Broken Pieces

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty was not idle when Ava's owl scratched at his window, yet upon seeing the bird he resolved immediately to postpone his engagements for whatever might be contained in her letter. Truth be told - though in this circumstance he was not disposed to tell the truth - the Potions Professor would have dropped his plans in order to gratify her silliest whim; so when he opened the envelope and found therein a request that he come immediately, for something had happened, he wasted no time contemplating what 'something' was and left to see her right away.

A short moment later Monty arrived in New Zealand. His step along Ava's street was quick, but not as quick as he would have liked. Whilst he did not anticipate news so dreadful as that which he was about to receive, he presumed by the vague abruptness of her correspondence that she was distressed, and thus he could not have reached her fast enough had he been able to apparate directly from his doorstep to hers. Would Zannon be home? Monty wasn't even sure if the two of them were living together, and he hadn't been inclined to ask. The answer might have pained him a little more than it duly ought. Finally reaching her front door, Monty raised a fist and knocked.

 

[Ava King]

Tears had stopped flowing and Ava sat, blank faced, clutching her mug of now-cold tea. She still couldn't comprehend it. She supposed the next few days would be the worst. It wasn't enough that the world took her husband from her, but now her child as well. Ava had spoken to Cyndi. She scribbled a note to Monty as well. Braxton was looking after her baby while Zannon was who-knows-where. But the pregnant lady did not want to be alone, and Monty deserved to know from her.
It wasn't too much longer that Ava was brought out of her mindless sitting and staring. She automatically rose to her feet and headed towards the door that knocked, her mug still in her hands. Opening the door, Ava saw Monty's face and broke down again, she moved towards him and rested her head on his chest and she just stood there, crying.

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Ava's expression struck upon Monty so forcefully that his body braced on its impact, and at once he knew that the happening alluded to in her letter was something terribly, terribly grave. The sight of him either relieved or saddened her, for suddenly she was leaning into his chest, dampening his shirt with tears. By unprecedented impulse he enveloped her gently in his arms, concern and anxiety tripling his pulse. Ava was, subjectively, the strongest woman he knew; in three years not once had he seen her emotionally distressed. So what could possibly have happened? The Professor closed his eyes, closed his mind, but could not close his heart. Even had he been able, it would have been for little: Ava was already inside it.

Time passed with its usual cruel indifference. After a moment Monty said quietly, "It's OK. I'm here. You tell me whenever you're ready. I'll stay for as long as you need me."

 

[Ava King]

Ava thought her eyes had already dried out, but apparently not. She should have learned that with the death of Nicolas, bodies held more tears than she knew was possible. At Monty's voice, Ava clicked that he had no idea what had happened. She tried to sniffle to a stop, but how could she stop? How would she be able to do anything again? Her heart had been shredded to pieces once again. Did death have a target on her back? Did she do something for him to need to claim his revenge? Ava had no idea, but she shakily took a step back, taking in a deep breath. "It's, Riley - she's, someone has - she's, she's gone." Ava managed to get out, before slumping into a heap, her arms around her knees, dropping her mug to the floor.

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Feeling Ava retreat, Monty released her, his body briefly disorientated by the absence of her warmth. He read the pain in her face like a book - a book whose chapters and pages he often wished he could rewrite, so that he could, if not completely extract them, arrange them in such a way that it was upon himself their narrative was inflicted. His heart seemed to expand and contract simultaneously, so that the entire breadth of his chest bent under the weight of her pain. Riley was gone. It did not take a genius to surmise that she had been killed. Ava crumpled, and Monty moved forward by reflex, stepping into the hall he had only occupied before on light and cheerful matters. He lowered himself at her side, clearing the fallen mug with a motion of his wrist and then wrapping his arms once more around her. Not again. Hadn't she hurt enough? If everything happened for a reason, then Monty was damned interested to hear what this reason was. He couldn't take away her pain, he knew; but even in useless silence he could bury a fraction of her loneliness. So he held her tight, tight as he dared. And if it wasn't tight enough to fix her broken pieces, perhaps he could hold them together a while.

"Ava," he said eventually, tears of empathy that he had until now fought back spilling quietly down his cheeks. He didn't want to cry. He didn't want Ava to think him weak, that she could not depend on him. But he couldn't help it. "I am so sorry. I will do anything - anything." And he knew that Cyndi would, too. And Braxton. And... well, he didn't know very much about Zannon. "Is there anybody else at home? Tell me what I can do. If it's sitting here, that's OK. That's OK. I've got you."

 

[Ava King]

Ava was incredibly appreciative of the company and comfort, but her mind couldn't be anywhere else, and she couldn't say anything else. One day, she'd thank Monty, but she couldn't even bare to think of what the next day was going to be like, never mind 'one day'. She shook her head when Monty asked if anyone else was at home. "Brax - Brax has got the babies." Ava started. "And Zannon, is, well, I'm not sure. He doesn't know yet, but he never much liked Riley anyway." She said with a bitter laugh before crying again. As much as she loved Zannon, she didn't know how anyone couldn't love Riley. Ava leaned into Monty as he spoke, "Just, just stay here please, don't go." At least until Zannon got home.

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty continued to hold Ava as she spoke, growing perplexed. How could anybody not like Riley? Monty hadn't even met her, yet in Ava's fondness for her had grown fond himself. The Headmistress had spoken so highly, so proudly of her daughter that it had been difficult for him to help considering Riley in the same way. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps he had heard only the good - heard her cast only in a favourable, motherly light. No. He refused to believe that was true. And even if Ava had omitted her daughter's flaws in her descriptions, Monty hardly supposed they would amount to anything worth disliking.

But what did it matter? Riley was gone. Monty only wished that Ava had a more supportive partner, so that he would not worry so horribly for her when he had to leave. Then again, he would have worried horribly regardless. "I won't go," he murmured. He had nothing else to offer but this promise. "I won't go."