fic, challenge #17
Title: You can't help it.
Summary: Pesky little seeds of doubt
Characters/Pairings: Bellatrix, Sirius, Remus, and Regulus
Genre: General with a dash of angst?
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for language and a bit of blood
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1475
"Don't you understand, you filthy little beast?" Bellatrix crooned in partonizing tones.
Against his desire, Remus' eyes flickered back to Sirius' body. He easily told himself it was to make sure he was still breathing. Trusting Bellatrix wasn't a mistake he ever wanted to have to learn from. It had all happened so fast - Sirius tearing off down the hall after her as soon as she'd dropped her mask, Remus following without thinking. They should have seen it for the trap it was. By the time Remus had darted into the empty bedroom of the shoddy, run-down house, Sirius was already on the ground and in the next instant Remus had been unable to move, to even speak. As the door had slammed shut she'd smiled fiercely, circling him once to rest her hands upon his shoulders so she could speak softly in his ear.
"I could kill him," she mused, her words lilting with something akin to fondness. "Like this... he's so fucking stupid sometimes, but you know that... defenseless. Just like when he was a child."
It made Remus skin crawl anew, the idea that at some point surely this woman had held Sirius when he'd been a child. An infant. Sirius never talked about his family. Remus never asked. But sometimes, when the conversation would dip toward Lily's sister, or Remus' parents, or Peter's cousin, Sirius' eyes would wander to James' and they'd share some unspoken conversation, recollection, understanding- and Remus would be reminded yet again that there were still parts to Sirius' life (and they had to be significant, had to hold some kind of developmental sway on the person he'd become) that he wouldn't share with Remus. Some part of him he still felt he had to lock away.
"But just think what a waste it would be," she went on. The statement stilled Remus' existence entirely. She wasn't supposed to care. What Remus did know of Sirius' family was that being disowned was like being declared dead. "And I think you know why," the words were breathed against his ear in a way that made every inch of him feel sullied. He told himself he didn't know what she was yammering on about, didn't suspect anything, never paused to consider that Sirius' former family might find a way to pull his strings. He didn't believe those things. It was just the war. It was the leaks in the Order. And sometimes you had to think about a problem from every angle, not just the ones you were comfortable with. Not that he said any of it out loud, because he didn't really believe it. Still, he didn't like that she might imply it, that she might be able to see- "Because despite what he's reduced himself to now, you can't fight blood. Flooding through his body, it's the same as mine. He's trying. You can see him straining with the effort of it, trying to keep it bottled in... but give it enough time, and he'll grow weary of pretending. The little prince will decide he's had enough of playing the pauper, and he'll remember who he is."
Blasphemy, toxic and venomous, dripped off her tongue as naturally as flowers shed their petals. He would have been relieved that she was slipping away from him if she hadn't been moving toward Sirius' body. Defensive indignation, a sharp desire to protect the young man who was every bit as defenseless at the moment as she'd claimed, rose violently in Remus' bound chest. He couldn't let her hurt him, and she had no right touch him, but he couldn't move. Frustration tightened around his neck. There was nothing for it. There was nothing he could do to prevent her from kneeling down next to him, to bar her hand from reaching out to almost touch his face - but she didn't. Her hand hovered above his cheek, as though some invisible barrier prevented her from touching her gloved hand to his skin.
"You hurt them," she said softly, her voice a putrid blend of wry and knowing and mocking and tender that she had no right to direct toward the man she refused to acknowledge as her cousin. He didn't know how she'd managed it, but there was suddenly a blade in her grasp. Her vacant lips curled slightly when she heard Remus give a grunt of protest, of railing against the bonds that held him. "You... cut at them," the blade of her knife slicing quickly across his cheekbone to mirror her delivery of the word. And just as quickly as it had appeared, the knife was evaporating in her grasp while she adopted a sympathetic tone, "You can't help it." Her eyes were entranced by the thin, weeping ribbon of red across the pale of Sirius' cheek. "It's just your nature." Remus honestly believed Bellatrix was addled enough that she wasn't doing this just for his benefit, that she'd be doing the exact same thing whether he was there to see it or not. The thought of the two of them alone turned his stomach. Looking at them now, Sirius' features relaxed in oblivion, hers tranquil in her preoccupation, he'd never realized how similar they could look. She wasn't masculine and he wasn't effeminate, but they mirrored the same atavistic bone structure, like tarnished remnants of a gilded era long dead. "They can't understand." And for a split second Remus believed her before he had the sense to dismiss anything she said because she was, in all likelihood, completely out of her mind.
Fingertips sheathed in black silk were brought to her lips, the fabric trapped by her teeth so that as she pulled her hand away it slipped free of her glove. The glove dropped into her other hand. Caution seemed banished by desire, her bare hand was reaching toward the gash she'd drawn with true purpose when a sigh of settling shadows and robes sounded off to Remus' left.
"Bella," the word was snapped out, sharply lashed but without malice.
It froze the progress of her hand, had her tilting her gaze over her shoulder. Her lips smiled easily.
"Don't," Regulus gave a shake of his head along with the instruction.
She complied, a miraculous occurrance to Remus' eyes. Then again, their father was dead. Regulus was probably now the head of the House of Black - the only other allegiance Bellatrix seemed to hold. Rising to her feet she replaced her glove upon her hand. Regulus walked past Remus as if he didn't see the other at all.
"It's done, then?" she asked, lifting her gaze to Regulus' masked face.
He gave a nod before holding out a mask for her to take. Remus had to wonder if there was some kind of sentimental value, from the way she delicately took the white mask he knew would break for nothing short of a serious hex. Regulus' eyes must have dropped to Sirius' body because Bellatrix turned to glance back at it. Not yet bothering to replace her mask, she pressed her lips against the smooth barrier to his cheek. Remus didn't understand what was passing between them, or why Regulus nestled a hand into his cousin's hair, pulling her head against his chest. That they ignored him completely was hardly strange - pureblood elitism made anyone they considered beneath them all but invisible, enabling them to behave as if he didn't exist. It was how the world made people like him invisible. What was bizarre was the way they seemed... fuck, they didn't seem human, but there was something going on, that he didn't understand, and if Remus didn't know any better he'd have thought they were... he didn't know. They were creatures incomprehensible to Remus, embodiments of the concealed complexity of Sirius' past, things beyond Remus' grasp, held at a distance by Sirius' own arm. For a moment Remus couldn't help but wonder if it was maybe because he simply couldn't understand. And in the next, regardless of that fear, a certainty crept up his spine that even if it wasn't true, that Sirius must believe it.
"I know," was all she said before they vanished in a wispy, black ascension.
Remus had barely heard the sentiment, soft and soothing, that had been directed at Regulus. Left alone, Remus let his fear and relief and new fears well up without restraint. And then the invisible bonds that had trapped his body dissipated. Bereft of their support, Remus stumbled forward with an exhaustion inconsistent with the brief period of his captivity. Why did they leave? Why did they leave them both alive? And why had- too many why's filled up the small space between Sirius and Remus. Bellatrix, who should have wanted to kill her cousin, had done nothing. Nothing she'd said could be trusted. She should have killed them both. It didn't sit right. And Remus couldn't understand it.
Lara//Slytherin
Summary: Pesky little seeds of doubt
Characters/Pairings: Bellatrix, Sirius, Remus, and Regulus
Genre: General with a dash of angst?
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for language and a bit of blood
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1475
"Don't you understand, you filthy little beast?" Bellatrix crooned in partonizing tones.
Against his desire, Remus' eyes flickered back to Sirius' body. He easily told himself it was to make sure he was still breathing. Trusting Bellatrix wasn't a mistake he ever wanted to have to learn from. It had all happened so fast - Sirius tearing off down the hall after her as soon as she'd dropped her mask, Remus following without thinking. They should have seen it for the trap it was. By the time Remus had darted into the empty bedroom of the shoddy, run-down house, Sirius was already on the ground and in the next instant Remus had been unable to move, to even speak. As the door had slammed shut she'd smiled fiercely, circling him once to rest her hands upon his shoulders so she could speak softly in his ear.
"I could kill him," she mused, her words lilting with something akin to fondness. "Like this... he's so fucking stupid sometimes, but you know that... defenseless. Just like when he was a child."
It made Remus skin crawl anew, the idea that at some point surely this woman had held Sirius when he'd been a child. An infant. Sirius never talked about his family. Remus never asked. But sometimes, when the conversation would dip toward Lily's sister, or Remus' parents, or Peter's cousin, Sirius' eyes would wander to James' and they'd share some unspoken conversation, recollection, understanding- and Remus would be reminded yet again that there were still parts to Sirius' life (and they had to be significant, had to hold some kind of developmental sway on the person he'd become) that he wouldn't share with Remus. Some part of him he still felt he had to lock away.
"But just think what a waste it would be," she went on. The statement stilled Remus' existence entirely. She wasn't supposed to care. What Remus did know of Sirius' family was that being disowned was like being declared dead. "And I think you know why," the words were breathed against his ear in a way that made every inch of him feel sullied. He told himself he didn't know what she was yammering on about, didn't suspect anything, never paused to consider that Sirius' former family might find a way to pull his strings. He didn't believe those things. It was just the war. It was the leaks in the Order. And sometimes you had to think about a problem from every angle, not just the ones you were comfortable with. Not that he said any of it out loud, because he didn't really believe it. Still, he didn't like that she might imply it, that she might be able to see- "Because despite what he's reduced himself to now, you can't fight blood. Flooding through his body, it's the same as mine. He's trying. You can see him straining with the effort of it, trying to keep it bottled in... but give it enough time, and he'll grow weary of pretending. The little prince will decide he's had enough of playing the pauper, and he'll remember who he is."
Blasphemy, toxic and venomous, dripped off her tongue as naturally as flowers shed their petals. He would have been relieved that she was slipping away from him if she hadn't been moving toward Sirius' body. Defensive indignation, a sharp desire to protect the young man who was every bit as defenseless at the moment as she'd claimed, rose violently in Remus' bound chest. He couldn't let her hurt him, and she had no right touch him, but he couldn't move. Frustration tightened around his neck. There was nothing for it. There was nothing he could do to prevent her from kneeling down next to him, to bar her hand from reaching out to almost touch his face - but she didn't. Her hand hovered above his cheek, as though some invisible barrier prevented her from touching her gloved hand to his skin.
"You hurt them," she said softly, her voice a putrid blend of wry and knowing and mocking and tender that she had no right to direct toward the man she refused to acknowledge as her cousin. He didn't know how she'd managed it, but there was suddenly a blade in her grasp. Her vacant lips curled slightly when she heard Remus give a grunt of protest, of railing against the bonds that held him. "You... cut at them," the blade of her knife slicing quickly across his cheekbone to mirror her delivery of the word. And just as quickly as it had appeared, the knife was evaporating in her grasp while she adopted a sympathetic tone, "You can't help it." Her eyes were entranced by the thin, weeping ribbon of red across the pale of Sirius' cheek. "It's just your nature." Remus honestly believed Bellatrix was addled enough that she wasn't doing this just for his benefit, that she'd be doing the exact same thing whether he was there to see it or not. The thought of the two of them alone turned his stomach. Looking at them now, Sirius' features relaxed in oblivion, hers tranquil in her preoccupation, he'd never realized how similar they could look. She wasn't masculine and he wasn't effeminate, but they mirrored the same atavistic bone structure, like tarnished remnants of a gilded era long dead. "They can't understand." And for a split second Remus believed her before he had the sense to dismiss anything she said because she was, in all likelihood, completely out of her mind.
Fingertips sheathed in black silk were brought to her lips, the fabric trapped by her teeth so that as she pulled her hand away it slipped free of her glove. The glove dropped into her other hand. Caution seemed banished by desire, her bare hand was reaching toward the gash she'd drawn with true purpose when a sigh of settling shadows and robes sounded off to Remus' left.
"Bella," the word was snapped out, sharply lashed but without malice.
It froze the progress of her hand, had her tilting her gaze over her shoulder. Her lips smiled easily.
"Don't," Regulus gave a shake of his head along with the instruction.
She complied, a miraculous occurrance to Remus' eyes. Then again, their father was dead. Regulus was probably now the head of the House of Black - the only other allegiance Bellatrix seemed to hold. Rising to her feet she replaced her glove upon her hand. Regulus walked past Remus as if he didn't see the other at all.
"It's done, then?" she asked, lifting her gaze to Regulus' masked face.
He gave a nod before holding out a mask for her to take. Remus had to wonder if there was some kind of sentimental value, from the way she delicately took the white mask he knew would break for nothing short of a serious hex. Regulus' eyes must have dropped to Sirius' body because Bellatrix turned to glance back at it. Not yet bothering to replace her mask, she pressed her lips against the smooth barrier to his cheek. Remus didn't understand what was passing between them, or why Regulus nestled a hand into his cousin's hair, pulling her head against his chest. That they ignored him completely was hardly strange - pureblood elitism made anyone they considered beneath them all but invisible, enabling them to behave as if he didn't exist. It was how the world made people like him invisible. What was bizarre was the way they seemed... fuck, they didn't seem human, but there was something going on, that he didn't understand, and if Remus didn't know any better he'd have thought they were... he didn't know. They were creatures incomprehensible to Remus, embodiments of the concealed complexity of Sirius' past, things beyond Remus' grasp, held at a distance by Sirius' own arm. For a moment Remus couldn't help but wonder if it was maybe because he simply couldn't understand. And in the next, regardless of that fear, a certainty crept up his spine that even if it wasn't true, that Sirius must believe it.
"I know," was all she said before they vanished in a wispy, black ascension.
Remus had barely heard the sentiment, soft and soothing, that had been directed at Regulus. Left alone, Remus let his fear and relief and new fears well up without restraint. And then the invisible bonds that had trapped his body dissipated. Bereft of their support, Remus stumbled forward with an exhaustion inconsistent with the brief period of his captivity. Why did they leave? Why did they leave them both alive? And why had- too many why's filled up the small space between Sirius and Remus. Bellatrix, who should have wanted to kill her cousin, had done nothing. Nothing she'd said could be trusted. She should have killed them both. It didn't sit right. And Remus couldn't understand it.
Lara//Slytherin