta tell someone where you are. He picked his wand up from the floor where he’d dropped it on his way into the bathroom, his brain searching for a happy memory.

New Years, 1972. Introducing Kyra to his family on his birthday. Halloween after Grayson was born.

“Expecto patronum,” he managed out, the wombat appearing on the ground in front of him. “Edgar, at Kyras. Find Gid, check HQ.” The wombat was off, and he stretched as he stood. He half expected Kyra to be waiting for him outside, but she wasn’t, and he took the moment to check the wards to his mind as he headed back to the living room.

He stood near the edge of the couch, unsure of where he needed to start. Placing his wand down on the table, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “This is a magic wand and I’m a wizard. I went to a magic boarding school, and after school I was in training to be sort of a wizard policeman? It’s more complicated than that but the point is - I’m not in our military. I’m in a secret order for a magical war against a madman who wants to kill, who does kill people who can’t do magic. I’m also not supposed to tell you any of this unless we are married.”

[Kyra Thatcher]

F*cking hell, this is why we never talk. Here they were, baring souls and insecurities and private battles, but they couldn’t stay in the same room for more than a few minutes. Kyra was relieved, honestly, Fabian excused himself after his stunned little laugh. She, too, needed a minute. She stretched and padded on socked feet to the kitchen, gathering the open bottle of wine, her semi-full glass, and an empty one in her arms. She was setting everything down on the narrow living room’s coffee table when she saw something moving out of the corner of her eye. At first it was just...unsettling. The large bobbing light coming down the short hall seemed like someone had slowed down the motion of a flashlight’s luminescence. But when it rounded the corner…

A little lumbering animal made of light looked at her curiously before disappearing in a streak much like the tail of a comet. She blinked. Hearing Fabian leaving the restroom only steps away, Kyra sat with her wine, insides oddly tickled at the sight of...whatever that was. What is going on here? Still in a state of process when Fabs appeared, fresh-faced but worried still; she looked up at him and he...launched into a concise explanation of turning over lies she’d believed for the last ten years. Nodding, eyes a bit wide, she took him at his word. Because, honestly, this made a lot more sense than the excuses she’d been insulted they expected her to believe.

"I figured something was up when an animal made of light waddled out of the bathroom," Kyra said after a short quiet, with forced nonchalance, although her insides were spinning. She deliberately avoided his eye as she went for her glass, taking a slow drink. Oh, who are you kidding, you can’t keep this up. You’re thrilled. Besides the magical madman who wanted her and people like her dead, this was an absolute dream come true. Magic was real, and Fabian was a wizard. He was fighting in a war, but it was a war to protect...her. And others like her, naturally. This explained...so much. And was making her heart just…ache. Fine, Pheebs. You’re right. Nobility is its own kind of attractive. It was so much more than that, but for now, all she knew was that she wanted him to stop just standing at the foot of her couch. Setting down her glass, Kyra let out the grin she’d been holding and patted the cushion beside her. "Fabs. Your hovering is making me anxious. Breathe. C’mon, I always knew there was something different about you."

She put the shouldn’t’ve told you that until we got married bit to bed for now, although it did help show her why she hadn’t yet been told any of this. There were rules in this secret society of wizards and witches, and she could respect that, even if it was maddening to know that this world had been under her nose for so long. There was so much she wanted to ask, so much she wanted to do. She needed to make a T chart comparing what she’d thought to what he was telling her was true. She needed to know more about this man who wanted her dead. She needed to know if his feelings for her had played a part in him joining this fight. Her eyes darted to his and...to the wand on her otherwise perfectly mundane coffee table. You can’t put a magic wand in front of me and expect it to stay there. He certainly wasn’t going anywhere. There would be time for questions. But…it’s a magic wand, Fabian. I have to touch it. As if approaching a sleeping bear, Kyra gingerly stretched out her arm towards it; scenarios rushed through her mind of what this experience could be. At worst, the wand would rebel against her, although if that were the case she was certain Fabian wouldn’t have put it within arm’s reach. So, really, the worst...was if it felt like picking up a stick. No surge of magic, no rush of an otherworldly breeze, just...nothing. Confirmation of her ordinary existence.

Before the woman could talk herself out of the most likely scenario coming true, she abruptly took hold of the wand around the handle. The wood was less alive in her hand than a drumstick was. Kyra tried to battle the sinking of her heart, sitting back with it and looking it over from end-to-end with a critical eye as she swallowed her disappointment. So, what, it wasn’t magic in her hands - but she could still learn from it. You knew this would happen, don’t be so put out. If there was any chance you were magical, he wouldn’t’ve kept this from you. The worn imprint around the handle would fit his hand perfectly. It was no idle tool in his hands, surely; creation, destruction, both and everything in between? What sorts of magic actually did exist? And the wand couldn’t just be wood, what was inside to help give it the ability to channel Fabian’s gift? After a time of quiet inspection, she held it again in her dominant hand, hating how much she was still, in the back of her mind, hoping futilely for it to do something. "What does it feel like," she asked quietly, surprising herself, "when you hold this?" There was so much to discuss, but...magic was real. And, unequivocally, it would never belong to her.

[Fabian Prewett]

Had many years had he practiced this in his head? The official time he would introduce her to magic, he had planned this. His words weren’t what he had wanted to say, but things had gotten so much worse over the years. If muggles had any idea how many of their events over the years were the responsibility of the Death Eaters they’d be terrified. That was how Voldemort wanted it, for them to be scared. The last time the muggles has been scared of magic, their world had gone into hiding. Keeping the secret of magic was for the safety of all witches and wizards.

He hadn’t expected this moment to be dashed by his patronus, and he let out a sigh at her words as he shook his head. Kyra wasn’t looking directly at him, but he wanted to believe that she was taking this news well. At least for now. He wanted to give her time before he said anything else, her silence eating him up. Thankfully, the grin she gave him eased his mind and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He sat down next to her, relaxing back into the cushions as he kept his eyes on her. He knew where this would go, that there had to be questions just tumbling over each other in her mind. But it was no surprise when her gaze moved to his wand, her hands reaching for it.

There was a part of him - a part that knew better - but a part that hoped maybe just something would happen. He could never truly give her his world, he couldn’t give her magic to wield. And as she picked it up and nothing happened, he looked down to the coffee table. His disappointment had to be nothing compared to hers, and he wanted to give her time. Fabian poured himself a glass, trying to focus on anything but Kyra so that she could be alone with her thoughts.

Her first question caught him off guard at first, he was sure she would want to know more. He looked at her silently, before reaching over to give her knee a squeeze. “Your first magic lesson - the wand chooses the wizard. Sycamore wood, with a dragon heartstring core. Must have tried four or five before this one agreed with me, I knew this was it because of how warm it felt in my hands,” he answered, as he gently took it back. He had been through a lot with this wand, and he could hardly imagine life without it. “When I’m in the field, it feels like it’s bursting with energy. Sycamore wood wands can grow bored if they are only used for mundane things, sometimes just bursting into flames in a witches or wizards hand. The best way I can describe it is...”

How could he make her understand what it felt like, to hold a wand and feel the magic? It was an unique experience. Twisting it in his fingers, he pointed it to the roof, ”Avis.” Tiny birds appeared in the air, fluttering above them happily. He shot her a grin, before placing the wand back on the table in front of her. “I know you have more questions than just that one.”

[Kyra Thatcher]

Don't be stupid, you knew nothing would happen. She could practically feel Fabian avoiding looking at her as he busied himself with the wine, and it was nearly worse than if he'd been watching the disappointment fall heavily on her heart. Having a few fleeting moments of hope before taking the wand in her hand was foolish, and while spinning the instrument carefully in her hands, Kyra was berating herself for it. Hope and expectations - it was better not to have them. It avoided this crushing after feeling...

Stupid, she thought angrily. How many years had she wasted pouring herself into research about the paranormal, supernatural, and magical - when answers were being held from her by him? Gid and Ed too, bet anything...the kids?! The thought cut, and she swallowed thickly, trying to focus on the wand she held. Hadn't she tried to protect herself from letting him have this sort of affect on her? Maybe you shouldn't've admitted how you feel... Kyra was grateful when she'd found words again, even if the question may've been low on the hierarchy of importance, in the grand scheme of things. Finding out more of the mechanics of this world was necessary, especially as her kind was in danger, and would help her detach from the loss she was feeling. But first...she wanted to hear something real from his heart.

Her eyes drifted up to Fabian's, and the fleeting look of surprise was some sort of acknowledgement she could hold on to. What were you expecting? Kyra listened carefully to his "lesson," a small smirk appearing despite her upset and swirling thoughts because dragons existed and hearing his honesty - and compassion - when speaking of his wand was...refreshing. He spoke of it as if it was an old friend, and when he'd slid it out of her grasp, Fabian just looked...different. More whole? More himself? Not that he'd been evidently lacking in anything before, but with this new lens - and hindsight being 20/20 - she wondered how she'd not noticed that he was always missing part of himself when he was around her. Suddenly, with a flick of the wand and a word of Latin, there were birds in her apartment?

"Did you just make something out of nothing?" she blurted, a basic scientific principle being dashed before her eyes shocking her, to say the least. That's magic, for you. She leaned back onto the cushions, looking up to the ceiling as the little songbirds flitted about as if they'd been there all along. At Fabian's next, her head lolled over so she could see him, and she sighed. "I don't think I'll ever run out of questions. I...I don't even know where to start." Trying to focus her thoughts, difficult with the lateness of the hour and the unfathomability of the personal and practical implications of this night, Kyra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. And another. "All right." With a sharp exhale, Kyra sat up and scooted closer to him, brushing back her hair before taking up his hand in hers as she forced herself to meet his eye. Just get it out. "I get that there's a lot more I need to know," she began quietly, goosebumps flourishing at the simple touch, "but...are you...are you asking me to make the choice Phoebe made? To be with you, for real this time - no more lies, no more secrets?"

[Fabian Prewett]

He would never understood what it meant to be a muggle, to live a life without magic. Over the years he had learned about muggles, enough so that he thought he had a decent grasp on how their lives worked. Edgar understood more - having one muggle parent and all that - but Fabian had done his best to immerse himself in their world so that he could relate to Kyra. He followed their politics, learned to drive a car (and eventually gotten a motorcycle), always had a stash of their money somewhere in case he needed to do something in their world. But at the end of the day he was still a wizard, capable of things so far behind their grasp with magic. He couldn’t possibly understand how much to hurt to learn of his world and yet be denied access to it.

It was why he fought, for a place in their world for everyone. It wasn’t just to make those who were muggleborn feel safer, but for those who should have a place in their society feel accepted. The closet thing to what Kyra was going through would have to be a Squib, a child in a magical family who was unable to do magic. For Squibs born into the more extreme pureblood families...their world was a messed up one in it’s own way, and in a similar way to the muggle one.

Her response to his magic was funny, and he tried to stop the laugh that escaped. He was going to have to tell Edgar that conjuring birds was far more impresive than small balls of light. And while he didn’t know where the rest of tonight’s conversation would lead them, he wanted the happiness of this to last for just a bit longer. It had been so many years, her memories so heavily altered at his own hand. She needed to know all the truth, and he would let her make that decision. But the look in her eyes, the words she was asking him was like a jab to his heart. You can’t ask her that without letting her know the truth.

He gave her hand a squeeze, before leaning forward to rest his lips against her forehead. He wanted her to make that decision, but that meant putting all his cards on the table. And how was she going to take the fact that he’d been changing her memories for years now, ever since Edgar had told Phoebe the truth. It wasn’t as if they had gotten Oblivators involved, he had known the burden had to be his. Sitting back he met her eyes, sighing, ”No more secrets,” he murmured quietly. ”This isn’t the first time you’ve been told about magic. The first was the day after Edgar told Phoebe the truth, the summer before they got married.”

[Kyra Thatcher]

The momentary sweetness from him was just that - fleeting. Fabs wasn't answering her question, proving that there was more she needed to know before it could be properly asked. But what he was letting on to...sent a chill through her. "Go on." There was a hardness to her voice, a steely edge, that very rarely colored her words, and a similar unusual sharpness in her eyes. Because, in life, what was truly worth getting upset over? The minor inconveniences that usually littered her days? No, she'd just drive herself crazy if she let the little things bother her. Misunderstandings with friends or family? Generally no, as they could resolve things fairly easily, once all was cleared up. But this sudden tangle of nerves, this feeling in her stomach as if she was on the edge of getting sick, the instinctive feeling that told her all was not well...the look of quiet resolve, desperation, and fear that Fabian was giving her? However it was that she had no recollection of being told about magic so many years ago - it was a story she needed to hear, but one he obviously didn't want to share. She needed to know, to understand more about this new facet of the world, and the parts that others so close to her were playing within it. But that didn't mean she wasn't afraid to find out the truth...

You've learned about this, but you don't remember. The thought sent her mind spiraling rapidly as she tried to make sense of it, a feeling greater than unease making her withdraw into herself. In an earlier year, at a time when proclamations of love hadn't been admitted, Kyra would've already been yelling questions at him. What do you mean, I've been told? How can't I remember? What happened to my memories? The questions were bubbling up within her, around her fear, and she felt a nervous tremor swiftly shake down her spine. 

A new thought struck her, hard, and more terrible than the others swirling about. She held up a hand to stop him from speaking, hating how her fingers trembled with a newly encroaching...panic. "You know," Kyra said, a breathiness betraying her heightened feeling edging up as she continued quickly. "You know that I learned about this before. How is it that you know, and I don't? Fabian - Fabian, what did you do?"

[Fabian Prewett]

He wasn’t a fool, he knew that tone in her voice. Not the first time you’ve heard it this situation. He could see the tells, the small signs that her mind was racing and trying to comprehend what he was saying. He had been here before, telling her that she couldn’t remember. It was always him on the other side of her anger when it came to magic and memories. He was the one to take her home after a night on town where they ran into the enemy, the one to change those memories into nothing more than a bar fight. The one that laughed a little too loud or a little too long when she joked about her hazy memories. Fabian knew where this would end up, and he could only hope that his willingness to let her in now would be enough.

But her words stung sharper than he would have thought, the unexpected question out of her mouth caught him off guard. She wasn’t yelling - yet - but he couldn’t mistake the panic in her voice. He couldn’t lie to her about it, but to fully admit that everything she couldn’t remember what his fault. He let out a sigh, taking her hand in his. Every time they had this fight it was his fault, This is the last time, but he knew they could get through this. He’d just told her not that long ago that this was something he was supposed to have kept a secret unless they were married.

”You have to understand that there are rules, and what I did was still breaking them. You’ve had your memories erased once - I wasn’t there when that happened. But the rest of them are just altered,” he managed out. He knew no amount of hand holding or desperate words would stop the reaction that was bound to happen now.

[Kyra Thatcher]

"Just altered?! What the absolute f*ck - what gives you the right to - to - " Kyra tore her hand from Fabian’s and gestured to her head as she stood, bumping into the coffee table in her haste to get away. She didn’t know what was worse - the fact that he was addressing her, so resigned, as if they’d had this out before; or that he was contradicting himself all over the place. The rule against telling someone like her about magic until they were married, that she could respect. Surely it was for the safety of the communities somehow, and that was something she could puzzle out more later. But he’d admitted to doing something to break the rules. What? This? Has this happened before? Her memories had been erased. Only once, she reminded herself with an internal roll of the eyes. But other memories had been...altered. At his hand, by the sound of it.

Kyra turned her back to him as her breaths started coming fast, in the moment just trying to not let her panic-laced heart and mind overtake her. Not wanting to break down in front of him, she tried to quiet her mind, to force herself to unpack this later. But her mind had always been something she could trust - or so she thought. To know that her thoughts, her memories - that they weren’t all hers? The academic in her wanted to know how it worked, how someone with magic could change or erase a memory, something people like her were still trying to understand. But she really wanted to understand…how someone with magic could change or erase a memory and live with the act. Her eyes closed as she pressed her quaking palms to her thighs, hard, back bent as she attempted to calm her body.

Don’t let it win - come on, Kiki. While she tried to slow herself down, focus on counting intervals, her mind was too full for it to be of much effect on her shallow, rapid breaths. Because while this news from Fabian was staggering, there were so many layers to it; if this was something that Fabian knew, then it was something that Gideon and Edgar knew. If it was something that Edgar knew, then Phoebe knew; they were married, and with the blokes so close, and having gone to their boarding school, pursuing the same work, they all had to be wizards. But if it was something that Phoebe and Edgar knew, then the kids, his siblings, his parents, Phoebe’s family…How much of what was in her head wasn’t what she’d lived?

How could they all lie?

There was the legal aspect, which she was sure Phoebe vetted extensively before agreeing to; but to keep her around, and to keep magic a secret - beyond that, to keep this altering of memory thing happening…

They love you. He loves you.

    That’s no excuse.

She straightened back up and faced him, not wanting to believe that he and the others had betrayed her. But if what he was saying now was true...why would he lie about something as incriminating as that? "I never would’ve thought you were this selfish. Any of you," she spat with difficulty, wanting out of her trembling body so that she could focus fully on the matter at hand. "Get out."

[Fabian Prewett]

Here we go.

There was the anger he had been waiting for, and he didn’t move as she ripped her hand from his and got up. She was panicking and there was nothing he could do to help her. He had tried so many different ways of breaking the news, he felt like a broken record. My name is Fabian Prewett and I’ve been altering your memories for six years now. Maybe that should have gone over better than this. He couldn’t do anything in this moment. Going to her would just result in more anger, she didn’t want him to touch her right now. All he could do was pick up his wand and prepare himself for whatever she was going to say to him.

The silence was always the the hardest part. The quiet moments while her brain processed what she was being told, figured out just had deep everything ran. It was never just about what he did, but what they all did. Lie after lie, year after year. This moment here, where she got angry at him and they fought had happened at least twice a year since Edgar had told Phoebe. And Phoebe - she had exhausted them endlessly pouring through the laws of their world.

She’s his godmother - she has to know. What if something were to happen to us?
    Then she would find out when Grayson turned 11 and went to school.

He knew it was fucked, there was no denying that. But the rules were there to protect everyone. Magic hadn’t always been a secret, otherwise there wouldn’t be any sort of muggle knowledge. A long time ago there had been harmony, but those days were gone. Muggles couldn’t get along with each other, let alone grasp an entire magical world. And then the Death Eaters, purebloods so obsessed with keeping muggles from the magical world. Killing muggles like it was a damn game. But it wasn’t like America, where they hadn’t even been allowed to marry muggles in the 1920s. Things were changing but change was slow and he did what he had to. He hated himself daily for what he’d put Kyra through by keeping her in the dark but it was her safety that was more important.

Kyra finally turned back to him and he stood more attentively, ready to combat whatever she had to say. The words stung like she was throwing daggers in his heart - selfish - and he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from instantly coming to the defense of Edgar and Phoebe. Because for all the fights he had with Kyra, Edgar and Phoebe were having the same fights. Both him and his best friend had been on the receiving end of viscous words from Phoebe about keeping secrets and selfish choices more than once.

But he had hoped that maybe this time would be different. Maybe admitting that she was his weakness and he was scared would be enough to make her realize why he had done what he did. Doesn’t matter how much you love her, it’s not your place to make decisions for her. The words were a constant reminder from the fiery brunette that had become like a sister to him over the year as.

Words would do him no good, but he had to try, “Altered memories can be restored, but erased memories aren’t as simple to get back. Kyra, please let me at least give you back what I’ve taken from you.”

[Kyra Thatcher]

Fabian stood at military-esque attention as she rounded on him, apparently having nothing to say to defend his actions, only a plea. It was something she couldn't deny, not after finding out that memories had gone MIA. Kyra nodded after a moment's consideration, swallowing through her suddenly thick-feeling throat, and found her racing heart settling a tad. Her memories could be restored. That much he could return to her. But to give back everything he'd taken from her? Impossible. He took her first love. He took her virginity. He took years away from her finding a quality partner. He'd taken so many nights, so many days, that had led them to this dead end...

"After this,

You've been in my head, messing things up, without my consent," Kyra said as firmly as she could manage. While she had no memory of telling him no about this before, if this had happened, Kyra knew she wouldn't have ever gone down without a fight. She had many more confrontations ahead of her in the next few days, that much was sure. Because they all knew. They had to. And they'd allowed it. Should've cut me out as soon as you decided to stay with him, Phoebe, the woman thought bitterly. If this was what had to happen to keep me around. While she would've hated missing out on knowing the Bones' as a married couple, of being around for every step of each pregnancy, of growing to love their children - if the deal was that she had to be in the dark about who they really were, how could any of them have thought she would take it, if ever given the choice? Kyra cleared her throat, shifting her weight uncomfortably as she held his gaze. "We'll just need to work past whatever we feel for each other alone, because if this is how you've been treating me...Whatever's been real between us doesn't excuse you violating my trust like this. And I think you know it." She let the coldness sit between them before continuing to...more practical concerns. "How does this work?"

[Fabian Prewett]

Do you know how much I love you?
        Do you know how much Phoebe loves you?
None of this was ever meant to hurt you.

He already felt awful about the damage that had been done, there was no way to tell how much her memory would be permanently affected by all of this. At first it had just been a little tweak here and there, changing small details in events that had happened. And then it had been bigger events, a little harder to clean up the details from. Full scale attacks when they went out partying by Death Eaters - that had been a lot for him to do that night. It was one of the worst fights they had ever had, and yet that night it had never felt more essential to alter her memories. Kyra had no concept of the very real danger outside of her front door.

Every word was like a knife to his heart, and tears burned his eyes as she spat them at him with such venom. He had seen so many emotions go through her blue eyes over the years, he could read her like a book. She was hurt and angry, she had every right to be. But he very distinctly remembered another look in her eyes, when a flash of green lot had shot by them and killed a muggle while they were protesting. It could have been her that day, lying on the ground while people screamed and took off in every direction. And if there was one thing that was worse, it was seeing the woman he loved afraid of the very thing that he was.

He cleared his throat, eyes turning to the ground as she finished what she had to say. She wanted him to leave, he wanted to stay and fight. He always stayed, he always fought for her to realize what he had done was wrong yes but it was for her safety that he had done these things.

Is it really about her being safe, or is it about you being afraid of your own f*cking feelings?

“Okay,” he whispered quietly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Okay, I will leave and I won’t come back. Just...really let yourself go through your memories before you call Pheebs? There’s so much about this, about what I’ve done to you, that she doesn’t even know.” He slowly closed the few steps between them, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead as he raised his wand to her head. The quiet murmured words had silver wisps coming from his wand, disappearing into her head just as quickly as they appeared. “You know where to find me if you need to.”

[Kyra Thatcher]

Finally, the man was looking ashamed. Confronted with what he'd done, Fabian had the grace to look as if he was accepting their end. Because what did he think could happen here? It was one thing to tell her about keeping a magical world from her consciousness. It was another entirely to know that he'd invaded her mind, taken memories and altered situations to fit a non-magical mold. That wasn't something that Kyra could forgive. If he lets you remember this at all, that is. The fear of that as he approached her with his wand was almost enough for her to cry out for him to stop. To just leave her as she was, false memories and all.

But as she looked up at him to find tears in his eyes - A first. That you know of. - Kyra felt...that for all the wrongs he'd done, he knew not to commit another one tonight. Surely something had to be different about tonight. Surely he hadn't told her all of this before, confessed his love, confessed his wrongs, all in one. Because if he'd heard this tirade from her before, surely he would have been prepared for it, and not let her see how she was affecting him.

Trusting him one more time?

    Didn't know it was such a shady venture. 

Kyra nodded uncertainly at his words, more questions piling up inside at them. Because even Phoebe didn't know the extent of what he'd done? Why have you done this for so long? Wouldn't it have been easier to just ignore me? Leave me be? Her eyes fluttered closed as Fabian came to her, lips soft on her forehead, and she felt close to losing whatever scraps of composure she was holding on to. It was better to be angry with him, furious, final - than to show the hurt he'd caused her. She felt her hair move as if a light wind was passing by, and she squeezed her eyes tightly. How do I even find the right memories? I don't know what I'm looking for. She couldn't admit that moment of desperation to him, not then...If not now, it's a "not ever."

As unbelievably upset as she was with him, hearing Fabian's final words to her made her heart ache yet. Stupid. "It's time for you to go," she said flatly, avoiding his eye as she retreated to the couch to try and search her mind for anything out of the ordinary. And as far as unexpected things went for that night, high on the list was that he...listened. He left without another word, no protest, nothing. Leaving her with songbirds finding roosts for the night in her apartment, leaving her with too much to think through. As the door closed behind him, Kyra let out a gasp of a sob that she'd been holding...and knew that the night, really, was just beginning.