(no subject)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Title: Hurt/Comfort
Author:
Rating: PG-13 for domestic violence and profanity.
Word Count: 1,678
Prompt: We choose our own paths...this one is mine. - Crichton, Farscape "Fractures"
Disclaimer: Violence towards children behind the cut. Colorful language was well. Half-inspired by canon, and the other half by various RPs. I’m not entirely pleased with Tobias portrayal, just because I don’t like to absolve characters of their sins by saying “they’ve had a hard life” That being said, it works for this piece. Read and review, please?
Cross posted to
10_inspirations
Tobias Snape was smoking when Severus walked into the house. Despite himself, he was aware of the way his muscles tensed in his shoulders. He felt his shoulders roll back, and stoop all at once. He stopped inside the door, and stared at his father for several moments, not thinking to move. His body always got like that when his brain became aware of his father: it was a slight change in the air: somehow it became colder. His muscles in his arms tightened against trembling. His jaw set. He was aware he was slouching again, curling into the doorframe but he was unaware of it was because of the dizziness and nausea in his stomach or fear of his father.
Tobias lifted his beetle black eyes towards his son, and replaced the cigarette to his lips as he rose. “Where were ya, boy?”
“Out.”
“Don’t get smart with me, boy.” Tobias hissed. He was chewing on his cigarette end. The red ember glowed in the fading light. “Where you been?”
“…Out.” The room was spinning out of control now. Severus wanted to lie down. The pain in his left forearm was creeping up his arm and into his shoulder blade. He tasted iron in his mouth. He wanted the room to stop moving. “M’back before curfew.”
“You getting smart with me.” Tobias warned. One massive paw of a hand reached out and tapped Severus’ head a little too roughly to be entirely innocent. It didn’t hurt but the first ones rarely did. The cigarette gleamed once more. Tobias exhaled the gray-white smoke over Severus’ head.
Back when Lee was still around, Severus usually took this chance to ask him to put the cigarette out. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t. In truth, it was usually just the next step in what would escalate to pain and lots of it. Tobias liked the game, Severus thought sometimes, and Severus didn’t quite know anything else. As it was, the bitter smell reached Severus’ nostrils and crept up into his brain, intermingling from the pain. Severus felt his stomach rise threateningly to the back of his throat.
Severus instead pulled away from that, and forced himself to watch his father’s hand. There were stains on his fingertips from the tobacco. His hands shook. They always shook. Lee said it was the war. He thought it was the drink. It didn’t really matter.
In Severus head, he created Lee to get up and walk slowly out of the room, just like Eileen always did when Tobias approached Severus like he had now. It made it more real. Severus stifled the sneer on his lips. Tobias caught it anyways. “You eyeing me now too…”
“No…”
“Disrespectful little shit…” And the first blow came then, hard into Severus chest. He slammed against the shelf of books nearest to him, his skull rattling against the leather tomes. The smells of ink, paper, smoke and pain filled his senses. He didn’t cry out. He rarely did in the beginning.
He felt the weight of Tobias crushing his ribs. “Say something, kid! Say something!” Any response Severus was choked by the second shot to his ribs by Tobias elbow. Severus was choking now, from the vertigo and then from the hit. He could feel the tears stinging his eyes. He hated crying, and he did it every time even though he was more angry then hurt. Why did he cry? It didn’t do anything except make his head hurt more.
He screamed as Tobias twirled him then, yanking him forward by the arm, twisting it hard against his back. His wrist popped, making him cry out again and he became aware of his father’s knee dragged hard into his spine as he hit the floor, and was pinned.
“Stay down.” Tobias was saying. “Stay down, you little punk and listen to me! I don’t know what you’re doing but I don’t like it! I don’t give a shit what your little friends are into, my kid isn’t going to be some dumb ass little shit. Do ya hear me?! I’m not going to let my kid be some fucking…”
Severus felt like his skull was going to break open. He pushed his wrists under him, and tried to push free. He felt his wrist give on him, and his left arm melt from under him. He choked again, on the tears.
“Little shit, what you think you’re better then me? Think I don’t know what I’m saying? Shit, you’re just like your mother, you little bastard. Look at you…you think some fucking tough guy. I’ll show you tough…don’t you ever fucking eyeball me again, boy! You sick pathetic…” Tobias tirade died down, as he plucked the cigarette from his lips. Severus began to writhe under him. “Yeah, you bastard, you know this…teach you to mind me…”
Severus wasn’t aware of what was happening. Not yet. He wouldn’t for another couple of days when the pale purple welt began to form under his eye. He was aware of the simple, easy pain. It wasn’t the most he had ever felt, not by far, but it crawled through his body. It blossomed through his eyes and traveled down his spine. Then, as easily as the pain began it ebbed and he rolled over unto his back as the air slid into his lungs.
He was not as good in nonverbal magic as Lily was. He didn’t have her skill with controlling emotion yet alone focusing while he was scared or angry. He was trembling again, his blood was pounding in his head. Both his hands were rebelling, turning to putty as he tried to push himself up and see what had happened.
Tobias was flat on his butt, with a look of bewilderment on his sallow face. He was staring at his son, wide-eyed. His son used magic on him? It had never been done before. For a long time, Severus was only aware of the dark eyes on him, and then the anger that gleamed from behind his expressionless gaze. “Get over here you…”
“Don’t you touch me!” Severus screamed suddenly. His hand somehow found his wand, and suddenly, just like that. He saw it leveled on Tobias’ chest. Someone else’s voice was screaming through the darkness. “Don’t you ever touch me. Don’t you ever fucking touch me again like that, do you understand?”
Tobias stopped midway on the recovery. He was staring up at Severus, on a knee. He had one hand up in front of his face, and the one balancing him on the floor. There was fear in those black eyes. “Severus…Severus…please.”
“Don’t you fucking beg, now!” Severus shouted once more, his wand was trembling in his hand. A thousand curses were running through this head, sniping at his tongue, trying to push past his teeth. The nausea in his stomach was rising too, and made him want to double over. He felt like there was a serpent in his stomach that had coiled, grown fat and was now trying to tear past his flesh to release itself. He felt like he was dying.
Tobias was staring up at him. The anger was replaced. Distant. His left arm was burning. Severus…
Severus trembled. In his chest, pounding where his heart should have been were a hundred different feelings that drove him wild and scared. Outside, the air was crisp. Empty. Even if it gave no sign of it, Severus could feel the storm rumbling. It would break at any moment. He was drowning. He was dying. He was.
“Get. Out.” Severus hissed. He wanted to use his curse. He wanted to use the hundred others. He wanted to see his father on the floor, writhing and screaming. He wanted him to hurt. As much as he was hurting. Instead, Severus was yelling. “GET OUT! I don’t ever want to see you again, do you hear me?! The next time I see you…the next time you ever speak to me…I’ll kill you!”
“Se…”
“DON’T.” Severus screamed. “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.”
The storm was breaking. Severus could feel it. It was getting bad. It would get worst. A lot worst. But for now, here, Severus was staring down his father and saving his life. “Get the hell out…leave. I don’t want to see you again. I don’t ever want to see you again. If I do, you’ll wish I killed you here! Get out!”
Tobias rose slowly, eyes staring on the stick of wood that separated them. He was breathing hard, his large chest rising and sinking. He looked at him once more, from the crown of Severus head to his very edge of his feet and then back to his face. He looked like he was trying to speak again but something took his voice and he favored his boy with more searching expression before backing away from him.
It takes ten minutes after Tobias walks through the door before Severus is able to fall to his knees, dropping the wand and pushing his knees to his chest. He can’t see out of his eye. His stomach turns and rebels. He tries not to move. He tries to make himself small enough so he doesn’t have to feel anything. He is shaking now and the anger in his skull hasn’t broken free. Its just there, nestled and breaking bones.
He finally moves after several long gasps push enough oxygen into his veins so he can pretend to think. Gingerly, so not to upset his vertigo anymore then needed, he rolls up his shirtsleeve. There on his skin, raw and bleeding from newness and aggravation, is a brand that hadn’t been there this morning.
The Snake and skull gleam back up at him, waiting. Hungry.
He feels his stomach twist again. He feels sick. He feels like he’s drowning and comforted by the brand, he pushes his arm closer to his chest, like it’s a talisman that can keep the monsters at bay.
And for a moment, if only for a moment, it does.
Title: Hurt/Comfort
Author:
Rating: PG-13 for domestic violence and profanity.
Word Count: 1,678
Prompt: We choose our own paths...this one is mine. - Crichton, Farscape "Fractures"
Disclaimer: Violence towards children behind the cut. Colorful language was well. Half-inspired by canon, and the other half by various RPs. I’m not entirely pleased with Tobias portrayal, just because I don’t like to absolve characters of their sins by saying “they’ve had a hard life” That being said, it works for this piece. Read and review, please?
Cross posted to
10_inspirations
Tobias Snape was smoking when Severus walked into the house. Despite himself, he was aware of the way his muscles tensed in his shoulders. He felt his shoulders roll back, and stoop all at once. He stopped inside the door, and stared at his father for several moments, not thinking to move. His body always got like that when his brain became aware of his father: it was a slight change in the air: somehow it became colder. His muscles in his arms tightened against trembling. His jaw set. He was aware he was slouching again, curling into the doorframe but he was unaware of it was because of the dizziness and nausea in his stomach or fear of his father.
Tobias lifted his beetle black eyes towards his son, and replaced the cigarette to his lips as he rose. “Where were ya, boy?”
“Out.”
“Don’t get smart with me, boy.” Tobias hissed. He was chewing on his cigarette end. The red ember glowed in the fading light. “Where you been?”
“…Out.” The room was spinning out of control now. Severus wanted to lie down. The pain in his left forearm was creeping up his arm and into his shoulder blade. He tasted iron in his mouth. He wanted the room to stop moving. “M’back before curfew.”
“You getting smart with me.” Tobias warned. One massive paw of a hand reached out and tapped Severus’ head a little too roughly to be entirely innocent. It didn’t hurt but the first ones rarely did. The cigarette gleamed once more. Tobias exhaled the gray-white smoke over Severus’ head.
Back when Lee was still around, Severus usually took this chance to ask him to put the cigarette out. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t. In truth, it was usually just the next step in what would escalate to pain and lots of it. Tobias liked the game, Severus thought sometimes, and Severus didn’t quite know anything else. As it was, the bitter smell reached Severus’ nostrils and crept up into his brain, intermingling from the pain. Severus felt his stomach rise threateningly to the back of his throat.
Severus instead pulled away from that, and forced himself to watch his father’s hand. There were stains on his fingertips from the tobacco. His hands shook. They always shook. Lee said it was the war. He thought it was the drink. It didn’t really matter.
In Severus head, he created Lee to get up and walk slowly out of the room, just like Eileen always did when Tobias approached Severus like he had now. It made it more real. Severus stifled the sneer on his lips. Tobias caught it anyways. “You eyeing me now too…”
“No…”
“Disrespectful little shit…” And the first blow came then, hard into Severus chest. He slammed against the shelf of books nearest to him, his skull rattling against the leather tomes. The smells of ink, paper, smoke and pain filled his senses. He didn’t cry out. He rarely did in the beginning.
He felt the weight of Tobias crushing his ribs. “Say something, kid! Say something!” Any response Severus was choked by the second shot to his ribs by Tobias elbow. Severus was choking now, from the vertigo and then from the hit. He could feel the tears stinging his eyes. He hated crying, and he did it every time even though he was more angry then hurt. Why did he cry? It didn’t do anything except make his head hurt more.
He screamed as Tobias twirled him then, yanking him forward by the arm, twisting it hard against his back. His wrist popped, making him cry out again and he became aware of his father’s knee dragged hard into his spine as he hit the floor, and was pinned.
“Stay down.” Tobias was saying. “Stay down, you little punk and listen to me! I don’t know what you’re doing but I don’t like it! I don’t give a shit what your little friends are into, my kid isn’t going to be some dumb ass little shit. Do ya hear me?! I’m not going to let my kid be some fucking…”
Severus felt like his skull was going to break open. He pushed his wrists under him, and tried to push free. He felt his wrist give on him, and his left arm melt from under him. He choked again, on the tears.
“Little shit, what you think you’re better then me? Think I don’t know what I’m saying? Shit, you’re just like your mother, you little bastard. Look at you…you think some fucking tough guy. I’ll show you tough…don’t you ever fucking eyeball me again, boy! You sick pathetic…” Tobias tirade died down, as he plucked the cigarette from his lips. Severus began to writhe under him. “Yeah, you bastard, you know this…teach you to mind me…”
Severus wasn’t aware of what was happening. Not yet. He wouldn’t for another couple of days when the pale purple welt began to form under his eye. He was aware of the simple, easy pain. It wasn’t the most he had ever felt, not by far, but it crawled through his body. It blossomed through his eyes and traveled down his spine. Then, as easily as the pain began it ebbed and he rolled over unto his back as the air slid into his lungs.
He was not as good in nonverbal magic as Lily was. He didn’t have her skill with controlling emotion yet alone focusing while he was scared or angry. He was trembling again, his blood was pounding in his head. Both his hands were rebelling, turning to putty as he tried to push himself up and see what had happened.
Tobias was flat on his butt, with a look of bewilderment on his sallow face. He was staring at his son, wide-eyed. His son used magic on him? It had never been done before. For a long time, Severus was only aware of the dark eyes on him, and then the anger that gleamed from behind his expressionless gaze. “Get over here you…”
“Don’t you touch me!” Severus screamed suddenly. His hand somehow found his wand, and suddenly, just like that. He saw it leveled on Tobias’ chest. Someone else’s voice was screaming through the darkness. “Don’t you ever touch me. Don’t you ever fucking touch me again like that, do you understand?”
Tobias stopped midway on the recovery. He was staring up at Severus, on a knee. He had one hand up in front of his face, and the one balancing him on the floor. There was fear in those black eyes. “Severus…Severus…please.”
“Don’t you fucking beg, now!” Severus shouted once more, his wand was trembling in his hand. A thousand curses were running through this head, sniping at his tongue, trying to push past his teeth. The nausea in his stomach was rising too, and made him want to double over. He felt like there was a serpent in his stomach that had coiled, grown fat and was now trying to tear past his flesh to release itself. He felt like he was dying.
Tobias was staring up at him. The anger was replaced. Distant. His left arm was burning. Severus…
Severus trembled. In his chest, pounding where his heart should have been were a hundred different feelings that drove him wild and scared. Outside, the air was crisp. Empty. Even if it gave no sign of it, Severus could feel the storm rumbling. It would break at any moment. He was drowning. He was dying. He was.
“Get. Out.” Severus hissed. He wanted to use his curse. He wanted to use the hundred others. He wanted to see his father on the floor, writhing and screaming. He wanted him to hurt. As much as he was hurting. Instead, Severus was yelling. “GET OUT! I don’t ever want to see you again, do you hear me?! The next time I see you…the next time you ever speak to me…I’ll kill you!”
“Se…”
“DON’T.” Severus screamed. “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.”
The storm was breaking. Severus could feel it. It was getting bad. It would get worst. A lot worst. But for now, here, Severus was staring down his father and saving his life. “Get the hell out…leave. I don’t want to see you again. I don’t ever want to see you again. If I do, you’ll wish I killed you here! Get out!”
Tobias rose slowly, eyes staring on the stick of wood that separated them. He was breathing hard, his large chest rising and sinking. He looked at him once more, from the crown of Severus head to his very edge of his feet and then back to his face. He looked like he was trying to speak again but something took his voice and he favored his boy with more searching expression before backing away from him.
It takes ten minutes after Tobias walks through the door before Severus is able to fall to his knees, dropping the wand and pushing his knees to his chest. He can’t see out of his eye. His stomach turns and rebels. He tries not to move. He tries to make himself small enough so he doesn’t have to feel anything. He is shaking now and the anger in his skull hasn’t broken free. Its just there, nestled and breaking bones.
He finally moves after several long gasps push enough oxygen into his veins so he can pretend to think. Gingerly, so not to upset his vertigo anymore then needed, he rolls up his shirtsleeve. There on his skin, raw and bleeding from newness and aggravation, is a brand that hadn’t been there this morning.
The Snake and skull gleam back up at him, waiting. Hungry.
He feels his stomach twist again. He feels sick. He feels like he’s drowning and comforted by the brand, he pushes his arm closer to his chest, like it’s a talisman that can keep the monsters at bay.
And for a moment, if only for a moment, it does.