MollyWobbles

Eckeltricity (xiv)

He wouldn't look at her.

A/N: 

Playlist:
1. "As the World Caves In" by Sarah Cothran

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Part III: "Eckeltricity" (xiv)

Molly

September 10, 1967

Bilius blamed himself. William's widow—widow—a word that made Molly's insides writhe with protest—had taken the news awfully.

At first, Carolyn had laughed and shaken her head.

Then she'd gotten angry. Pale and shaken. Asked them to leave.

Begged them to. Screamed it. To just get out, all of them.

No one was invited to William's funeral, so they hosted their own service by Uncle Ignatius's house.

Shortly after, Grandfather succumbed to his ongoing case of Dragon Pox.

The number of Prewetts in the world had taken a sharp, swift dip.

Bilius blamed himself. But Uncle Marvin and Auntie Muriel blamed Molly.

And she couldn't disagree.

She'd enabled—no, encouraged William to be there.

Marvin was right. She was head of the clock. Though her cousins weren't on it, it was her duty as carrier of the family's enchantment to protect them. William's death was entirely on her shoulders.

"You were irresponsible," Muriel had cried in heaving sobs. "Reckless. And now your cousin is dead."

Underneath the anger, there had been a note of betrayal. The same note in Carolyn's voice. In Bilius's screams, when he—

Molly shoved it down.

Every time she thought of it, the ticking struck so hard in her ears that she couldn't breathe.

Where had she been when he needed her? Lost in a crowd, crying like she was a child because her chest hurt.

The overwhelming sense of wrongness had surged into her without warning, and she'd been hysterical—certain that Gideon or Fabian might be at death's door.

And when Arthur had—

Molly shut that thought down, too. If she couldn't keep the Prewetts safe, then how could she expect to do the same for him, when it came to it?

This was for the best.

There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he'd only been dragged into the whole thing because of them. He'd been trying to find them, when he was dragged off like that.

Arty wasn't built for the Prewett way of life, and she wouldn't see him risked.

Nor would she risk her responsibilities and focus by splitting her attention like that again. Molly couldn't think with Arthur there. Seeing him in a battle zone made every part of her recoil; it was so fundamentally wrong.

Next time, (because Molly knew, deep down, there would be a next time) she'd be single-purposed and without restraint. Not wandering around, calling for a boy who didn't answer, fearing the worst.

Gideon said it was maybe healthy, but a rubbish end of the whole thing.

Fabian had lectured at her. Raised his voice, even. Called her decision a mistake.