Time is the Longest Distance (Open)

The man was thrown back, but by what? Air? He couldn't stop himself from falling, and there wasn't anything that could have pushed him back. And his buddy, on the floor. What the hell was going on? Was this all an illusion of sorts? Magic tricks? Damn...this was becoming a pain.

"You little shit...stop with those goddamn magic tricks and face me!"

The man's back collided with a wall on the other side of the Inn, a loud noise echoing throughout the room as his weight dented the wall, and nearly broke through it. He had his gun in hand, and he was quickly reloading it, always keeping it pointed at Clovis if he were to try anything. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to have won, he was unarmed! Should be unarmed.

"Be an effing man and face me like one!"

The voices could be heard all around, just as the clashes and clangs were, too. On the floor, Lacetta didn't move very much. She could hear the ruckus, though she couldn't really understand what was going on. She hadn't been trying to, either.

All that Lacetta could see was a woman, beyond her reach only by a hair, empty of the lively soul that she once had. She had been kind, and thoughtful, and she deserved anything but this. Anything but being forced to leave.

She was forced to lose her soul and her being, and to be forced out of this world. Mrs. Parcell bled out on the floor next to Lacetta, leaving everything behind.

Onto the bloody floor, a few tears dropped after having left their mark on Lacetta's face. She couldn't help by cry a few tears for her friend, who lost something that no one had the right to take away from her. But they had anyway, and she couldn't bare the thought.

The noises in the background didn't seem to reach Lacetta anymore. Only her cold thoughts.

For quite a short while, Lacetta had laid on the cold floor, stunned by everything that had happened, and everything that she saw. From everything that she had seen, in her past, had come back to her as well, and it froze her, too.

It was only when a familiar voice called her name that she could feel her daze shatter. Turning her head away from Mrs. Parcell, Lacetta had come to see the face of Clovis, though for some reason it hadn't seemed right.

Lacetta questioned it no further, as everything of that hour came back to her. Everything had seemed rather fast in her mind, and she couldn't place it all in order. She slowly sat up, back against the wall.

Her voice was shaky as she spoke, and not too much above a whisper, "I'm fine...I'll just...go home."

She choked as more tears came to her eyes. Her home was given to her by Mrs. Parcell, and now Mrs. Parcell was dead. She would be forever gone from Lacetta's life. And she'd need a new home now, too, and she couldn't handle everything that hit her in that moment. Pulling her legs in close, Lacetta hid her face in her blood jeans and softly cried.

She was so unsure of herself, and so unsure of everything around her. Lacetta could feel herself sinking in her own mind, lost in all of the confusion of where her life had gone, and where it was taking her. It felt to her as though there was so little left to hold on to.

Cold fingers had touched her wrist and jostled Lacetta from her thoughts, looking up quickly, but blankly at whoever had awoken her. On her face had smeared tears and blood, and as she looked on, she didn't believe what she was seeing.

"...Dein?"

Only moments ago, Clovis had been where Dein now sat. Was this a trick or some sort of game, she hadn't known. She questioned her own eyes, for perhaps the fault was theirs.

Even so, Lacetta's eyes seemed to come back to life. There was somebody she knew, sitting right in front of her. Somebody that knew her name, and knew her person. It had been so long since she knew anybody.

(I had forgotten to mention, your signature is just lovely!)

Having been swooped up before Lacetta could have answered, Dein had taken her out the door and had already been off and down the street. It seemed to be happening so fast, and she was still lost on all that had happened.

She had felt quite bad, though, for it had been her arm that was hurt, and she wasn't even sure if Dein had been hurt throughout the situation. Unless he hadn't been there until the end, though that would have been quite odd.

"...I can walk..."

The sound of her voice was only just above a whisper, her vocals not seeming to be willing enough to allow her to speak as she normally would.

"Just down here, I rent from Mrs. Parcell the little house down there."

Lacetta had pointed in the direction of the house, and her hand was quivering as she thought about her wording. Rented, was more so accurate, for there was no possible way for her to stay here, or for her to rent from someone who just...

She couldn't think about it, and she couldn't even think of the word. It was too saddening, to have lost a friend like that. And so quickly, too.

(It's quite alright, though I'm afraid I've just done what you had tried not to. I'm terribly sorry, for some reason my laptop just wouldn't let me post!)

Landing softly on her feet as Dein had placed her on the ground, Lacetta had a hard time finding her balance for a moment, feeling rather off center as she stumbled forward a bit. Though it didn't take long before she found herself, fixing her footing so that she could walk nearly normally.

Dein's words had hardly reached Lacetta as she pondered forwards, looking out into the wooded area where her house, Mrs. Parcell's how, really, would be. It was quiet now, and there hadn't been any sirens of any sort going off, which Lacetta had found odd, but once more didn't question it.

Opposed to answering Dein, Lacetta has asked a question of her own while looking at her arm and blood clothing.

"May I ask...why are you here?"

She had nearly forgotten about the Daily Prophet, and all of the harsh words that is had said toward herself and Dein. Certain, she had been, that Dein wouldn't want to speak with her again, not after a thing like that. What if he were to believe it?

Distracting herself from her thoughts, Lacetta tried to look at the back of her left arm, her dominant hand, and saw no exit wound. Only an entrance, meaning that she'd have to find a way to take out the bullet. If only it would have just gone all the way through, though more painful and cause more damage, it would have been easier.

Having nodded her head in response to Dein, Lacetta really hadn't heard the words that he had said. She was lost, trapped in her own mind as she often found herself several years ago, and once more it was happening.

She was not one to realize this, and had instead continued on, placing most words and actions inside her head and often thinking them real. In a way Lacetta was living in two worlds at the moment, only she didn't know nor understand that the one didn't exist.

As she made her way down the beaten path, staring at her bloody clothes and feet, she would only ever glance up slightly. She hadn't looked Dein in the eyes since he had first appeared, and only caught glimpses of his hands in his pocket. An odd habit, she had thought, but made no outward comment towards it. Instead, she found herself thankfully upon her rented 'home', where she had left the door slightly cracked.

"This...we're here."

She spoke not as quietly this time around, though quiet all the same as Lacetta bit her lip, as though she were nervous to have been home. Letting herself in, she left the door open for Dein to follow her into her rather plain and temporary home. Possibly now more temporary than she had thought before.

As Dein had entered the kitchen, Lacetta had as well. She sat down at the small table, and stared at the old wooden table, tracing parts of it where the wood had chipped and where pieces had been sticking up. It would have been easy to get a splinter on this table, though she had never noticed it before until, as she touched the sharp chips of wood.

Dein had posed a question, and Lacetta hadn't looked up until he began to rummage through all of the cabinets. What would she need?

She looked back down at her arm. Never before had she dealt with anything of this sort, a bullet wound was not a common occurrence in the wizarding world. And the bullet had been in her arm. What was there to do?

"Disinfectant and healing ointment...that would be in the bathroom upstairs, I do believe. Though..."

She couldn't think of anyway to get the bullet out of her arm, other than some odd form of tweezers, and she was certain that would hurt. Would it cause her any harm to leave it there? She thought not, perhaps she could let it be as it was, and it would turn out fine...

Before, Lacetta wouldn't have let something simply go, but rather be sure to take the time to figure out the best way how. It had been herself, of course, but even then, she wouldn't have been nearly so willing to give up on the matter in only seconds.

"...I'll go and get it."

Slowly standing, Lacetta pushed out the kitchen chair and began to walk toward the stairs, still in a bit of a daze as she has been.

Up the stairs, Lacetta had made it to the top, looking first to her right, where her simple bed rested in the corner with the night stand next to it, and then to the left, where the door to the bathroom was only a few feet away.

She made her way into the bathroom, turning to face the wall with the cabinet on it. Opening it up, she pulled out a few bottles, turning them in her hands, reading the labels that she had on them with her handwritting.

Dein's voice had reached hers in the bathroom, and she looked up from the bottle that was now in her hands, knowing that he had asked her how she was feeling. Though her mind was a little to clouded to know as she looked down at her arm, moving it out slightly. Now that she was focused on it, looking at it, she could feel the electric pain as she moved it.

"It'll feel better soon…"

Now, making her way out of the bathroom, Lacetta sat down on the edge of her bed, ointments in hand and staring at them, thinking of what to do.

The bed had sunk in as another body had appeared next to hers. Lacetta could feel the heat of Dein's body, but she didn't lift her face for a few seconds. It was when he had begun to inspect her wounds that she looked up, seeing his dark hair and pale features so close to her body, and his warm skin on her arm.

She stared, blankly for a few moments as thoughts swirled in her head. He shouldn't have been here, he had only just graduated from Hogwarts, and she hadn't wanted for him to gain a reputation, not after what the Daily Prophet had posted...it still felt so fresh to her. Lacetta barely answered Dein's question.

"Yes...but...I don't believe you should be here. The Daily Prophet has been rather harsh, and I don't-"

Lacetta had to take a breath, for her speech had been picking up faster and faster. As Lacetta was going to finish speaking, she looked away from Dein, now staring out the window.

"I don't think it would be best, for you, quite the opposite, really."

Her worry was for Dein, and for his reputation. He'd still need to find a job, and a place to live, and so many other things that she thought if he were to be seen even near her, she'd have ruined, all due to that silly article. It was as though Lacetta was starting to believe what the Prophet had written.

Now, as she face the window, Lacetta looked down at her hands, nervously fiddling with her fingers and thumbs.

Turning back to look at Dein, Lacetta's eyes were wide open. He had been quick, and harsh, and soon after Lacetta's eyes had become soft. Had he really not cared? It seemed so strange for him to have acted this way, for what of the news could have only hurt him. She saw no light in the article, and yet he hadn't cared about inked words on paper.

She nodded her head as Dein had become more and more serious, his grip tightening on her arm. She wasn't sure why it had tightened, other than that he was still in shock from being at the Inn, from wherever he was, during that situation.

If it weren't for the voice belonging to Dein, Lacetta would have been frightened. His voice was so firm, and held a tone of authority, Lacetta felt that she had to reply and listen.

"Yes, a bullet. It's like metal, or silver, I'm quite so sure. Though, I don't know how to get it out. I'm sure it's fine to leave."

She could feel his arm move down hers, now gentle, and she watched as it fell, her gaze straying away from Dein's eyes, though her focus had always been on him. Even then, when she should have felt pain in her arm, and surely she did, her brain told her that it wasn't there.

Was it really all that bad? Lacetta hadn't known much when it came to a subject such as this, this was a muggle sort of medical situation. She wasn't trained for anything of this sort, for muggle weapons and wizarding magic were quite the two very different situations.

If Lacetta had any tools, she wouldn't have known where to find them. Nor did she really know what sort of tool he was looking for. Perhaps he thought that he could get the bullet out of her arm? Oh, surely not, Lacetta couldn't let that be.

"I'm rather unsure, but it's fine as it is, I'm positive! There's no need for you to help, I'd very much like to believe that it'll be okay."

And it had been what she had liked to believe, even though it was hard to believe it. It would most certainly cause discomfort, at the very least, if it had stayed in her arm after healing over.

Though not often did Lacetta have to deal with pain, as she was the nurse, not the patient, and she was too scared to have it taken out. If she had known where any sort of tools were, Lacetta wasn't so sure that she would have told Dein.

She was realizing that she was a bit scared, as she was coming to her sense more so now than before due to the fear, and the pain of her arm had slowly been creeping up on her. Seeing her clothes now, she could see the blood that seemed to escape her mind before, and her hands began to quiver every so slightly. Slowly, but surely, she had been returning to herself.

Although she could feel his eyes, looking at hers, Lacetta couldn't help but close her eyes as tightly as she could. She did her best to convince herself that the blood wasn't there, that it wasn't blood but dye, that it wasn't the blood of a friend but spilled juice. She had done what she could, though it hardly stopped her quivering.

As Dein spoke to her only the kindest words that she had heard in such a long time, she nodded her head. When he next asked a question, Lacetta had opened her eyes, though looked at the ceiling with a deep breath before looking back at Dein.

"It's...it's quite alright. There may be something-in the kitchen. I'm not quite sure..."

She had broken off and tried to tell herself of other things. In the kitchen, was there anything to use? The first thing that she thought of was cooking tongs, which wouldn't do. Surely, there were tweezers in the bathroom, though she didn't think they'd be big enough. Unless they used magic, which she only just thought of now.

"Tweezers?"

Still shaking, Lacetta stumbled over her words as she spoke, the pain starting to become more and more noticeable and she couldn't help but close her eyes again.

She could catch flashes of what had occurred at the inn, the loud noises and the pain of the bullet which pushed her to the ground, Mrs. Parcell's pale face on the floor next to hers and the blood all around them. All of it was horrifying.