Eckeltricity (x)

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Fabian takes some time to listen for the words. He finds a few.

A/N: 

Playlist:
1. "Stand By Me" by Ben E. King

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Part III: "Eckeltricity" (x)

Fabian

May 27, 1967

Olive was packing up, and the library was beginning to clear for the match later.

Fabian darted over from his spot beside Gideon. "Olive."

"I'll meet you at the pitch." Olive's voice was soft and pointed towards Dearborn.

Reggie faltered and glanced between them. "Yeah, okay." Then, he headed for the exit.

She paused, staring straight ahead at the shelves. "I think we should run the longer warmups before the match."

Gideon brushed past him, fixing him with a guarded look.

Gid didn't care for the tenuous conditions between Smith and Fabian. They weren't flying as well in practices. Butting heads. Olive always offered her own suggestions for plays and strategies, picking at everything he said, practically. But since their fight, she'd been quieter.

They'd been working over his apology behind a Charms book all morning, as Gid helped him tune and revise it like a song. It still didn't seem good enough.

Fabian felt like a heel.

Words. He needed words. Please. Please.

He tried to listen for them, like he might the notes of one of his fiddle's songs.

"I'm a heel," he said.

Olive looked down.

"No—no, I'm an inkwell," Fabian said hoarsely.

Bloody Hell.

"Always thought I'd be the bloke jumping in front of the curse, but—" He coughed into his elbow. "But I'm—"

"An inkwell?" Olive asked quietly, turning to him.

Fabian blinked. "Yeah. That's—that's what killed my parents."

Olive's mouth opened, and a stunned, frightened look came over her.

"No," Fabian said. "I'm not—I'm not telling you that to make you feel bad. I just thought I'd always be like my dad was, jumping in front of inkwells, only—" He cleared his throat to force back the lump. "Maybe something's gone a bit off on my insides, and I'm turning into the inkwell myself."

"You're not an inkwell, Fabian," Olive whispered.

Fabian's brow scrunched and he nodded. "But I am, though. Or at least, I've been acting like one. I have trouble talking, and then I get upset and confused and it's rubbish. I'm trying to work on it, now." He blinked hard. "There's no ruddy point in trying to protect anyone if you just turn around and hurt 'em after it."

Olive frowned at her hands.

"I shouldn't have been a prat, or—or snapped at you like that, and I shouldn't have reacted so bothered when you told me not to start rows on your behalf. I'm sorry."

"Why do you want to fight people like that, Fabian?" she asked.

Fabian hesitated, glancing at the doors. Gideon was pretending not to hear the conversation. Git.

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