Chapter 5 - Breaking Down

Chapter Five: Breaking Down

John was in his office, putting away files that contained trial dates and appointment schedules, when he ran across a name he knew. “Wood, Oliver," he whispered, as he looked around to make sure the woman he shared his office with was out of the room. John then opened the file. As he read the contents, his face fell. Several days ago, Alvin Flint came in and reported that the boy's mother had been absent for some time. In the report, he described how the boy came to be in his care and wanted Siliva Wood to be held responsible.

The paperwork had been sent through in a remarkable time lapse and a trial had already been set for Siliva. John covered his mouth with his hand as he found out that Siliva never showed up. Since she never showed up, the Wizengamot ruled that she voluntarily gave up the rights to her child. John could not believe that Siliva would purposely give up her son. This had to be a mistake, he knew, and so set off to contact her right away.



It was late as Siliva came through the door of her apartment. Her head was pounding to the point of explosion and her whole body was tired. As she closed the door behind her, her eyes half closed, she kicked off her shoes and stripped out of her clothing, leaving them in a trail. She made her way towards the couch and collapsed.

The last two weeks had not gone well for her. Jason Conaway, her primary target, was a smart man and did not fall easily for tricks that the others had fallen for. To get what she needed from him would take more dedication than she was used to giving for a job. She never left Oliver alone for this long before and thought about him constantly while she was away. She would have to check on him as soon as possible. With that thought she tried to lift herself from the couch, but found it impossible as her body refused to move and so she gave up and fell asleep soon after.

It was early afternoon when Siliva was awakened by a loud sound outside her window. She yawned as she groggily rose from her slumber to let the owl in. As she opened the window the large brown owl flew in. "Oliver!" she yelled, which she immediately knew was a bad idea as her brain still felt like it was swimming around in her head. Siliva made her way over to the owl, which landed on the armrest of one of the chairs, and untied the parchment from around its leg. She was about to open it, but something caught her eye and she turned her head. There was something on the floor.

Siliva sent the owl away and tossed the letter aside, and went to investigate. She squatted down and ran her finger over the reddish-brown stain. She frowned as she recognized it as dried blood. "Oliver?" she called again. She then walked over to the bottom of the stairs, and when she didn't receive an immediate reply, she began to make her way up. She walked down the hall and slowly pushed opened her son's door. "Oliver?" she called softly, but there was no sign of him.

Siliva hurried back down the stairs and picked up her clothes; ready to put them back on, but as quick as she picked them up she dropped them back to the floor, for more dry blood laid underneath. She was in a panic now. Where was her son?

OoOoO

Oliver sat on the couch in the Flint's home and he looked at the two adults. One was squatted down in front of him while the other stood on the other side of the room with their arms over their chest. "I don't understand," Oliver told them. "She always comes back," he said, on the verge of tears.

"Ollie, sweetie," Gale tried to reach for him. She wanted to comfort him so badly, but he wouldn't allow her to touch him. "It's okay. Alvin and I have discussed this, and if you want to, you can stay with us."

"I want to go home," Oliver told her. "I want my mummy!" he yelled, before covering his face with his hands.

"Oliver, please." Gale took his arms and tried to lower them.

"No!" He pushed her before standing up and running up the stairs. Gale and Alvin then heard a door slam.

"That didn't go well, did it?" Gale asked her husband as he helped her up.

"He's just a little boy. He's scared," Alvin tried to explain. "I mean, it's not everyday you find out your mother doesn't want you anymore." He took Gale in his arms and held her. "He's going to need time, that's all."

Marcus was upstairs in his room when he heard the bathroom door slam shut. He walked out his room and down the hall before he knocked on the door. "Ollie, are you okay?" he had asked. His parents had sat him and Chelsie down the night before while Oliver slept and told them was what going on. They wanted to know how they felt if Oliver became a part of their family. Neither of the children objected to the idea. "Ollie?" he called again. Instead of a reply, all he heard was the sound of the shower coming on.

"Has he locked himself in?" Marcus turned to see Chelsie standing behind him. Marcus checked the knob and the shook his head. "Well, come on then." Chelsie reached out and turned the knob before she and her brother went inside to find Oliver, fully clothed, sitting in the shower. Chelsie sat on the edge of the tub while Marcus knelt beside it and looked in on his friend.

"It's not the end of the world, Ollie," Marcus told him gently.

Oliver turned his head slowly towards the dark haired boy. "How would you know? Your mum still loves you."

"She can be your mum too."

"It's not the same." If he was crying, neither of the Flint children could tell as the water ran down his face. "I have my own mum and I want her."

You're right. It's not the same." Chelsie laid her hand on Oliver's head, and he turned to look at her. "Tell me, Oliver, do you really want to go back to a woman who's always leaving you alone?" she asked him. "How often did you have to tuck yourself in at night? How often did you have to eat at the kitchen table by yourself? Even if it was only once, that's one time too many." Oliver lowered his head at her words.

"Don't you want to be our brother?" Marcus asked him. "We want you to be. It'll be fun, you'll see." He looked at his sister for help. "Tell him, Chelsie."

Chelsie opened her mouth to speak, but Oliver beat her to it. "I don't want to be alone anymore."

"And you won't be." Chelsie slid around and lowered herself into the shower where she wrapped her arms around Oliver, pressing his back against her. Marcus then followed her lead, got in front of them, and put his arms around the both of them. "See this, Ollie? This is never far, this will always be here. . . if only you choose to accept it." They stayed in that position for quite awhile before Oliver lifted his arms. He started to put them around Marcus, but then pulled away before quickly throwing them back around the other and holding him close. Chelsie smiled. "Welcome home. . . little brother."



"What do you mean, I've lost custody?" Siliva yelled at John. "He's my son!"

"I'm sorry, Siliva, but there is no way around it. When you didn't show up for the hearing-"

"How could I? I was on assignment. I didn't know." She paced back and forth in her living room, nervously sweeping her hair behind her ears. "What am I suppose to do? How am I supposed to get him back?" She turned quickly to John. "What about an appeal?"

“You can, but it will be difficult considering Oliver was hurt in your absence," John sighed. I've read the report, they had an interview with him and though he was quite reluctant, it was very clear that Oliver was used to being on his own, which isn't working on your side either."

Siliva shook her head as she slowly dropped to her knees in front of him. "There has to be something you can do, John. You have connections within the Ministry. What happened to Gatoos taking care of their own?"

"Yes, I have connections," he explained. "I'm prepared to cover up blotched assassinations and to keep you Gatoos out of Azkaban, not make sure you don't lose your children."

"Then what the hell are you good for?" she asked angrily as she stood up, tears running down her face. "John, I just want my son back. Can you at least tell me where he is?"

John stood up along her. "You can't go after him, not unless. . ."

"Unless what?" She grabbed onto his arm. "What are you not telling me?"

"An appeal may come easier, if you throw the Wood name in, but-”

"Stop, because if you're talking about going back to my father, after he disowned me, there is no way in the world."

"I thought you cared about Oliver?"

"I do."

"Then go back to Scotland."

Siliva shook her head. “I can't. Not after all this time." She clung on to John, burying her head in his chest. "I was doing so well. I know he may have been a bit lonely, but it was all going to pay off if I could just get him through school."

She started to cry softly as John did his best to comfort her, but he had news that would not allow him to do so. "Siliva," he began softly. "I was trying to wait to give you this news, but I don't think I can."

She pulled away from him slightly as she wiped away her tears. "What are you talking about?" she asked as she watched him take a letter out of his robe pocket. He handed it to her. “What is this?" She looked to him, but he only shook his head as he made a gesture for her to open the letter.

As Siliva read the letter to herself, she covered her hand over her mouth. She then looked to John, hoping he would tell her that it was a mistake, but all she got out of him was, "You have forty-eight hours."

The brown-headed woman frowned and shook her head from side to side. "A restraining order, John? I don't understand."

"Oliver is still in the building-,"

"What? Where is he?" Siliva started towards the door. "What floor?"

"Siliva." John grabbed her. "You can't."

"Just tell me who has him," she demanded as she once again grabbed onto him.

"It's best if you don't know."

"John!" she yelled.

John sighed. He knew he could not deny her. " Flint."

Siliva just stared at him as if she had misheard him. "Flint? As in Alvin Flint? As in Death Eater Alvin Flint?" John merely nodded his head. She then pulled herself away from him and walked over to the bookcase located on the other side of the living room.

John watched as she grabbed a book and frantically started flipping through it. "What are you doing?" he asked her with concern.

Siliva rested the book against her chest as she sighed heavily. She then looked to John and said with a defeated voice, "I'm going home."

To Be Continued. . .

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