Fabian wants destruction and rampage. (revelations_) wrote in an_ill_wind, @ 2009-08-14 16:25:00 |
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Fabian had never had to interrogate anyone before. This was going to be an entirely new experience, really. Narcissa didn't count. She'd spilled everything without hardly any effort. This, Fabian suspected, was going to involve more than a bit of veritaserum. He lingered in the kitchen of the safehouse for several minutes, going over the questions that had to be asked. Alone would be better. Alone, no one was going to stop him. It had to be done. And Fabian rather doubted anyone would else would volunteer for the job. He finished his sandwich, took a long drink of water and then stared at the door to the basement. Now or never, he supposed. They needed answers. Gideon was sitting in the dining room that branched away from the kitchen but he could still see his brother and he recognized that look. He wondered if he should just stand down and let Fabian loose. Rabastan was a Death Eater, brother of a corrupt and evil man, and he deserved everything that Fabian might be planning. Gideon was rising from his chair before he even had a chance to counter his thoughts. He knew what his twin was capable of, especially when it came to the Lestranges, and Gideon could not let anything happen. He appeared alongside his brother like a mirrored image and he gave him an all too familiar look. "You are not doing whatever it is you're planning alone." Fabian frowned. There were just some things he didn't like. Being told no was near the top of the list. Of course, Gideon hadn't really told him no. He was just insisting on playing referee. He was silent for another moment, idly brushing his fingers through his hair. Finally, he turned his attention properly to his brother. "We do what we have to to get answers, yeah?" he said softly, raising his eyebrows in earnest. "Don't stop me." It was kill or be killed, or in this instance torture. That was what Gideon would be agreeing to, after all. Fabian always had flair for the dramatics but Gideon knew that it was not all just show. His brother had no problem pushing the limits to do what he had to do and it was Gideon's job to tug the reins if Fabian crossed a line. He would never let his brother go far enough that he could not come back. "You know how this works, Fabian. I know your limits even when you don't. He may be a Death Eater but I will not let you compromise yourself for a handful of answers that might be rubbish in the end." He sighed and then gave a hesitant nod. "You have my word." Fabian nodded. If anyone else had to be in the room, then there was no one else he'd rather it be. There was no one that knew him better, not even Ed. And it was no great secret that Fabian often didn't know when he'd crossed a line. So perhaps this was better. He trusted Gideon not to stop him unless it, for some reason, became necessary. "All right, here we are then," he said, taking a deep breath as he stood. Down the basement. It was dark in here, for a reason. Completely blacked out, but for the three or four light bulbs in the ceiling. Fabian eyed the form of Rabastan, still tied to the chair. Food and water both withheld. It was designed to be uncomfortable, to wear away at your resolve. Both of them through the door, he locked it behind him, keeping everyone else out. He wasn't going to risk anyone else coming through. No interruptions. "Good morning, little Rabbit," he lied, carefully rolling his sleeves up. It was afternoon. But it wasn't as if you could tell from the basement. They'd blacked out the windows. Rabastan had already resigned himself to the fact that he would receive a rude awakening at some eventuality. Always a light sleeper, he woke to the sound of the door being locked. No idea where he was but in some bloody cellar. Thankfully no rats had shown up yet. Rabbit hated rats, always had, and that would make him squirm a hell of a lot more than some punishments the Order might use on him. Straightening in his chair to face the newcomers, he replied with sarcam-laden words, "So I rate high enough to score both you boys as interrogators. Wouldn't your old head McGonagall be proud of you now?" Damn, even that small movement to speak hurt his chest. One or two of his ribs seemed bruised thanks to the tussle upon his arrival. Besides that he knew for a fact that blood had dried on his face as well as a knuckle that he had split open earlier. The smallest of smirks pulled at Fabian's lips. "Oh yes, only the best of the best for the spare Lestrange," he drawled, securing his second sleeve just below his elbow and then crossing both arms across his chest. He was standing in front of the chair now, observing the handiwork. Rabastan was bound directly to the chair, ankles and all. It was a security matter to the safehouse after all. They couldn't have him running around. "We do have some questions for you, then yes," he said finally, pulling a small vial of clear liquid out of his pocket. This would be the part where it would at least be useful to have someone else down here. "Gideon, do me a favour and hold his head back, will you?" Gideon didn't say anything in response to Rabastan, nor did he verbally answer his brother. He crossed the room and moved so he was standing behind their hostage and he gave Fabian a small nod. He bit his lip and wrapped his left arm around Rabastan's forehead in a sort of headlock and he placed his other hand roughly on the man's jaw. He used his right hand to squeeze his cheeks and open his mouth just enough that Fabian could give him the potion, hoping that he would have to wrestle the larger man too much. Rabbit hated being out of control of his actions. Fucking bastard had his head in what felt like a bloody vise. He didn't have a chance of getting out of this one without giving away some information. When the veritaserum entered his mouth, he propelled his tongue outward which forced half of the liquid onto his shirt. Unfortunately the other half made its way down his throat. Smirking at Fabian, the only one he could see at the moment, he hissed, "So what the fuck do you want to know, you bloodtraitor?" Half was more than enough, considering how powerful veritserum was. He nodded for Gideon to take a few steps back and then kept his place, just a step back from Rabastan. He didn't have the patience to do much testing, and really, he had enough confidence in Emmeline's abilities as a potion maker to not be very bothered with the issue of the potion's effectiveness. He took a steadying breath, if only to remind himself that he wasn't going to do anything too rash until it was called for. So. Questions. "Fenrir Greyback and his new merry band of cohorts," he started. "Is he affiliated with you death eaters?" Now that his head was free of that restraint, he cracked his neck and blinked as he felt a strange sensation flooding over his senses. Almost like he wasn't quite in control of what he was about to say. He grimaced as he considered what exactly he thought of Greyback's involvement and his decision to attack purebloods, even if they were bloodtraitors. Rabastan found it morally questionable in his mind at best considering that these creepy monsters ran around and did inhuman things to their prey before turning them or just plain eating them. Godric, this was so fucked up. His mouth started moving even though he tried to no avail to stop it. Felt like he was under the Imperius curse again as an nine-year-old kid when his father had cast the spell on him to build up his threshold. "Yeah, he is part of our group," Rabastan admitted with warning bells going off in his mind. The Dark Lord was gonna kill him and Rabbit knew that He had an excellent reason to do just that. This had never been his goal - to get caught, that is - but his lips opened again, "Greyback is something of a shadow among the Death Eaters. He's not really one of us per se but he definitely supports the Dark Lord. From what I can gather, the Dark Lord must have promised him something when we finally defeat your lot. Not sure exactly what though. It probably has something to do with no regulations on magical creatures or something...but that's all conjecture. The ranks don't know much about the Dark Army. I think it's probably all shared between Greyback and the Dark Lord and maybe my brother." Check, then. The bottom dropped out of Fabian's stomach. So then, he supposed, that the attack on the Weasley's wasn't random. That it, in fact, was likely his fault. His thoughts flashed to Percy, alone with only Fenrir Greyback for company, and his fists tightened compulsively. Fabian avoided looking at his brother. Not now though. Question answers, time for another one. Dorcas. Right. "Right. Who attacked Dorcas Meadowes in her flat in April?" he asked as calmly as he could manage. Simple questions were best. There wouldn't be any room to wiggle around them and give half-answers. With enough presence of mind intact, Rabastan mentally noted not to push on the Weasley issue. Hell, that decision to attack their place had raised red flags in his mind so he definitely was not about to insult the Prewett brothers about that. While he might be a Death Eater, he was not an insensitive bloke when it came to the importance of family. If he had been in a joking mood when Fabian mentioned the Meadowes attack, he would have started laughing at the ability to throw his biggest rival among the Death Eaters under the fucking train. He couldn't stop the instant smirk though that came to his lips, "It was Leoben Yaxley. He failed his mission as all of us know." This might be worth its weight in gold yet. If only Prewett would keep asking questions like this, Rabastan might actually enjoy his time in captivity. Fabian noted the identity, idly remembering that they'd gone to school with Mr Yaxley. And he'd nearly killed her and Sirius and had sent her all those body parts and was the sole reason Dorcas had nearly died. It was a struggle to keep himself under control enough to ask his next question. More ambiguous, but possibly the most important. "What are you planning? Who are you attacking next? Any big plans?" For once, Rabastan was puzzled at how he should respond. Not like it actually mattered since he wasn't in control of his answers but if he had been minus the truth serum in his blood stream, would he have made something up or just told the truth? After delaying a few seconds longer than normal, he coughed and wished he could clutch his rib. It pained him every time he moved and he whispered at the realization that by talking quieter maybe his chest wouldn't hurt so bad, "I have not been made aware of any attacks in the future. The ranks do not learn about this stuff unless they are specifically included. So I suppose the Dark Lord must have preferred me to be sitting on the sidelines if and when we have another attack." "Wrong answer," Fabian growled. Somewhere in his head, it occurred to him that it was physically impossible for Rabastan to lie to him right now. It was overridden however, by a flare of his temper and the realisation that this man supported a cause that hired thugs like Fenrir Greyback to do their dirty work. That they went after his best friends with no provocation. That they destroyed people's lives over antiquated ideas and rituals. That they thought they were better than him. His fist connected solidly with Rabastan's jaw, sending a certain amount of pain through his own hand. There was something to be said for punching someone. Mostly, you forgot that it was bone against bone. And again and again, once glancing off his nose. "What are you planning?" he demanded again, the fingers of his left hand tangled in Rabastan's hair to keep him still. "You have to be planning something." Rabastan saw the hand sweeping towards his face but his reaction time was quite slow with the serum in his system not to mention his lack of nutrients in his body. His thoughts about being hungry went out as Fabian's fist slammed into his jaw sending his face around to the other side. Pain erupted through his nerves. Fuck, this was not how he had planned to have his day go. With any luck, he'd have been owling the Dark Lord to share the information he had learned from Prewett at lunch. What a difference a few hours could make. As he tried to blink the red out of his eyes, another punch landed below his right eye and yet another by his ear. Fucking hell, Prewett was killing him the slow way. "Damn you, if you want to have through with me, just cast the fucking Avada Kedavra, you prick. That's if you think you're man enough. Personally I always thought you were but your choice of allies leads me to question my initial profile of you. Why pick the Order when you can have so much fun with the Death Eaters? We actually blow things up and make people pay, you dolt. Oh, and by the way, I cannot lie under this stuff. I have no fucking clue what the Dark Lord or my brother are planning." With those words, he spit a bloody mixture at Fabian's face. He found himself hoping that there was not a tooth in there. Fabian's blood was boiling. A wet, warm mixture of gross splattered over his cheek and dangerous close to his eye. He let go and took a step back, instinctually repulsed by the display. So much for the Lestrange's precious blood. He hurriedly wiped his face off with the collar of his shirt... and then reached immediately for his wand. It was quick, purposeful. A nerve had been hit. He would show Rabastan fucking Lestrange that he could make people pay without being a purist fuck. With barely a flick, he broke the sticking charm that had thus far, been holding the chair in place and with another violent sweep, sent both the piece of furniture and the man in it crashing across the room, into the wall and then toppling to the floor, leaving him still stuck in the upended chair. Another stab of his wand re-tightened the ropes, designed to keep him bound almost cruelly tight to the chair. He didn't really know what caused him to say it. Perhaps it was only that he couldn't think of anything worse for Rabastan. There was nothing more he wanted to do than to show him the pain he'd kept tucked away, pretended wasn't there. They tore families apart. Fabian promised himself that he could do so much worse. He stood over his prisoner, wand pointed directly at his chest. "Crucio." A small sense of accomplishment rose in his gut as the blood met Prewett's cheek. Following Fabian's movements, he realized he had struck a nerve. Thank Merlin, the guy wasn't a total ponce. A rush of near-wind blew towards him and the chair rushed into the wall where the chair remained unscathed but his arm took the force of the blow and he felt it shatter. Rabastan yelled at the top of his lungs, "FUCK!" He was so screwed and he had no chance of defending himself. His automatic response was to fight fire with fire and if that option was unavailable, make up a few pointed insults, "Son of a bitch, you must like the power inherent in attacking a wandless person, eh? Does that make you feel like one of us? Like maybe this is your rite of passage...your coming of age into a more violent..." Just then the chair upended and he was left hanging downward with the weight of his body on his broken arm, he attempted to shift but it was no use. He hadn't cried since he was six years old but oh fuck, this hurt like nothing ever had and any more of this and he would be crying. Anyone would in his case but that was no comfort for now. The ropes tightened up, which thankfully allowed him to take a bit of his weight off his useless arm. In the next moment, it all changed. His world turned to endless pain and he yelled and screamed and agonized in the onset of the Cruciatus curse. Gods, he hated this one. He always had. His father thought he could build up a tolerance but that was fucking impossible as far as Rabastan was concerned. His head felt like it would explode and his initial reaction was to try to move away from the curse. Of course, that did not work but he did achieve tipping the chair onto its side. Unfortunately, it wasn't an accomplishment because now he cringed and shouted from the floor. At least he wasn't upside down now but the agony was out of this world. "What...do yeh...fucking want...Prewett? Besides...torturing me some...more." Fabian had silently ordered Gideon to step back and so he did. He didn't want to ask the man any questions of his own because he was honestly afraid of the answers he would recieve. His brother didn't seem to falter and soon the questions started. Gideon crossed his arms over his chest and listened to confirmation about Greyback and the identity of Dorcas's attacker. He wasn't surprised by the fact that Rabastan was ignorant to future plans. Most times the Order didn't things until moments before they happened. The older Prewett was unsatisfied with the answer and Gideon flinched when Fabian's fist connected with Rabastan's nose. The action was repeated and then the chair left the floor and crashed into the wall, Death Eater included, and Gideon used all his self-control to keep from stepping in. This was the way it had to be, he told himself. This was proper. In seconds it all changed. A familiar curse echoed through the basement in the sound of Fabian's voice and Gideon felt his blood run cold. That Fabian had attempted the Cruciatus was one thing but he had succeeded and Gideon felt his stomach turn. Things had come full circle and as Rabastan screamed, Gideon did as well. He pushed away from the wall and he grabbed a fistful of his brother's shirt, trying to tug his brother's attention away from the Death Eater on the floor. "Stop!" Fabian was absorbed in the curse. Did they feel like this all the time? It was power and anger and rage, all coursing through his body, such an intense mixture of emotions that Fabian didn't actually want to stop. He wasn't even paying attention to what Rabastan was saying between shouts and screams. It didn't matter. Nothing but the pure anger and hate he felt for this man and everything he stood for mattered, and in a second, the curse intensified ten-fold. And then he was being pulled away. In the mists that were his brain, Gideon's voice broke through, the force of him tearing at his shirt. The curse broke and Fabian lowered his wand. His blood was pumping harder than ever, and he glowered, glared at Rabastan, still bound to the chair. One deep breath. "Ask him about Hogsmeade, Gideon," Fabian said slowly, keeping his wand held passively at his side. Gideon considered ignoring his brother's request but instead he pulled out his own wand and he carefully placed the chair on all four legs. He didn't loosen the ropes. He was standing just a few steps behind Fabian and he watched Rabastan carefully for a moment before he spoke. "Who attacked James Potter and injured his arm at Hogsmeade?" He waited a quick moment and then asked another question before there was time to answer the first. "Who duelled against Lily Potter and Alice Longbottom?" Cringing on the floor in agony, Rabastan had been closing his eyes trying to ward off the pain and had been failing miserably. Suddenly, the Cruciatus curse ceased and he slumped against the ground trying to catch his breath. Merlin, that hurt like no other. His head still pounded and the ringing in his ears seemed only a little further away. The broken ribs screamed at him in his awkward position and his arm throbbed. Rabastan hoped someday to be able to return the favor on this prick with which he had gone to school. He had never hated many people in life but Fabian Prewett was firmly at the top of his list now. Funny to think he had actually put aside all rational thought and accepted his assurances yesterday even if he had not believed them. So much for the Order being made of decent people. What a joke. As the chair straightened up, Rabastan gazed up with his head before dropping it again. Figured that Gideon would be the one to stop it. He always had been a more considerate bloke if such a thing actually existed in the Gryffindor ranks. Thinking to himself as Gideon began his own questioning, Rabastan sighed in resignation at the second round to which he would be exposed. He decided not to attempt to antagonize this brother. Rabastan likely would not escape this day alive if he sent Gideon Prewett over the edge. There would be no one to stop them from killing him. He really did not want to die before spending another moment with Italy to tell her how much he loved her and hoped to spend the rest of his life with her. Bloody hell, it was ironic how situations like these helped a bloke realize such things. Squinting through his bloodied eyelids, Rabastan choked back blood that had arisen in his throat. "Potter? Yaxley, the same Death Eater I mentioned before, injured your boy's arm." The only good thing about this was how frequently Ben's name had arisen. Maybe he would find some people gunning for him in the future. Couldn't happen to a better Death Eater as far as Rabastan was concerned. Well, maybe Bellatrix too...but she was untouchable. As for the second question, he tried to hesitate to answer the question. Rosalind, far and away, was his closest cousin. Sure she was two years ahead of him but he trusted her and hoped that she could have said the same regardless of what she must think of him now. "Potter and that Auror Longbottom were attacked by our Auror in the Ministry - Rosalind Jugson....well actually Rosalind Rookwood now. As you already know she married Augustus Rookwood a short time ago. I know for a fact that Fabian knows about that what with his little Devil's Snare that he sent them as a wedding gift that made short work of their Squib servant." Fabian watched with a general sense of disinterest. At this point, he was only interested in the answers, of which, he was taking note of in his head. Yaxley. Jugson. Good. At the mention of his gift though, Fabian decided he didn't really want to look at Gideon. A snide remark was on the tip of his tongue, he only bit it back because he had an itching feeling Gideon was already going to be on him about one thing that had already taken place in this interrogation today. And so, in a highly uncharacteristic manoeuvre, Fabian ignored the comment and pushed on. Last question, at least for now. "Do you know anything about horcruxes?" he asked quietly, nearly on the opposite side of the basement, small as it was. The room though, seemed very quiet now, since Rabastan had stopped screaming. He suddenly felt very little need to raise his voice. Rabbit raised an eyebrow, well he tried to but the caked blood on his forehead and around his eyelids made that near impossible, and whispered, "Horcruxes?" Why the hell would a Prewett be asking him about something that Dark Arts that you could only find a completely worthless definition in Magick Moste Evile. He did not even want to consider why anyone in this day and age would be doing anything with horcruxes. The things sounded creepy in Rabbit's imagination alone and he had never even looked for a book on the topic. "Yeah, I know what they are. Only the darkest wizards..." He hesitated and his heart sank. He just knew where this conversation was going to go. Trying to salvage his answer before he could gave away his thought process, he picked up where he had left off, "...make these things. It's the most foolproof way to attain immortality because what they do is they basically divide their soul into fragments." From what he had heard in the past, these things made you seriously unbalanced. Right, well then. Fabian paused a moment to consider their options. So Rabastan at least knew what they were. And Stu was going to obliviate him anyway, so it didn't really matter what he asked him. He took a few steps closer, stopping next to his brother and again crossing his arms over his chest. Purposely though, he kept his wand visible. He didn't know for sure if he could cast it again. But he wasn't sure he coudn't either. For now, he just let it be a reminder. "And what about your Lord, then?" he prompted. "Are you aware that he's been creating them?" Rabastan smirked at Fabian mirthlessly. If this was true, well he didn't know if it was true. For all he knew Prewett could be lying to him. Probably was actually, trying to get a rise out of him. Shaking his head in a dismissive fashion, he responded, "Right, because I would just believe you why? Hell, you're not trustworthy at all. I spent my last bit of misplaced faith in you going to lunch with you and look where that landed me. Needless to say, I doubt it very much that the Dark Lord would ever do something stupid like that. As if he needs a way to stay immortal, the way the Order has been folding recently under the weight of the Ministry. If anything you folks are probably looking into horcruxes for when you start losing people. That way you'll never die or at least you shouldn't if you do it right." Fabian rolled his eyes. "Right, because for a man obsessed with power it isn't exactly the sort of thing he'd do." He sighed, idly running a hand through his hair. That was that though. He was out of questions, at least for the moment. He had to inform the Order and... and wash his hands. He shoved his wand away and left Rabastan where he was. Maybe he'd feed him tomorrow. Water tonight, maybe. If he remembered. "We're done," he said, with some sense of finality, and the tugged gently on Gideon's sleeve. Gideon was listening to each side of the conversation but he wasn't sure how much of it he was actually taking in. He'd had his fill of horcruxes and unforgivables so when Fabian tugged his arm he was more than willing to follow his brother's lead. Gideon didn't even bother looking back at Rabastan as he left the room. He just let the door close quietly behind him as he walked up the stairs behind his brother, fully prepared to not talk about anything that had just happened. Watching the Prewetts leave the room, Rabastan softly exhaled and thanked his lucky stars for that horrid session finally ending. He wished for a drink to clean out his bloody mouth but he knew none would be coming. All the action of the last few hours had made him quite drowsy and suddenly he dropped off to sleep hoping beyond reason that rescue was coming soon. |