dyingforakiss (dyingforakiss) wrote in snark_n_bark, @ 2008-05-04 20:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | barty, complete |
When will this loneliness be over?
Characters: Barty
Summary: Barty decides to protect his friends from himself.
The kitchen floor was littered with shards of glass, the remnants of dishes piled in the opposite corner of the room from where Barty huddled. Buried amongst the glittering debris was the mask, whole and unaffected by Barty's attempts to destroy it.
The acoustics of the tiles echoed Barty's pitiful sobs, mocking him for his weakness, for his failure to get rid of the mask, for his inability to protect his friend from himself. He buried his face in his hands, crying harder as he remembered how scared Debi had been.
He hadn't dared go anywhere near St Mungo's despite his desperation to know that she was all right. For all he knew, he had killed her. He hoped the spirit that had stopped him, that had given him the chance to get a hold of himself and leave had got her safely to medical care, but what if - ?
"No," he moaned. "Please, no."
It was a while before he was able to calm himself, and even when he had and raised his head he caught sight of the mask again, making him shake violently in his revulsion of himself.
The mask had been on the coffee table when he had woken from where he had collapsed on the living room sofa. He had tried everything he could to get rid of it, for the first time envying the destructive power his other side possessed. He stared at the mask, its two halves, his two selves: one dark and threatening, the other light but despairing, both tainted by murder and violence.
He wished that Bella had never resurrected him, and in that both sides of him were united, though for differing reasons. It had been his complete hatred of Bella that had conjured the mask in the first place, both Hedera's and his own soul agreeing that any plot of her should be ended. As his trembling fingers touched where she had carved her initials into his flesh, he was aware of the seething anger deep inside that his friend of old had dared to mark him, that his playmate had been responsible for implanting an alien soul inside of him. Both parts of him hated her, but for now Barty's greatest concern was his fear of what he might do next time his control slipped.
Dragging his eyes away from the mask, Barty began pushing himself up. He needed a hot shower to calm his nerves, and he couldn't remember the last meal he had eaten... He felt another sharp pang of guilt when he did recall tea and cakes with Padma and Debi in the book shop. Debi...
He had barely straightened up when a sudden pain in his arm made him double over again, a shocked cry breaking from his lips. It was a familiar pain and as he began shaking his head in denial, the anger inside pushed triumphantly against him.
"No!" he gasped. "No, no, no..."
The pain passed and he was left with only a tingling awareness. He wrenched up his sleeve, ripping it as he did so. A broken noise echoed through the kitchen when he saw the raised mark on his arm.
"How? How can he be - ?"
He slumped to the floor again. Inside his stomach roiled, and there was a roaring in his ears as one soul pushed against another. His vision swam, the mask leering at him, the green mark a copy of the black one raised on his flesh. He put out a hand to steady himself, and jerked back as a piece of glass cut his palm and brought him sharply back into focus.
If the Dark Lord really was returning, if that was why his soul was free and trying to reclaim him, he couldn't risk hurting a friend again. While he only really had Padma and Debi, he knew that there were other innocents like them that as a Death Eater he would harm. He had killed Muggleborns under Bella's say so, if the Dark Lord returned he had no chance of breaking free of his past's hold. He needed to protect them. Protect them like he had been unable to protect Debi.
Snatching up a large shard, Barty slashed at his forearm, calling forth some of his magic to make sure the cut went deep, trying to cut out the Dark Mark. He knew he wouldn't be able to, but at least he could stop himself from hurting anyone else.
He dropped the bloodied glass, and let out a rattling sigh. At least this way, he might finally know proper peace...