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intheheartTitle: Air
Rating: PG-13
Summary: They said millions of people had died.
Warnings: epidemic disease, death thereby, mention of premature birth/stillbirth.
Notes: Despite the AU name, this particular story has nothing to do with the Titanic, and everything to do with the Spanish flu.
They said millions of people had died. Felipe could believe that.
It was Papa who brought the pneumonia home from the front, coughing all the way off the train and into bed, but it was Mama who died, gasping for air in a hospital bed. The baby was born too early, too little to breathe. There weren't enough coffins, so they put her in with Mama. Felipe thought she would have liked that.
Antònia died at home, a week later. Felipe and Carlos slept on the floor, to give her some breathing room, except in the morning she was dead and so was Carlos, still and blue in their nest of blankets.
He remembered the feeling more than anything else; the grief rising up and choking him, the taste of blood in his mouth, except the pneumonia rose up and choked him too, and all he remembered after that were fever dreams.
He survived, somehow. So did Papa, so did Luiza. They survived, and fled for America, leaving Mama and Antònia, Carlos and the baby in the bloody red mud.
In America, they called it the Spanish flu.
He wished with all his heart that it had stayed in Spain.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: They said millions of people had died.
Warnings: epidemic disease, death thereby, mention of premature birth/stillbirth.
Notes: Despite the AU name, this particular story has nothing to do with the Titanic, and everything to do with the Spanish flu.
They said millions of people had died. Felipe could believe that.
It was Papa who brought the pneumonia home from the front, coughing all the way off the train and into bed, but it was Mama who died, gasping for air in a hospital bed. The baby was born too early, too little to breathe. There weren't enough coffins, so they put her in with Mama. Felipe thought she would have liked that.
Antònia died at home, a week later. Felipe and Carlos slept on the floor, to give her some breathing room, except in the morning she was dead and so was Carlos, still and blue in their nest of blankets.
He remembered the feeling more than anything else; the grief rising up and choking him, the taste of blood in his mouth, except the pneumonia rose up and choked him too, and all he remembered after that were fever dreams.
He survived, somehow. So did Papa, so did Luiza. They survived, and fled for America, leaving Mama and Antònia, Carlos and the baby in the bloody red mud.
In America, they called it the Spanish flu.
He wished with all his heart that it had stayed in Spain.
