The Blue Danube [OLD]

- 𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔳𝔢. ﾐ

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⠀⠀╲⠀╲⠀☆⠀ ╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀☆⠀╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★

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november 1858

For the first month it didn't really register. His mind was blank, devoid of proper, coherent thought for a long time. Most days spent lying in bed, staring up to the ceiling, eyes unfocussed and not really looking at anything. He would try and get up to do things, especially if Mimi would bother him to do something or other, but he couldn't bring himself to. His body was chained permanently to the bed, not eating, sleeping or washing himself. Ringo, George and Pete would visit every now and again, coming to sit on the edge of his bed next to him, try and prompt him to eat, or go have a bath. They would say something along the lines of; "I'm so sorry, John... is there anything I can do to help you?" every time they were there. They would squeeze his arm or shoulder with that horrible, sickly sweet sympathy, genuinely concerned and sad for him but unknowing of what it was really like. George, a bit better, since he had lost siblings. But never a parent. 
Stuart even came one day, too. His expression was unreadable, but John was grateful of his presence. They just sat in silence, until his ex-lover laid down beside him, entwining their hands, both staring up at the ceiling in silence. When the prince woke up, Stuart was gone.

He couldn't remember what really made him snap. Maybe it was something Mimi said or did, maybe his friends said something. Maybe it was nothing at all. It was late at night, another sleepless night occurring for the prince, when he finally realised. She was gone. He would never meet his mother, get to know her, hug her, touch her jacinth locks that bounced every time she took a step. He could vaguely remember her seashell eyes from the many years ago, where she persisted on seeing her son before giving up finally when he was about ten, never to be seen again. Killed by a drunk carriage rider, who hadn't been in control of his horse, which went awry and ran her over. He had cried a lot that night, screaming into his pillow and dissolving into a grief-stricken, anguished mess. He could hear footsteps coming to his door, but no one came in. He suspected now that it was Mimi, not really paying attention when it had actually happened.

"I hadn't even gotten ta know her. I never got ta even see 'er house!" A bellow ripped from John's throat, all muscles clenched, veins surfacing on his forehead and neck, face turned red with fury. "Ye never fuckin' told me. Never, ever told me where she lived. Ye never let me proper meet 'er. How fuckin' could ye, Mimi? How could ye?" 

His previous words echoed in John's mind. That fight occurred a day after the funeral. Only a very small amount of people attended, all having to wear disguises to keep it under wraps. Mimi, John, his half-sisters, a couple family members who were let in on the secret of John not actually being Mimi's son, and that Julia had run out on the royal family to be with Alfred, plus George and Ringo. It was the second and last time Mimi was ever that lenient, letting John's friends attend, since she knew how much they meant to him, even if she disagreed with their friendship due to their class.