4 Hawthorn Hollow - Remediation || Rosie

Wednesday, August 23, 1922
~ 2:45 PM

---

It wasn’t Arundel Castle, but it was a nice place.

Freddie walked through the front yard, letting himself be impressed by the carefully tended flowerbeds and the rolling hills beyond the property. It hadn’t been easy to find, even after finding someone who happened to know the general area that the Barlowes had moved to. The young man had spent the better part of the morning moving across the countryside until he finally ran into a little old lady whose face lit up at the mention of family. He’d made it clear that he was a past student of both professors, though he hadn’t been. Frederick left for America at the end of his second year, years before either had been employed. It was an unnecessary detail.

Knock knock.

He could hear screaming from the other side of the door, the kind that filled a home and told you there was at least one happy child inside. The shuffling came next, then the footsteps, and finally the door swung open to a man who looked like he hadn’t slept in months.

As expected, Freddie didn’t recognise him, but that had never stopped him before. He grinned wide. "Hey, Professor Barlowe. Long time no see."

The man raised a brow at him, not in the slightest bit impressed by his sudden appearance at his home.

"And...you are...?" He drawled, looking him up and down.

"Freddie – I'm Rosie's friend. Stopped by to make sure she was alright." He looked beyond the man, ducking and lifting his head in an attempt to get a better look inside the home. "She in? Got a message from Cassian for her – you know him. McCormick?" Freddie leaned in, a conspiratorial look sparking behind his green irises. "Between you and me, I think it's time they wrapped up this little separation stint. Wouldn't you agree, good sir?"

"She--"

"I couldn't agree more, and we really have to do our part. Next step is dragging Cass over here if this doesn't work, but we keep the faith. I've already—"

The man raised a hand, letting out a heavy, longsuffering sigh. He waved Freddie around the side of the house. "She's in the garden. My sons have been screaming for the last hour. Don't give me a reason to kill you."

"...Right then, got it. The garden you said?"

"Mm-hmmm." He was ready to not be entertaining him at the front door. That was fine; Freddie happily got down from the porch and followed the flowerbed around the side of the house into the backyard.

Rosie.

Merlin, he hadn't seen that girl in a year. Now she knelt before a bed of plants he didn't know as a wisp of something disappeared behind her shoulder.

She looked...well.

"Hey..." he greeted, cautiously approaching to give her time to register his presence. "Been a while, huh?"

“Julia’s going to hate you eating all her plants.”

Rosie lifted the little demiguise out of the garden bed and set her down at her feet. “She won’t be nearly as willing to share her daisies if you keep stealing her mint.” Fawn was growing a little more every week, and apparently so was her appetite. If she wasn’t busy devouring whatever Rosie gave her, she was wandering through Julia’s garden as though personally invited to sample the selection.

Rosie ran her hand through the calendula, turning the leaves and blossoms over in search of the healthiest sprigs. She clipped one here and another there, already lamenting that she hadn’t gotten the soil mixture quite right. Next year, she’d have to work blood meal into the bed before planting. As well-versed as Julia was in foraging and brewing, gardening had never been her forte. Rosie supposed it only made sense that her cousin couldn’t be naturally gifted at everything, despite the version of events Julia preferred to circulate.

Something shifted in the yard. Fawn felt it first. She scrambled up Rosie’s arm and disappeared into the curtain of her hair, curling herself tightly behind her shoulder.

Rosalie went still. For one horrible moment, she expected to turn and find Landon standing there again. Maddox had gone next door after the boy had tried to....

Well, she still didn’t know what he had meant to do.

Whatever it had been, Maddox had made himself perfectly clear to both Landon and his father: if the boy ever laid his hands on Rosalie again, there would be consequences. Surely he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come back.

“Hey…”

The voice caught her off guard. She knew it well, having spent the better part of two months living with him, but it took a moment for her mind to catch up to what her ears already knew. Rosie looked up, only half-believing the figure standing at the edge of the garden.

“Freddie?”

She rose so quickly that the freshly cut calendula slipped from her fingers and scattered over the grass.

Somehow, he was even taller than she remembered. His red hair burned brightly beneath the afternoon sun, and his freckles had darkened across his cheeks as though he’d spent half the summer outdoors. He was a long way from Wiltshire. Though she and Freddie had become good friends, she couldn’t imagine what could have brought him all the way out here without warning.

Had she missed an owl?

"Been a while, huh?"

A smile broke across her face before she could help it. Rosie rushed toward him and threw her arms around his middle.

“You big, stupid idiot,” she said affectionately, squeezing him tightly before pulling back to look him over. “It’s been a year! Where have you been? How have you been? Do you want something to drink? You must be melting. It’s stifling out here. Have you been walking long?”

From the color in his cheeks, it looked as though he’d crossed half the country on foot.

She caught him by the wrist and tugged him toward the shade beneath one of the trees, barely giving him a chance to answer. Fawn peeked cautiously from behind her shoulder, shiny black eyes fixed on Freddie as they settled into the grass.

Near the back door, Rosie caught Julia watching them. Her cousin lingered just long enough to assure herself that everything was all right before taking Evander by the hand and leading him inside.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” Rosie asked, folding her legs beneath her. Then the question settled a bit harsher between them.

Freddie had always written to her about Cassian. When there was something she ought to know. When Cassian was in trouble, or hurting, or too stubborn to tell her something himself. He had never simply appeared without warning.

Rosie’s smile faltered. She studied Freddie’s face again, suddenly searching it for everything she might have missed in her excitement. Friends though they were, Freddie was Cassian’s best friend. He wouldn’t have come all this way merely to surprise her.

Would he?

“Is Cassian all right?” Her voice had gone quieter. “Freddie…what happened?”

Rosie came at him so hard that it knocked the air out of him. Freddie coughed even as his arms wrapped around her. There was a part of him, perhaps the dreamy poet or the deep thinker people rarely learned about, that felt guilty at the ease with which he received what he knew his best friend had been craving since June. Another part of him felt some relief at the comfort. Rosie had always been a warm person. It wasn't hard to see what Cass did and for him to imagine how much colder the world must seem without her.

The last few days had been rough, and it felt like he'd hardly been able to breathe. The last few days had been...rough. Neither he nor Cassian had allowed themselves a real break of any kind.

The work that waited for them was one thing. The grief was another beast entirely. Even when there was time they could rest, sleep had been difficult to come by. Freddie felt almost as if he had to keep going. The redhead worried that the moment he allowed himself to crash, he might never get back up.

That was one of the reasons he'd been so adamant and determined to find Rosalie. It kept him moving. It filled him with purpose. It gave him a goal that he could orient himself around and a banner behind which he could rally. Something had to go write when so much had already gone wrong.

“You big, stupid idiot. It’s been a year! Where have you been? How have you been? Do you want something to drink? You must be melting. It’s stifling out here. Have you been walking long?”

"Well, you know me--"

Before he could get a proper answer out, she was already tugging him toward the tree. He admitted it took him aback. The way Cassian moped around when he thought he wasn't looking made it seem like Rosie had shut him out. Now, he reckoned that, had he brought Cassian here, they could've had this all solved in five minutes.

“What are you doing all the way out here?

"Looking for you, of course," he replied, flopping down into the cool shade. After all the walking he'd done in the sun, nothing felt better—well, maybe except whatever Rosie had offered him earlier. "Got any lemonade? I'm seconds from meeting my maker and don't think I've been doing the sort of things that'll get me let into those pearly gates lately." A tall, cold glass to help him forget the scorching sun that had followed him from door to door.

Her smile faltered.

“Is Cassian all right? Freddie…what happened?”

He waved her off lightly. "Never stopped worrying, I see. Relaaaxxx, I've been doing a bang-up job keeping him alive. At least two square meals a day. I take him for walks, and he gets enough sun."

More or less.

He popped open the first button of his shirt, certain he was seconds from combusting. He flapped the shirt against his chest, trying to force every spot of breeze he could against his soaked skin.

"He misses you, you know?"

Looking for her, hmm? Rosie adored Freddie. He was flamboyant, even more so than Cassian. The ease he carried himself with, as though life was one big adventure had always resonated with her. His charm was all warmth and mischief, and she'd never minded much being caught in it.

"Got any lemonade? I'm seconds from meeting my maker and don't think I've been doing the sort of things that'll get me let into those pearly gates lately."

"Why does that not surprise me?" she asked, her voice teasing as she flicked her hand toward the house, summoning the cold carafe of lemonade she'd put in the ice box that morning. "What have you been getting up to now? Breaking all the hearts in London?" She rolled her eyes in amusement as she handed the lemonade over and flicked her hand over him again, "Glacius." A gust of cool air flowed from her palm, settling over the boy who was busy fanning himself.

Now that he was properly taken care of, and she was sure he would be in every sentiment of the word if he found himself a nice girl to settle with, Rosie flopped herself down on her stomach beside him, propping her head up with her chin in her hands.

"Never stopped worrying, I see. Relaaaxxx, I've been doing a bang-up job keeping him alive. At least two square meals a day. I take him for walks, and he gets enough sun."

"What would the world do without Freddie Graham?" She smiled, her blue eyes softening against his green at the relief that Cassian...seemed to be okay. Freddie had never hesitated to let her know when he wasn't, so she could trust that he was. "You make him sound like a puppy," she sighed, crossing her arms and dropping her cheek against them.

"He misses you, you know?"

"No," she said with a little shrug, her expression falling more solemn. "I guess I don't. He never says he does. Never says anything, really." She pursed her lips, as she felt Fawn crawling gingerly from her shoulder to carefully collect a pink wildflower that sat between them. Still invisible, the flower seemed to pluck itself before disappearing into thin air with a series of little chomps.

"I miss him though. I wish you'd brought him. He didn't want to come?" she asked carefully, her tone almost nonchalant as she fished a bit. She watched the flower vanish as the grass moved beneath Fawn's feet. The demiguise moved towards Freddie, approaching him cautiously as silver fur slowly came into view. Rosie smiled, watching her. "I think she's curious about you. She hates the neighbor."

"Why does that not surprise me? What have you been getting up to now? Breaking all the hearts in London?"

She was talking, but Freddie was paying attention to the fancy handiwork. No wand in sight, and the girl had gotten him exactly what he had asked for. He whistled appreciatively. "Fa-an-cy. Didn't know you could do that. Cass never told me. Fucking calls me his best mate but only ever wants to tell me the sky's falling." he joked. "Never anything about your wandless magic or," he paused to sip his drink, "how refreshing the lemonade is when you make it. You don't reckon he's just trying to keep you from me, do you?"

He took another sip, easing back against the trunk of the tree and turning his gaze heavenward.

"No broken hearts but our own, Cass and me. Two miserable blokes roaming London. We make quite the pair, actually." Ghosts that had learned to dazzle so no one could see them fading. Cass wore the costume better than he did; Freddie could easily admit that. Until the prior week, the cavalier mischief with which he typically walked around with had been 100%. He didn't have too many cares in the world after returning to England. Life was fast, the people were plentiful, and he had a dazzling smile for them all.

"Glacius."

"You're an actual angel. Sent from above." The lemonade was at least a million times more refreshing once it was thoroughly chilled by the girl's wandless charm. How Cassian had let this one slip between his fingers, he would never understand, but it didn't matter. He was there to hopefully put an end to what he was now considering a senseless separation based on the little he could see.

"What would the world do without Freddie Graham?""

"I ask myself the same thing every day, darling." Freddie settled the cup down next to him, closing his eyes for a moment as he finally allowed himself to relax. It was nice out there in the Somerset countryside. The air was still without being stale, and so far from the hustle and bustle of London, he could almost feel his trouble drifting.

Only almost. He was getting restless again.

"You make him sound like a puppy,"

"He's acting like a puppy. Can't take your eye off him for too long."

"No, I guess I don't. He never says he does. Never says anything, really."

One eye opened to take her in. "That's a joke, yeah? Not sure comedy's the route for you, but everyone's got to start somewhere, I guess." She wasn't wrong that Cassian never said much, not when it came to Rosie. Aside from the moment where he'd share a thought or a longing, his marriage and their time together—then apart—really weren't the topics they circled. Where he drew the line was Rosalie not knowing how torn up Cass was at having to stay away from her.

Unless.

Freddie sighed. He really did have to do everything himself.

"I miss him though. I wish you'd brought him. He didn't want to come?"

"That..." His train of thought was momentarily derailed by the slow appearance of the silvery-haired creature. Curious, huh? Freddie had never seen a demiguise before, not outside of the textbooks they'd studied at Ilvermorny.

"She hates the neighbor."

"As she should; he's probably a real piece of work." He reached a hand out, offering it in case the creature should want to investigate more. He was careful not to spook it, understanding they were generally skittish creatures. "Cass...doesn't actually know I'm here," Freddie confessed. He took his hand back, clasping both behind his head so he could get comfortable against the tree again. "Better that way. He's got a lot on his shoulders. Opening night's on Friday and they've decided to make him director. Wild, don't you think?"

He painted the story in such a way that it didn't need the grim backdrop to stand on its own. Rosie didn't need to know about the grief, only the parts that explained she was about to miss something big.

"Bet he'd like it if you came. Bet it'd mean a lot. I don't know why he hasn't said it. Sometimes, I don't think anyone can really know what's going on in that head of his, but he misses you, Rosie, more than he knows what to do with."

"You don't reckon he's just trying to keep you from me, do you?"

"He's right to, isn't he?" She smiled again, "I believe he called you a menace once. What was it..." Rosie exaggerated, hemming while tapping her fingers against her cheek, pretending to search her mind for a long lost memory, "Something about you having no business being a menace to shy girls, but my memory could be fuzzy."

"No broken hearts but our own, Cass and me. Two miserable blokes roaming London. We make quite the pair, actually."

"Well why you?" she asked gently. She knew why Cassian was upset, but Freddie? "What's got you miserable?" When he started to say something, she cut him off, pointing her finger at him. "I mean it. I can read through the lines, Freddie." As suave and smooth as the boy could be, Rosie was very accustomed to the ways of theatre boys. While she didn't know all of Freddie's tells and couldn't read him nearly as well as she could Cassian, that little line of his was just enough to give him away.

They always hid the truth behind their bravado.

Actors.

"You're an actual angel. Sent from above."

"And you're a devil if I ever met one." Endearingly, of course. She raised her eyebrow, remaining quiet, taking tally of all the little hints he was knowingly or unknowingly dropping. He couldn't take his eyes off Cassian. They were miserable. Each little reveal clawed harder at her heart, wondering if...he was only getting worse when they were meant to be getting better? If he was getting worse - if he was using and spiraling, then what was the point of all of this?

"That's a joke, yeah? Not sure comedy's the route for you, but everyone's got to start somewhere, I guess."

She clicked her tongue. "I happen to be the funniest person you know." A bit of levity before she spoke the truth and the uncomfortable reality that came with. "But no, not a joke. He doesn't say it, you know? When he does write, which isn't a lot - and I'm not saying I write a ton either but - " she felt the need to clarify, "He never says he misses me. He only said he loved me when he sent his anniversary gift. But he doesn't say it back when I write it."

She shrugged a bit. "I know this my fault," she said, "and I want him to go and have fun and do the things that make him happy. I just...I wish he'd say something, one way or another." She was rambling, and the moment she realized it, she flushed red, focusing her eyes on Fawn and the little one's careful inspection of Freddie.

When he held his hand out, she leaned in a bit, taking stock of him with careful sniffs.

"As she should; he's probably a real piece of work."

"You have no idea." She didn't elaborate, but sighed as she flopped onto her back, spreading her arms out to her side to feel the grass beneath her. Fawn, apparently having concluded her investigation, remained visible, but climbed back up onto Rosie's chest where she perched, staring at the red-headed boy intently.

Cassian....didn't know Freddie was here? Rosie's forehead crinkled, not understanding. Then that meant Freddie had just decided to seek her out on his own. They were friends, yes, but he'd never gone out of his way to just visit with her before. There had been times during those two months where the two of them were alone or had gone to the market together or what have you, but he'd never purposely made sure to see her, especially without Cassian knowing.

"What do you mean? He's director?" That caught her attention, a small smile playing on her lips as her eyes widened. "What - what happened to your old director? Why would Cass - "

"Bet he'd like it if you came. Bet it'd mean a lot. I don't know why he hasn't said it. Sometimes, I don't think anyone can really know what's going on in that head of his, but he misses you, Rosie, more than he knows what to do with."

Oh.

The quiet stretched between them as Rosie turned her gaze up to the branches of the tree, watching as the leaves rustled in the light breeze. She mulled his words around in her head, searching for an answer that made sense even to her, but was coming up dreadfully short.

Cassian was director. After all this time. After so many years of trying and putting in the work to pull off his own productions, he was finally getting a real shot at it. There was nothing in the world that could have made her more proud, and she knew she'd love nothing more than to come and watch what he'd put together.

But...

"I don't think he wants me there, Freddie." She swallowed hard against the lump that had grown in her throat. "I'm sure he's nervous enough and...knowing I'm there...I just don't want to make a really good night for him turn bad. He deserves to have it to himself." She grew quiet again, but a hint of a smile painted her lips.

"I bet he's brilliant isn't he? I always knew he would be."

She just wished he could see himself the way she always had.

"He's right to, isn't he? I believe he called you a menace once. What was it... Something about you having no business being a menace to shy girls, but my memory could be fuzzy."

Freddie tutted.

"All I've ever been is a brilliant friend to him, and how does he repay me? With slander. May his socks become inexplicably wet." Cassian was too kind. There was a part of the redhead that was quite pleased to find his friend spoke so fondly about him in his absence. They'd been friends for as long as he could remember and had joined the theatre at around the same time. It had been Cassian's idea, and he'd wanted company. When many of their friends had cooled on Cassian, it had only made them closer. Freddie could still remember how terrified he was when his mother announced that she would be leaving England and taking him with her. It was home and where all his friends were. He thought he'd lose them all, and in some way, he had...all but Cassian. He'd written like he planned to, never going too long between owls and always being the most excited each summer when he returned.

It hurt to see him so cut up and to watch him spiral. He couldn't sit and wallow over wounds he'd rather ignore when he could try to help the boy who'd always been good to him.

"Well why you? What's got you miserable? I mean it. I can read through the lines, Freddie."

He waved his hand again, baulking lightly at Rosie's decision to be perceptive. Cass had always said that she was an observant one. "The hardest audience to please, in the end; too difficult to charm. Don't trouble yourself too much, love. It's just some theatre business. Lost our director recently, but you know what they say about the show."

He was the devil. "Butter me up all you'd like. I can only get you two free tickets."

But she was serious. In the middle of the turmoil, there really was a narrative that saw Rosalie uncertain of whether Cassian missed her or not. It was almost enough to fry the circuitry inside his mind. The difference between what the girl thought and what he knew to be real was day and night. But it made sense. She hadn't seen him unable to leave his bed. She never saw him slumped on the sidewalk, admitting he didn't know what his life was anymore or where he was meant to go. Rosie hadn't been the one to find him dazed on the side of the road the morning after their anniversary. Of course, she didn't know. Freddie wasn't all the way sure about what had been said – his mate had been known to catastrophise, after all – but he knew what had been received.

He didn't want to bother her. Cassian didn't want to bother him either, but Freddie was persistent and intolerant of his bullshit. He often dragged the agony out of him, one way or the other. Only things in the open healed, and often, Cass had to do the same for him.

"Maybe he doesn't know what to say," Freddie offered with a small shrug. "Even performers sometimes have a hard time finding the right words when something matters enough."

Her comment on her neighbour got the other eye open. Freddie's brows rose, wondering what the story there happened to be. He looked toward the fence, as if whoever it was might be waiting there, but there was no one. "Anyone me and Cass need to come and sort out for you?" It wasn't out of the question. While neither was inherently violent, Freddie was prepared to make a point for any bloke harrassing his friend and knew Cassian would be more than willing to stumble out of his stupor long enough to do the same for the woman he was growing more and more convinced didn't want to be his wife.

Freddie didn't elaborate about the director and what happened to him. While he and Cass had found a way to function in the days that followed, he also found that it was still too difficult to talk about Patrick without feeling every defence crumble. None of them had been able to. A comment about something he might have done, a joke he may have enjoyed, or even memories of them berating their best effort, and the group would suddenly grow sombre. Silence would take them, a melancholy that was too difficult to lift for him to risk in the moment.

It threatened to break the momentum he'd appeared with.

This wasn't about Patrick.

He quietly snapped his fingers at the demiguise, seeing whether she'd come close again.

Thankfully, Rosie herself broke the silence. Her words made him snort. "He's not nervous." None of them had the capacity to be, not when grief sat so heavily atop them. In another life, under different circumstances, Freddie was certain that Cass would allow himself the grace and excitement to be nervous. As it stood, his friend was marching along, absorbing without experiencing. Burdened by his own sense of responsibility while any of their friends could see that he had no business being inside the theatre in his current state. "But don't be so sure. You might be the only thing that can make the night for him."

The boy who loved the spotlight wanted nothing to do with it. When the curtains fell, Freddie wanted there to be something that had any hope of pulling him up from the abyss he feared he might lose him to this time.

"I bet he's brilliant isn't he? I always knew he would be."

"Why not come see for yourself? Even if you don't say hello. Wouldn't you like to see him?" It was a gamble, he knew. Rosie could show up to find him beaming like the big heads expected him to in his new role. She might see it as proof he didn't truly miss her. She could come and find the shell of the boy she'd left and think there was nothing to come back to. It could go horrible wrong. It could also jumpstart his friend just enough to remind him that he still had life and that, for now, that had to be enough.

They'd lost their director.

Lost him...how? He'd resigned? Moved on to other projects?

....Died?

Rosalie wanted to ask. She knew that their director had been the same since Cassian was small, and that her husband looked up to the man. On several occasions, especially when they were still growing in their friendship, Cassian had spoken highly of him and how Patrick had helped him overcome nerves and taught him how to be a more convincing actor. She'd met Patrick once, that first summer shortly after they had begun dating.

He was nice. Didn't seem the type to leave a production hanging so close to the end of summer.

She wanted to ask Freddie to elaborate, but she could sense it wasn't a topic he intended to linger on.

"Maybe he doesn't know what to say. Even performers sometimes have a hard time finding the right words when something matters enough."

That...was fair, wasn't it? That maybe Cassian didn't know what to say? Logically, she knew it made sense, but in the part of her brain that continued to panic, she found she could rationalize even that away. He didn't know what to say when she said she missed him? He didn't know what to say when she expressed that she loved him? If he didn't know...did that mean that he felt differently now?

Freddie said Cassian missed her more than he knew what to do with.

Why didn't it feel that way?

"Anyone me and Cass need to come and sort out for you?"

Hmm? Rosie was pulled back to his attention, following his gaze to the fence. "Oh...no. Maddox handled him, don't worry." She gave a tight smile and a light wave of her hand. Really, it was no big deal, and the last thing she needed was Cassian worrying about some neighbor boy when he'd already been dealt with. Maddox could be the intimidating type when he wanted to be, and since he'd gone over, Landon hadn't bothered her again.

Whatever Maddox had said or done had seemed to land hard.

"He's not nervous."

Another thing that confused her. The more Freddie said, the less everything seemed to make sense. The girl was beginning to realize that she was only being given small fragments of what was happening, and none of those fragments seemed to fit together. There were pieces missing between them that would make the story whole, but without context, she was left to fill in the blanks herself.

She had to admit she was coming up woefully short.

Were there things Freddie didn't want her to know? She understood that he probably wanted to protect Cassian's confidence and there were things he maybe didn't feel were his place to tell her.

But it only scared her more. What had been happening the last two months? What wasn't she being told? Why?

"But don't be so sure. You might be the only thing that can make the night for him."

Rosie hummed as Fawn followed the click of Freddie's fingers. Careful steps, as she hopped off of Rosie's chest and crossed the distance between them again. When she reached Freddie's hand, she hesitated, before gently nuzzling at his hand, trying him on for size. Rosie smiled, but said nothing. Demiguise were discerning. They didn't like just anyone and their ability to predict movements and intentions made them hard to win over.

"I just don't know what I'd do if he..." she shrugged, not wanting to think about it. Did she really think Cassian would reject her? Freddie didn't seem to think so, but...

"Why not come see for yourself? Even if you don't say hello. Wouldn't you like to see him?"

"So much," she answered quietly, her eyes finding Freddie's again. "Yeah, I guess I could. I wouldn't want to miss something this important. Maybe I'll bring Maggie with me. She'll be in town this weekend." She smiled lightly at Freddie. "She really liked you, you know. Every time she writes me she asks after you. Must have made an impression."

Her smile turned into a grin as she closed her eyes. "Alright, you win. I'll go. Now tell me about all the crazy things you've been up to this summer and I'll tell you mine." She'd missed her friend, and while she wasn't sure how long he planned to stay, she wasn't quite ready to give up his company just yet.

It was a little taste of the world she'd left behind and wanted so badly to find herself in again.

"Oh...no. Maddox handled him, don't worry."

Any other time, Freddie may have pressed. Rosie had become his friend, independent of Cassian. If she were having trouble with the bloke next door, it wasn't something he'd brush off because she was 'only' his mate's girlfriend – well, wife now, he supposed. If someone needed to be roughed up a bit, he was willing to drag Cass across the Somerset countryside to get it done. He knew he would appreciate the heads up and the opportunity to step in for her. But she said it was fine and that the professor had already handled it. There was a part of him that needed to believe that.

Truth was, he wasn't all the way sure that Cassian would appreciate him stopping by. While he was absolutely certain he would appreciate the heads-up, he wasn't sure that he'd appreciate the meddling with all the pressure building back at the theatre. As far as he knew, Freddie had 'stepped out to take a moment'. Both had tried to be understanding of each other in light of the discovery. He'd taken that understanding, shrouded himself in it, and then absconded across the country—for a noble cause.

"If that doesn't work out, you let me know, and I'll make sure we come back."

They were busy leading up to the play, but it was the sort of thing they could carve out time for if needed.

"Hey, you," he said, a small smile forming as the demiguise came to nuzzle against the back of his hand. He gave her a few scratches by her ear, under her chin, and at the top of her head. She was sweet, he'd admit. Although he never considered himself much of a creature person, Freddie wasn't immune to her charm.

"I just don't know what I'd do if he..."

Green eyes flickered back up to the girl, his smile widening into a teasing grin.

"If what? He breaks down sobbing uncontrollably? He starts professing the moon and stars like he's been prepping for that moment since you left? Don't worry, love, he's gotten much better at composing himself in the last few weeks. Won't shed a tear until he thinks you're not looking."

Was that a little too honest? He wasn't sure. Cassian had always been the dramatic type. It had done wonders to hide him, most people able to accept it as just another jab Freddie was taking at his friend. Something told him, only after saying it, that Rosie may read a little too deeply into it.

"So much. Yeah, I guess I could. I wouldn't want to miss something this important."

He'd imagined as much. Two people who loved each other the way they did, Freddie hadn't wanted their stubbornness of hurt to have them making decisions they wouldn't be able to take back when all of this was over. Rosie should be there. He knew it and Cassian knew it, even if the other boy was too deep in his grief to allow himself to admit it.

"Maybe I'll bring Maggie with me. She'll be in town this weekend. She really liked you, you know. Every time she writes me she asks after you. Must have made an impression."

There was a twinkle of mischief and nostalgia in his eyes. "Does she? Great time that one, but can't say I'm surprised," he said, a deliberately casual shrug rolling off his shoulders. "I know what I'm doing. Bring her along. Everyone can have a good time."

Including her.

."Alright, you win. I'll go. Now tell me about all the crazy things you've been up to this summer and I'll tell you mine."

That was what he wanted to hear. Freddie tipped the glass to his head, draining the last of the lemonade before giving a satisfied exhale. "Much as I'd love to, I've got to be getting back. We're in crunch time now over at the theatre. Your loverboy thinks I took a walk around the block – he'll be out of his mind whenever he pulls his ass out of his directing long enough to realise I haven't come back yet."

Freddie rose to his feet, using the trunk of the tree to steady himself as he rose.

"We'll catch up. You, me, all of us. This..." His voice softened by a degree. "We'll be alright." He stretched with a loud groan, eager to cover that moment with something more ordinary and inconsequential. "I'll be seeing you at the theatre. Don't let me down with your friend."

With a final wave, he was gone.