Work Text:
The news came through a phone call. A meek man was on the other end, seemingly not caring about the bombshell he dropped on Aura Blackquill.
Her brother was dead.
Her brother was fucking dead.
The thought barely registered in her brain, he had more time, she could’ve sworn.
“Ma’am? Are you alright?” She could hear the voice on the line say. Numbly, she brought the phone down and hung up.
Simon Blackquill was dead, hung the day before. Not a warning to anyone, not one more chance to say goodbye.
The phone was tossed limply to the side as Aura collapsed to the floor, both hands over her mouth, but not a sound came out. This was all a bad dream, tomorrow she would wake up, go see Simon, he wouldn’t shut her out and they would discuss a retrial.
He couldn’t be dead. Not before he was declared innocent, not before he came home and they had a happy family again.
She finally choked out a sob as the shock wore off. Her brother was never coming back, she would never get to see his little smile again or listen to another one of his rants about the U.K. A tear ran down her face as she looked up at her desk.
A framed photo of her, Simon, and Metis, sat on the side next to a few spare parts. Two people in the photo were dead, and Aura may as well be too, with the two most important people in her life only remembered by photos.
Metis had always pestered Aura about the image, insisting that the photo didn’t show her good side, which caused Aura to hype her up to no end. Looking back, she didn’t realize why Simon decided to take a photo with them, especially since the two were taking two month anniversary photos.
Doesn’t matter now, she thought. This was one of the only things to remember the two by.
She looked over to the corner of the room through the haze of tears. A few items of Metis’ still stood over there. A bottle of fruity liquor she always enjoyed, a small hairpin, and a photo. A photo of Athena.
Aura felt rage boil inside of her. If it hadn’t been for her, Simon never would’ve been arrested. That was his fatal flaw, he would’ve done anything for his little sister, including going to jail. But he didn’t have to, and he gave his life for it.
Aura, still crying, clambered up and walked over to Metis’ things and grabbed the photo. Athena was front and center, with her headphones around her neck and a smile on her face. How could she feel happiness, when just a few months later her selfishness would send Simon to jail? Impulsively, Aura seized the bottle, and took one last look at the photo before dropping it to the ground. The bottle opened without fight, and she downed a good bit of it before gasping for breath. The alcohol tasted like Metis’ lips, which caused her to cry even harder. She dropped the bottle, and heard the shattering of two chunks of glass, most likely the photo and the bottle.
The final nail in the coffin was one more item she saw in the pile, that she had to sort through the glass for. It was a paper, about psychology, signed by Simon.
She fell to her knees, into the liquid and glass, and sobbed uncontrollably into her hands.
Her family was gone, replaced by graves and a shattered woman.