milliways_bar | (no subject)

I think this is the lesson I was supposed to learn. I think I was supposed to know where my memories of Susanne came from, and why. I think that was what was keeping me here. And I think I hope this is not just wishful thinking.

All the times he's opened that door, he's seen nothing but a void, a swirling mass of darkness and destruction and he's not been anywhere near desperate enough to try to walk out into that. It would be a leap of faith far beyond his bounds, far beyond anything he could think of doing or actually bringing himself to do.

But this night... it feels... different, somehow.

And so he decides to try the door, see if the Bar will let him leave now that he's relived his nightmare with Tom's assistance. Bill takes a deep breath.

Ready, Bill? Ready.

The doorknob feels somehow cold, and he's not sure if it's reality or his own expectations making it that way.

Confidence, Bill. Why wouldn't it let you leave now?

That's more like it. He shakes back his long hair, touches the dragon fang earring for luck, and opens the door... and it's different.

No swirling void.

Bill looks through, then steps back into the bar, his face pale. This was not what he expected. Come to think on it, he's not sure where he expected to see: Cairo? The Burrow? Gringotts? London? But certainly not this.

Not the dungeon room from which he escaped.

He closes the door quickly. He is not going back to captivity. He'd rather be stuck here for all time.

Walking quickly to the bar, he orders a cup of tea. 3 sugars, fresh cream.

That, Bill, is the universe's way of saying Fuck You! loud and clear. He grins, and the grin widens into a smile, and he laughs. He doesn't care who hears.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

*he grins*

The dragon thing? Tempting, though.

"Isn't it."

Bill laughs.

Toasted Voldemort. Doubt anyone would be enticed by that.

Is it so bad, being stuck here?

He shrugs. "Charlie, we're cut from the same cloth, you and I. Being stuck anywhere is no good. We're used to going where we want, when we want. For fuck's sake, you had free run of the Transylvanian Alps, and now you've got wherever the hell the reserve is in Wales. I had all Egypt. They're playgrounds. This is a playground too, but on a much smaller scale. Much smaller, and smaller is limiting. I want the world back again. I want my world back again."

For a moment he tenses as if he might scream. But he doesn't; proper Englishmen (or even improper ones) don't behave that way, and that thought makes him laugh instead. "It's not the worst place to be stuck. I'd just rather not be stuck at all. And I'm not any more; I only have to figure out how to get the door to open on something different. It will."

*he lets out a long breath*

I know. Damn right, it will. And then you can come and see the reserve and I'll bore you shitless with dragon-talk, right?

"Right." He nods decisively.

"And damn soon, too."

Maybe if he says it enough, it will happen.

*he scowls*

Speaking of soon. Work starts in an hour. You want anything from home, next time? Offer of Flopsy bunny still stands.

There is something Charlie can do for him at home.

"On the mantel at the Burrow, there's a picture Mum has of me and Fleur. Burn it for me."

And that is something we'll be talking about.

I'll see you, Bill.

"Thanks, Charlie."

Thanks.

His brother leaves; Bill folds his arms and rests his head on them.

Fucking door. What a joke.