Gaius 'no more Mister Nice Gaius' Travers (excelsior) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-05-29 21:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1980-05] may, gaius travers, peter pettigrew |
29 May 1980
WHO: Peter Pettigrew and Gaius Travers
WHAT: Continuing 'rehabilitation'
WHERE: St Mungo's Rehabilitation Centre
WHEN: Friday, 29 May 1980
RATING: PG
Gaius was hardly in the mood to be doing anything with patients after what had happened with Jo earlier. He wanted nothing more than to be at home, spending time with his sister or taking time for himself -- a luxury he was rarely allowed. But as much as he had come to loathe the work, it had to be done. His place as a Death Eater was still important, regardless of his current familial situation. Maybe if he proved that he could do something right with this one, they'd forget that the last one had gone according to a different and more spontaneous plan than he'd originally hoped. Peter Pettigrew had presented a new challenge -- manipulating a woman was easy, but he hadn't been quite sure what he would face when he attempted to do the same to a man. He had a tray with dinner on his arm, which he had considered giving to one of the others to deliver, but he knew the importance of maintaining contact with the patient. Things with Jo had seemed to be going smoothly enough until he'd been injuried and unable to work for several days after the battle at Hogwarts. Fortunately, Peter had seemed to crave enough approval and compassion that his tactics had worked -- all he'd had to do was turn him against his friends, and considering that they had done very little to save him (unlike Jo's colleagues), it wasn't hard to create reasons for doubt. He did not bother to knock on the door before he swung it open and stepped through the wards into the man's room -- he had long since given up on pleasantries and Peter shouldn't have been doing anything that he didn't want people to see anyway. He would have no privacy. He would have nothing unless Gaius said he could have it. He'd been too lax before and he wasn't about to repeat his missteps. "Mr Pettigrew," he said in greeting as he closed the door behind him and put down the tray of food on the sole table in the room. "How are you this evening?" As much as it disgusted him that he had to feign kindness, violence didn't seem necessary in this situation. Some small-talk, enough to make him believe that he was trusthworthy, that he could be consider a friend to some extent, might be enough to get what he wanted. Captured. He could barely believe it. Peter's stomach had twisted into several knots when he realized the position that he was in. They had his wand. He wasn't even sure why they hadn't killed him yet. There was absolutely no way that he was going to get out of this intact, not without a lot of talk, a lot of compromise, and some double dealing. But there was absolutely no time for that right now, not with the bile that was already collected in the back of his throat that made him want to hiss and spit at the offending individual. And definitely made him have no desire for the tray of food that had just been sat in front of him. "It's probably poisoned anyway," Peter said, staring at the food before moving his gaze up to Gaius. "A slow, agonizing death so that you can watch us suffer. That's what you lot want, isn't it?" "Certainly not," Gaius said, raising his eyebrows at Peter before glancing in the direction of the food. "We would prefer to keep you alive and healthy. You are far more useful that way." Drawing out a chair and taking a seat, Gaius let out a weary sigh and folded his arms across his chest. He did not honestly care about this boy's health or whether or not he was poisoned by the food beyond any self-absorbed level -- he had to be kept healthy so that he could be rehabilitated. But he supposed a few more days without food wouldn't kill or permanently damage him, so with a wave of his wand, the tray of food disappeared. "However, if you are not interested in eating, I have a few questions for you." More useful. Of course that was all this was. He was just a tool to them. He wasn't expecting anything more than that, but as long as he had been stuck here, waiting, trying to figure out what they wanted with him, asking him inane and pointless things. Having realized that nobody was going to come for him some long time before, Peter had been tolerating the interrogations simply for something to do, but he had hoped for something a little more than 'a few questions' this time. Glancing up at other man, a scowl darkening his features as he tried to recall a name. He'd been attempting to do so every time that he had entered the room. He was sure that he'd known this man once, at least, in passing. They looked about the same age. But any name continued to escape him. "You're wasting your time," Peter told him blankly. "I might be bored, but I'm not stupid." "I know you aren't stupid," Gaius said, unfolding his arms in an attempt to appear somewhat less hostile. He was slowly sinking back into the role he'd gotten somewhat used to playing. Whatever else he'd had on his mind wasn't important now. As impatient as he'd become with this pointless back-and-forth, he would get through to him, one way or another. If talking wouldn't break him down, he had other tactics that he wasn't at all afraid to employ if necessary. He'd done it before and even though he hated what he was becoming, torture was growing easier and easier to dole out. "I think you're making a stupid decision, though, by not cooperating with us. We are just trying to help you, Peter." He fixed him with a meaningful look, hoping that he would understand what he meant and the faux sincerity with which he said it. "If you haven't noticed already, we are the only ones trying to help." He didn't have any right, no right at all. Peter's face steeled against the implication as he looked up at Gaius with a slight edge flashing in his eyes, "You're not trying to help. You're trying to get me to realign my thinking to better reflect your own," He said before turning his eyes back down to the table top in front of him. He could argue all he wanted, and he could be as stubborn as possible. But he knew that in the end, they'd get what they wanted one way or the other even if it didn't end in making him think that they were right. "So you can get whatever it is that you want." "What I want right now is for you just to listen," Gaius said, watching him as carefully as he could without being too conspicuous. "You are alone. Your friends don't care and they aren't going to rescue you. You have two choices -- either you can cooperate with me now and make this easy for both of us or you can sit in here until I get tired of trying to do this the easy way." He leaned back in his chair and took a moment to let his words sink in, to make sure that he was listening before he continued. "I want to know who they are so that we can help them, too. We know what you've done and this is for your own benefit. You are a danger to yourself and others if you continue to do what you've been doing." He paused again to lean forward, lowering his voice as though speaking to him in confidence. "It doesn't have to be this hard. What you're fighting will happen with or without opposition. You said you aren't stupid, so surely you can see that you're on the wrong side. How many more have to die, Peter, before you realize that we aren't the ones in the wrong? We are trying to help and to protect what little we have left to protect." "If you think that you're fighting for what you think you are, you're far more blind than I ever thought," Peter said, his expression narrowing. So what if he was right? If they hadn't come by now, his friends weren't going to come for him. They had probably already given him up for dead. They wouldn't just forget about him. Would they? "How many more people have to die? Why don't you go and ask your Lord and Master how many more family lines he's going to kill by sending you all to do his dirty work?" Peter asked, scowling at Gaius. They couldn't not see it, could they? "You might have little left to protect, but you keep going, you're not going to have anything." Gaius folded his hands in his lap and tried to maintain an even countenance as his subject's changed -- he needed to remain unaffected. It had occurred to him some time ago that he was not all that different from the vigilantes. They were almost all young, all fighting for something much larger than themselves. Where the difference was most obvious was in their ideologies and he simply couldn't get past the fact that they were wrong. Even though he had felt, many times, distanced from the more notable members of their society, he still held onto the believe that they were better, that those who diluded their bloodline by marrying Muggles and Muggle-borns who had no right to the magic they'd spend thousands of years cultivating deserved to be punished and alienated for their offense against Wizardkind. "I have two sisters," he said, keeping his voice low. "Am I wrong for wanting to protect them, to make our society a more hospitable one and spare them from the things they should never have to see? What do you have left to protect, Peter? What is the point of fighting?" "I have my mother left to protect," Peter said, his gaze narrowing on Gaius. "A mother who raised me and cared for me and who you lot want to kill simply because she's a muggle," He said, the venom gathering in the back of his throat before his eyes narrowed at Gaius. "My father had sisters, too. Sisters who were forced into marriages that they hated simply because of their duties to society. Sisters who were miserable and treated as nothing more than chattle and incubators for their husband's spawn because of their rules of the society that you are trying so hard to protect. I'm sorry, but I simply can't see the merits in working to uphold something that treats another human being as if they are nothing more than property to be traded and used." "We are all traded and used regardless of the cause," Gaius said, wiping a hand across his forehead. "That is simply how it is. Whether we are fighting for our beliefs or working to support our families. These are our roles and our duties with or without war or conflict. Nothing can be perfect." He would refrain from commenting on whether or not women in particular should be traded and used, since he doubted that he could make himself any more sympathetic by agreeing that while women were certainly people over property, they had their roles to fill. If every marriage could be perfected, he was sure that they would be, but he doubted that a marriage with Muggles would make life anything less than more miserable. "And had your father not brought her into this world where she does not belong -- where she is privy to knowledge and cultural practices she cannot be expected to understand -- then you would not have to protect her. By allowing wizards and witches to carelessly tinker with the lives and world-views of people they supposedly love, how are we not simply being more cruel than kind?" "If you people weren't trying to kill her, I wouldn't have to protect her," Peter said, the venom that had gathered in his throat being spat into those words. "Don't try and turn this around with your blame the victim logic. She never did anything to any one of you, and yet, you hate her and people like her simply for the very fact that they are. This has nothing to do with what my father did or did not do. It has nothing to do with her. It is all based in ridiculous prejudices that have no grounding in reality," He said before heaving a sigh a pressing a hand to his forehead. What was he doing? He was simply making an argument that would be shot down no matter what angle he came at it from. When trying to argue ideology, it was more productive to just bang your head against a brickwall and be done with it. "But we've both got the wrong end of the stick," Peter said with a heavy mumble. "All we're doing is shooting ourselves in the foot repeatedly simply because we can't agree." "Perhaps," Gaius said, conceding with a small grin. "But I think you have the wrong idea about our relationship to Muggles. It isn't a matter of hating Muggles or wanting to kill them. I think that most would agree such things are vulgar. It is another matter entirely to introduce a Muggle into our world. There is a Statute of Secrecy for a reason. It is safer for them not to know about us for a multitude of reasons. Not to mention that I doubt all are as accepting of the idea of wizardry as your mother, I presume. The system isn't perfect, but why should laws be broken to facilitate mixed-blood marriages? Why allow leniency with one, very important law, and not others?" With a wave of his hand, Gaius shook his head and dismissed the thought. "Maybe we can't agree. But where is your mother now? She has not come to your aid. Are you certain that she even misses you? It is clear enough that your friends do not. Our last patient's friends were so persistent that they brutalized members of my family to see that she was returned. Your friends have not even attempted to contact us. Nor has your mother." "My mother is out of country in order to keep her from dying like my father did," Peter said, his expression hardening. "And my friends have other things to concern themselves with than me," He said. Even as much as it hurt, he could understand...in part. He'd been gone for so long. Not a word, not a sound. But you'd think they'd at least try, wouldn't you? If he really meant as much as they tried to make him think that he did. "That is usually how it goes when you're trying to be exterminated." "And those who fought to sabotage the Ministry are not trying to be 'exterminated' as well?" Gaius raised a doubtful eyebrow at the word. "It is interesting that in between trying to avoid atonement for their crimes and planning to commit others that they somehow managed to find the time to organize the rescue of some one who meant something to them. And if they truly believe you are in as much danger as they would like everyone to believe you are, why have they done nothing?" He shook his head -- how was it that no one had tried to get to him and that there had been no public outcry, no crudely-directed anger on his behalf? "It is fortunate for you that we have no intention of hurting you. I am merely grateful that I have more loyal friends than you seem to." The words stung. Peter couldn't deny that. They hit him right on the sorest spot that he had had since being a child, the fear that he wasn't important enough for anyone to tolerate much less care about. He'd thought when he'd gotten to Hogwarts that he finally wouldn't have to worry about that issue cropping up again and making him feel as though he didn't really matter. "Maybe they just think I can take care of myself," Peter counted, weakly, his resolve shaken because he knew that that was nowhere near the case. Even though Gaius almost felt some sense of pity for him at that moment, that he continued to try and defend their decision to all but abandon him was even more pitiful. With a short, derisive laugh, he persisted. "Or maybe they think you're disposable. They have lost others and toiled on. What is the loss of one more of their so-called friends in the scheme of things? Excusing them won't make them care any more than they do, which doesn't seem to be very much, given that you could be in far worse conditions, for all they know, and yet they have done nothing. Are those the sorts of people you're taking orders from? Ones who couldn't care less whether you're dead or alive?" "I haven't been taking orders from anyone. The whole fucking thing is futile," Peter said, the anger and frustration finally boiling to the surface. "The best that we can do is try and lessen the suffering for those affected. We're all going to die one way or another before this is all over." "You don't have to die, Peter. Your mother and friends don't have to die, either," Gaius said, leaning forward again with his elbows on his knees. "We want to help you. We want to help them, too, but we can't do it without you. I am sure they aren't bad people, but look at what this fighting has done -- friendships mean nothing. When their loyalty is to an ideal over the people with whom they are aligned -- the people they're supposed to be helping -- then who is worse off? Will they offer your mother protection in your absence if anything were to happen to her? How can you count on anyone who claims to have your best interest at heart when your capture has not even shaken them?" "They mean well," Peter said quietly, his hands dropping to the table in front of him, folding across themselves as his forehead was dropped onto them. He was so tired, and he just wanted to go home. He didn't know how much he'd missed, what he'd missed, or what exactly they wanted out of him that was so important that they were keeping him here, but he did know one thing. He was tired. He was tired of fighting. And what would be so bad if he got to go home? It wasn't as though there was anything he knew that was vital or earth shattering. "What do you want?" "I want to help you," Gaius said, as gently as he could manage. "And I want to help your friends, but I need to know where they are before I can do that. I don't want to see anyone else hurt, particularly when we are not so different -- we are both people who are trying to do what we believe is right and what we need to do to protect our families." With the smallest bit of hesitation, he rose from his chair and moved to sit next to Peter, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I respect what you're trying to do -- and I understand it. But as you said, it's futile. We can offer you security. You won't have to keep running, hiding or being afraid of what will happen next. I want to see this war ended peacefully, but we're going to have to work together for that to happen." "They're not going to compromise," Peter said, as sincerely as he could. He knew it was the truth. So many of the people that he knew would rather die than make concessions. Damn Gryffindors. Nobody wins in that situation. "Even if it's in their best interests, admitting defeat isn't in their consciousness." "Isn't it worth it to try?" Gaius asked. He understood what Peter was saying -- reasoning with the rest of them would be difficult. It would be yet another challenge to figure out what, exactly, motivated them and to diffuse it as effectively as possible. He could tell that even if Peter's friends hadn't cared enough about him to balk at his absence, he must have cared about them. "It could save their lives, Peter. It could keep them out Azkaban." "They're good people," Peter said with a sigh. "They're just so stubborn and steadfast in what they believe and so sloppy in their execution," He said, shaking his head with a sigh. "We were just trying to make things even," He said before looking up at Gaius. "And all we succeeded in doing was making hypocrites out of ourselves," He said with a long pause before exhaling and nodding. "I'll tell you what you want." |