[LOG] Matthew's Uncle Nicholas is the COOLEST HEALER EVAR! Who: Nicholas, Frederick, and Matthew Selwyn What: Frederick is SO DAMNED SICK that he's hired his BROTHER ON to heal him...! When: 19th April 1982 (BACKDATED) Where: The Selwyn household in West Sussex-- specifically, Frederick's bedroom Rating: PG-13 for language, some distur trigger warning for talk of incest and child abuse.
Matthew kissed his father's forehead, gingerly, almost as if he were afraid of breaking him. "Goodbye, papa," he murmured, and then, with a final nod to his Uncle Nicholas-- who was so good as to come back to England to look after his brother, he walked out the door, no doubt about to take a Floo port to work.
He nodded in return to Matthew and watched his nephew leave. It was only at that point that Nicholas began to take the various potions and salves and ingredients and vessels out of his bag, laying them out a table before beginning to measure out what he intended on giving to his brother today. As he worked, he asked cordially, "And how are we doing today, Fredrick?"
Frederick moaned softly. “I... have a headache... like a big cramp in my brain... just... ohhhh.” He moaned again, now holding his head in his hands, and he peered piteously up at his half-brother through a gap in between his fingers. “Please, please give me something for this awful pain...!”
There was a flicker of some emotion in Nicholas' face, and he measured out an amount of a brown-orange powder into a miniature cauldron, where it caused the rest of the concoction to boil before settling into a strange gray-blue colour. He looked up, a slightly sympathetic expression on his face. "Then I have to bring you the terrible news that it means the potions I'm giving you are working. But I can make you something for the pain. How does your chest feel this morning?"
“My... chest?” Frederick repeated blankly, for quite a long moment not understanding that the good Healer was asking about his heart. Then, when he finally got it, he nodded slowly, and moaned again as his head gave him new pangs. “I... don't feel any worse than usual, at least! I mean, those potions of yours aren't the Healing wonder that I thought they might be...! That is to say... well, I don't feel any worse than usual, except for my damned head... So please, please hurry with your palliatives...!”
"How long has this been going on? Your headaches, I mean," said Nicholas, clearly a little bit surprised that Fredrick hadn't mentioned something about his chest. "Are they sporadic or constant?" He scrutinized the potions on the table for a moment before going back into his bag and quickly pulling out another flask. He poured it into the cauldron, where it steamed quickly and boiled down, forming a small ball of the substance which he plucked out of the cauldron with tweezers and set on a small tray.
“Oh... not long at all, really...!” Frederick whispered, as if it hurt to speak too loudly into his own ears. “I mean, just so long as... you've... been... here...” He started violently as he realised what that meant, in fact. “I mean... Nicholas, what are you doing to me? Your own brother...! What are you giving me!?” His voice raised slightly in both pitch and volume, and he seemed to have forgotten all about his headache.
"Well, no one said your condition could be cured in a day, Fredrick," Nicholas said, walking over to the bed and putting the tray on the night stand. "If I could give you Pepper-Up Potion and be done with it, I would, believe me. But if you must know," he listed the names of the potions and salves. He cast a quick cleaning charm on his hands and then tapped the glass on the night stand, filling it with water. He then laughed a little. "Terribly sorry to have unnerved you." He handed the tablet to Fredrick.
Frederick nodded weakly in response, though he moaned yet again, as the pain in his head overtook him once more. He laid back, helplessly. “Forgive me, mon frère, I am so ill... and confused by shadows...! I didn't mean to... make you out as some sort of... monster...!” He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision of the spots before it; he had shifted from sitting to lying down far too quickly for his heart's sake.
"It's no trouble at all," replied Nicholas, though he seemed to wince at being called mon frère. "But do take this," he proffered the tablet once more, "If nothing else it will reduce the pain." Or it wouldn't add to it, he supposed. In the short term.
“Th-thank you, Nicholas...” Frederick moaned out, weakly, before accepting the proffered tablet. “I don't know what I would have done... without you...!” Truthfully, he probably would have been better off without Nicholas – but then again, Nicholas would probably be better off without him, as well. And turnabout, as they say, is fair play...! He swallowed the pill – choking on it slightly, in fact, but he got it down all the same.
"It's no trouble, no trouble at all. You're paying me." He laughed before handing Fredrick one of the potions. "Now, this is the one that's probably been causing your headaches. I've decreased your dosage," a lie, "Which is par for the course at this stage. The course for it is only ten weeks, after all." He handed Fredrick the potion. "Don't sit up so quickly, now." Well, the pill he'd given his brother would make sure of that. "How's your appetite been? And your digestion?"
Frederick moaned still more as he tried to lift himself once more from his pillows. “I ... can't...! I can't... get up... Nicholas... mon frère, help me, please...!” But then he heard the Healer's question, and suddenly, he didn't want to be upright. “Oh... my appetite... is completely non-existent, as you should well know, considering who it is who's taking care of me while my poor son works himself to the bone...! Yes, right down to the bone; he's been rather thinner since... well...” He trailed off, and gulped hard at the memory of his daughter...
"Don't call me that," Nicholas said sharply, without quite thinking. He put the potion up to Fredrick's lips after he'd finished speaking, and then began his answer. "I suppose you are right. I do have Kinjala's notes, but I like to hear it from the horse's mouth. Habit. In any case, I'm not here every day." He continued after a pause. "But yes, he must work very hard, mustn't he? He's good man, your boy."
“...Sorry...?” Frederick apologised half-heartedly, as if he wasn't even sure exactly for what he was apologising. “I mean, brother, that...” He trailed off again, not sure just what he meant to say to his beloved half-brother, anymore. Perhaps the snapping of the other man had cleared away any such thoughts... “Well. Yes, indeed, he is. Just like you are, to take care of me, so...! I mean... really, frère, how could I have survived without you and... Matthew? I mean, since Di left us... well...” He sighed forlornly.
At this point, he'd given Fredrick the first potion and was now pouring the second into the water glass, where it settled on the surface before strands of it began to sink and dissipate. "It's no issues." Nicholas smiled impassively when his brother spoke of the help he was providing and handed Fredrick the cup once all the potion had mixed in. "Yes, it's a great shame I never met her," he said, before doubling back, "But your son...yes, he must work very hard indeed. I've not known him long, but he does seem to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders."
Frederick moaned softly as he took the glass from his brother – and then dropped it onto his lap; thankfully, though his hand dropped, the potion didn't spill out. He moaned again, even weaker now, and said, “No – I'm sorry, Nicky, but... I don't think I can swallow this.... I feel as if... I'm about to be ill...!” And indeed, he was sick, straight into the basin by his bedside – thankfully there for just such a purpose! “Ohhhh,” he moaned yet again. “Sorry, you were saying... about my boy, Matthew...?”
Quickly grabbing the glass back after his brother had finished vomiting, Nicholas nodded and said, "Well you can try it again before breakfast, I don't think will hurt much. Now," he took one of the salves off the tray and continued, "You put this on the inside of your wrist. Do you think you can do it, or shall I do it for you?" He looked up again at Fredrick. "Only that he does seem much more burdened than his years would suggest. But he does look very much like you, I must say."
“Yes, he does rather look like me, doesn't he? Though... I rather hope I wasn't so haggard looking at the age of twenty-seven...!” Frederick laughed a little, which turned into a coughing fit – albeit a weak one, considering the state of his heart and lungs just now. “...Sorry, frère, I just... ugh...!” He coughed again, weakly, trying to clear is throat. “I mean, really, Nicky, does he look as bad as all that? I mean, I don't think he sleeps very much, it's true – I constantly wake up to find him... checking in on me... in the middle of the night...! Can't you do anything for... my poor boy...?”
"No, you certainly weren't," muttered Nicholas darkly. He was now realizing that his brother was not going to pay attention to what he actually told him. Perhaps the potion was having its desired effect - on Frederick's mind, but nonetheless. He took his arm and began to rub the salve into the inside of his wrist. "This might make your arm tingle a bit. - He does," he said without looking up, "Tired, of course, but with a certain sadness and fear, I've noticed, something so thrown off kilter in him, perhaps. Like a man trapped." Nicholas looked up at the old man in the bed and smiled, though there was something ugly in his words. "Reminds me a bit of myself, I must say. Though I was younger than him when I was like that." If the pain in Frederick's arm hadn't started yet, it should have in a few seconds.
“Oh yes? A fear, you say? How do you – MEEEAAAN!” Frederick's voice raised considerably in both pitch and volume just then, as he cried out in pain. “TINGLING, Nicky? It's burning me! Oh dear MERLIN, MAKE IT STOP, PLEEEAAASE...!” He reached for his water glass again, as if hoping that pouring it out over the salve would wash it away – apparently forgetting that Nicky had added something to the water, as well!
Oh, that was not going to go well. For Frederick, at least. For the sake of professional ethics, he supposed, he went to work healing up the ensuing wound before it progressed. But he remained fairly calm, though it was clear he would have liked to yell what he practically whispered next. "You know exactly what fear I mean," he said, a sneer sliding across his face, "Or has it been so long that you've forgotten?" He then straightened up and said evenly, "I'll have to put more on now, you've just got to grin and bear it."
“....” Frederick stared in mute horror up at his brother – and, some might say, his ex-lover, although ex-victim was really closer to the mark. “You.... you still hold a grudge about that? I loved you, mon frère! I mean, I honestly loved you! So, so much, in fact... that I...” But whatever Frederick had done to his brother, he seemed unwilling to admit – even with that brother as the only witness!
And without any hesitation, Nicholas started again with the salve, and when he was done clamped his hand down on Frederick's arm, holding it in place. "You've got to keep it on long enough so it can get into your veins. It absorbs very quickly." But he almost let go of his brother when he heard what he said next, the best he could manage was a flabbergasted expression which turned to one of disgust. "Love?" he hissed, "Is that what you call love? You've always had a sick mind, Frederick, but even you couldn't be that deluded. But you'll answer me this," his grip tightened around his brother's wrist, "Did you replace me with Matthew? Don't play dumb, I've seen how he acts."
“WHAT?!” Frederick managed to sputter out, around his deep groans of pain – from his arm now, rather than his headache – which was long since forgotten, in fact!. “Ohhhhh, no, Nicky, no! Not Matthew – I would never have dune... such a thing... to Matthew! I mean, I'm certain he would have broken had I.... done to him... what I did to you....!” He grimaced in agony as the salve continued to sink into – nay, through, rather, his skin. “I mean, he's Catholic... Imagine what he would have told his priest about us... had I done... such a thing...! Oh GOD, Nicky, PLEEEAAASE – HAVE MERCY ON MEEEEE!” And he fell backwards just then, suddenly out of breath – completely winded, in fact, by his own screams.
"And that should have stopped him any?" spat Nicholas, "Tell his priest he might have, as if a Muggle could have done anything. But I know you, you kept me quiet and I'm sure that's not a talent you've lost." He smiled grimly when his brother screamed, sure the poison was doing its work. It would travel through his veins, to the rest of him. Nicholas laughed bitterly when his Fredrick begged for mercy. "When have you ever deserved it, frere?" He said the word like a curse. "Tell me the truth. You just never let him escape, did you?"
Frederick took a very long moment to respond to this accusation, struggling to catch his breath from the screaming – and then wailing again in his agony as soon as he had it back! “Please... Nicky... it is the truth...! I mean, I never... NEVER did such things to... my poor boy...! I mean, he already had enough... on his plate, between the... religious leanings, and... his own sister's... atrocious misbehaviour...! Please, Nickyyyy...!” He trailed off with another dying wail of pain.
Nicholas was silent for a moment, and then seemed to tacitly accept that his brother was telling the truth. "Swear it on father's grave then, do you?" he asked. "Yes, he told me he'd been given the task of caring for her as a child. Which strikes me as strange, considering they weren't too far apart in age, unlike us," he gave Fredrick a smile, seeming a little bit satisfied by his screaming, "But you always struck me as the sort of father who would lavish attention on his children, in your own monstrous way."
“I... swear it!” Frederick gasped out, weakly, before howling yet again. “PLEASE, Nicky! My HEART! IT HURTS SO MUCH...!” But his baby half-brother was clearly not about to show him any mercy at all, and so he finally choked off his cries by holding his mouth shut with his hands. “Please...” he whispered finally, when his voice had at last given up on the screaming. “He wasn't given the task... He simply took it upon... himself to look after... her... because we weren't attentive enough... to her needs – Catherine and I...!”
“It will stop in time," Nicholas said evenly. Well it would eventually, and then it wouldn't be long before the tablet he'd given Fredrick would be able to take effect and begin destroying him from the inside. But for now it should have been agony. He raised his eyebrows when Fredrick confessed as to why Matthew had always taken care of Diana. "Strange. You were always very attentive towards me, and I've been told I was a very fussy child. And yet you could not be bothered to raise your own daughter - well, I always knew you preferred boys, brother."
“That's a... base lie!” Frederick moaned out, through the by-now blinding agony in his chest – and oh God, his stomach now, too! “Please, Nicky... would I have married Catherine – and stayed married to her for almost 50 years – if I preferred boys? Would I have... even had children... if I preferred boys, even...?” And then...the pain got to be too much for him, and his eyes rolled back into his head.
"Yes, even I didn't suspect that Catherine would remain blind to it after all those years. That poor woman..." He took the last potion off the tray and uncorked it. "But she never knew, did she? The dear woman, she must have been perfect for you," he sneered, "Did she really never suspect a thing in fifty years? You do keep your promises, Fredrick. 'This is our secret, Chaton.'" Even saying it seemed to pain him a little bit. "Now drink this."
“B-but Catherine was never neglected by me – not at all!” Suddenly realising the gravity of the situation, Frederick struggled to sit up again, to get away from the potion proffered to him. “No, Nicky, please don't! I'm sorry I ever called you that – Chaton, I mean...! I mean, really, Nicky, it's years since I even touched you – decades, even! Why NOW? Please, Nicky, have mercy on me, PLEEEEAAAASE!” he wailed out as the poison he had swallowed before reached his head – and his precious, precious mind! The Selwyns had always been regarded for their good advice and their wisdom in many areas, but now Frederick's brain felt like it was on fire...
"So it has. Perhaps I should have gotten to you sooner, frère, but as many decades passed and I never wanted anything more than this." He was smiling now, but unlike his brother, who wailed every word, he kept his voice low. "And perhaps you never neglected her Fredrick, but even you can't have any illusions that it was anything less than a betrayal of the worst sort. You didn't deserve her, just as you don't deserve your son." He leaned in to look his brother straight in the eye. "Now drink this. It won't hurt now, I can promise you that."
“A betrayal!?” Frederick spluttered out, still at the same wailing pitch as before. “No, Nicky, no! I never betrayed her; I admit I betrayed your trust, and...” Diana's, he was about to say, but stopped himself, almost unconsciously, with another groan of deep and agonising pain, inside his head. “Please, Nicky, make it stop! I mean, this pain, inside my head! I'll die a raving lunatic if it doesn't stop...! PLEEEAAASE!” He still didn't take the potion, not trusting his brother's word anymore than he should have trusted Frederick's own.
Nicholas sneered. "I never had any reason to trust you, Fredrick. Not since I was a child. But she," he laughed, "She did! While her husband was unfaithful to her - and with his own brother! I can only dream of what she would have said to you. Or done to you! Perhaps I'm getting the vengeance she would have taken." He didn't seem overly interested in his brother's plight. "It'll stop in time," he replied, "But by then I should think insanity would be the least of your problems. I'm your healer, Fredrick, I'm doing this for your own good." He supposed he was. "But -" he backtracked a little, "What do you mean, 'and'? Who else? What else?" He gave Fredrick a sincere look. "I shouldn't want to make this any worse than I have to.”
“Well, no, not exactly unfaithful to her – I mean, honestly, Nicky, I could never have done with her what I did with you...!” Frederick tried to rationalise it all, to keep his emotions in check, but all the same he shuddered at “Nicky's” last words. “I... did this thing... to.. Diana... same as with you, I mean...! Well – not really, I suppose, considering she had a cunt to stick it into! Oh God, Di...!” And with that, he buried his face into his pillow, weeping openly for his daughter's loss – or at least, the loss of his daughter.
"Oh, fuck your excuses already," hissed Nicholas, "You know what you've done and who you've hurt, but I should have known you, always rationalizing everything -" He was cut off when Fredrick mentioned his niece, his expression contorting to one of pure disgust. He stood up. "Monster." His voice shook with rage. He might have hexed Fredrick right there, had he not stopped himself. "I should have known if it wasn't one it was the other." Straightening up, he tried to calm himself down and said his next words calmly. "Ask Kinjala for a knife when she comes in with your breakfast. A good, sharp one. When she leaves, slit your wrists. If you've any honour at all, frère, end your life.”
Frederick quailed in his bed, pulling the sheets closer up to him, as Nicholas spoke so harshly to him – as he had never spoken to Nicky, after all! He had loved his little brother – perhaps too well, but even so... “I'm so... so-sorry, Nicky! I'm sorry about you and Di both! I'm so sorry!” he bawled out, his voice growing even weaker as he continued on. “I mean, I never meant to HURT you – either of you! I loved you both, so well...!” His voice was now barely above a whisper. “I never properly apologised to Di... I mean, since she moved out of the house, away from me...! She spent so little... time over here that... Matthew began to wonder... if she hated him – and it was me she despised... all along...! Oh Merlin, Di....!”
"So you say it's just your own way of loving your family - children under your charge no less?" After listening to what his brother had said, Nicholas was floored. Then his voice turned cold. "Either you're lying to me or you are truly an animal, Delaitre. Utterly pathetic."
“I know... I know I am...!” Frederick whispered through his broken, weakening sobs. “I mean, HONESTLY, Nicky... It's been eating at me ever since Di told me why she was leaving us – and now look at what it's gotten her! I mean, she was blown to pieces, apparently; they couldn't even offer us a body to lay to rest once... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was done with her...!” His sobs renewed with a vengeance, and he buried his face into the pillow once more, as if hoping to suffocate himself, rather than slit his wrists as was suggested...!
Perhaps he did feel a twinge of sorrow for the man in the bed, if only for the fact that he'd lost his daughter. And he was so pitiful, it was difficult to believe that this was the man he'd feared more than anyone else as a child. He was silent for a moment, before softly saying, "What are you?" Then his expression hardened, and he said, "But you must take this." He offered the potion again.
“No, PLEASE, don't!” Frederick cried out, though it was muffled by the pillow. “Nicky, please have some MERCY on me! Don't make me take another one of your POISONS...!” If poison, indeed, it was – but again, he couldn't trust his brother any more than his brother ought to have trusted him, in their youth!
"Let me tell you a secret," said Nicholas, "And you really mustn't tell anyone. I never told on you, did I? The potions I've been giving you over the past few months have a bit of a purpose. They may hurt now, but they do much more than that. You see, have the effect of effectively destroying your internal organs, but instead of killing you from they keep your body working in a minimal capacity, but you are dependant upon them. If you want to live to see another day, you must take all of them."
“...” Frederick looked up at his ickle little brother, in pure shock. “...You... did that... to me, Nicky? Your own brother!? You've... you've killed me...!” And he moaned again, this time in fear rather than actual pain. Fear of the afterlife, fear of facing Diana again – she had looked at him so balefully the last time she was over for a visit, that Frederick wondered how Matthew could have missed it, still assuming his sister had disliked him so much...!
"No, I've pre-emptively put you in Hell," said Nicholas. He was about to say something else when he heard a knock at the door. "Ah! That must be Kinjala," he said, and opened the door to greet her. The two exchanged some words in Hindi before Nicholas gave her the potion and laughed when he realized he'd forgotten the other one Fredrick hadn't taken, and went and fetched it for his wife, packing up his bag on the way. His mood had obviously changed as he kissed Kinjala and said goodbye to her, and he was almost as good-natured when he said, "Goodbye then, Fredrick."
Frederick sobbed into his pillow, completely ignoring his brother's good-natured farewell. He ignored, too, Kinjala's attempts to feed him, until his stomach overtook his mind, and he reluctantly – and very painfully – sat up to receive the delicious-smelling food, and the foul-smelling potions as well...