Kimb Baker (onlylooktwelve) wrote in contentious, @ 2008-12-02 22:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | * complete, kimb baker, romilda vane |
Who: Kimb Baker, Romilda Vane
When: December 2, 2001
Where: Romilda and Harry's
What: Chinese Dinner
Rating: R
Warning: Romilda explains what happened at the Museum
Status: Private
Kimb tried not to hurry because she knew she was treading on thin, thin ice. She didn't want Romilda to know how worried she'd been, or that she'd spent the afternoon eying Perkins whenever he walked by, and though she was sure he was squirming she couldn't figure out what in the blazes he had done short of- but no, Kimb wasn't going there. Romilda would tell her in her own time and she just had to pray (if Jesus hadn't forgotten her in her heretic lifestyle) that it wasn't as bad as that.
She'd gotten her list of essential 'add fat to your arse' Chinese food, including the rangoon, wonton, dumplings, fried rice with extra egg, egg drop, fortune cookies and spring rolls - and she had a liter of diet soda to make them feel better about it all. She knocked on Romilda's door, arms laden with purse and bags and she danced anxiously, feeling as if her arms were going to fall off. It was fine. She was sure it was fine. Romilda was fine and- Deep breath, Kimb. Not a puppy. Not needy. This is your friend. She is fine. Oh, God. Kimb hadn't felt so small and scared in a long, long time.
Romilda had spent the past three days at home, not leaving the house, which had suited Kreacher just fine as he liked having people to make work for him. He'd given her meals which she'd barely touched, and, after that first wretched day of taking shower after shower, she'd instead let herself go, staying wrapped up in the same bathrobe and pyjamas Theodore had left her in, feeling small and cold and disgusting, and it all seemed to go along together.
She'd washed her face and brushed her hair this afternoon, knowing Kimb was coming over, and finally, after some urging from Kreacher, had taken a bath and changed her clothes.
It did help a little, but not terribly much, and she was wearing her pyjamas again with an oversized Quidditch jumper she'd stolen from someone at some point in time.
When the doorbell rang, she let Kreacher get it, waiting until he came upstairs with a harumphing noise to introduce her guest. He referred to Kimb as the "small one" and always seemed vaugely dissapproving of her, although he had grown quite fond of Romilda during her time at Grimmauld.
"Miss Romilda's friend is here," he said, as if Kimb wasn't standing right there. The absurdity of it made Romilda smile and she beckoned Kimb in, excusing the elf, and then wrapping her arms around the other girl in a hug, bags and all.
Kimb was rather sure Kreacher hated her, but he was pleasant enough (for him) tonight and lead her upstairs without a real grumble (the harumph didn't really count.) Kimb leaned into Romilda's embrace since she couldn't very well hug her back, and after pulling away, set the bags down, switching straight into mother hen mode.
"Okay, so, I got everything, and I think there may even be some actual meat in here - it's mostly side items, but God, I love them best." She pulled out carton by cartons, immediately handing Romilda the spring rolls and a pair of chopsticks before diving back into the bag for napkins. She could do this - this whole pretending thing. She'd done it the night before when she'd practically forced her way over. They sat, they watched TV and Kimb left whens he was sure Romilda would be okay - it was awkward as hell, but she'd done it.
Now was different though, now Kimb knew - or, as close to knew as she could get without being told - and she rambled on about the food to keep from worrying or turning back to her and hugging her tight and hating what had happened, whatever it was.
"And, the piece de resistance," Kimb said, pulling out her favorite, "Crab rangoon. God, I love this stuff." She smiled over at Romilda with a cheeky little grin before looking about for Kreacher, intent on asking him for some cups for the soda.
Romilda took the bag with the spring rolls in it and put one on the paper plate that had been provided, nosing amongst the sauces with one long armed stretch and pouring a generous amount of Spicy Mustard all over the entire thing before taking a bite. It was one of the first things she'd eaten with appetite in days, and she closed her eyes with contentment as she swallowed.
There was a pop, and Kreacher, as he always did, came in with proper glasses and china and silverware on a tray, eyeing theirs with distaste before snapping his fingers and fixing everything just so and then vanishing again, the paper plates firmly tucked under his arm as if he was terrified to let them alone with them.
"This is so good," she told Kimb. "I want a Crab Rangoon too. Might as well go all out."
Kimb piled Romilda's plate with rangoon (she'd been a pig and gotten a large container... of well just about everything.) She took a bite of her fried rice with a content smile and looked over at Romilda's plate. Good, she'd been a bit afraid that Romilda was holing herself up in the house and not eating, but she seemed to have plenty now.
"Well, even if we both go all out, I think I got enough to feed starving children for a year." Kimb made horrible jokes normally, but she was a bit more off than usual today.
Romilda's lips curved up at the corners. "I can bring them to the production of Oliver! get in practice for having to deal with all the orphans."
She smiled a bit and looked down at her food, taking another bite and swallowing carefully before looking at Kimb. It was the first time she'd felt finally normal in days, and she could only imagine how horrible it would have been if things would have been worse.
"I'm sorry about everything," she said after a moment. "This whole mess."
Kimb's face stilled immediately at Romilda's last words, and she swallowed slowly, scared and totally unsure of what to say. Part of her had reveled in the few minutes where they'd been back to normal, but deep down the truth was lurking and Kimb knew it was only a matter of time before it came up.
"Please don't apologize anymore," Kimb said softly, casting her eyes down with a shaky little breath before looking back up. "It's not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for." Kimb wanted to believe like hell that this was true. She couldn't be sure, but God, she hoped it wasn't as bad as her mind was spinning it (it had spent the majority of the afternoon getting far too carried away with itself.)
Romilda silently took another bite of her Spring Roll, finishing it off and chewing slowly, before reaching for the soda and washing it down. She poked at her rice for a moment and took a couple of bites before setting the plate aside for the time and looking back over at Kimb.
"It sort of is," she said. "He... he asked me to do something in exchange for keeping our secret. And at first... I thought I could do it. But then.." Her expression went a little blank, and she slowly lifted the hair away from her face on one side, so Kimb could see the faint bruises still there, the finger marks where he'd dug them into her cheek and jaw as he forced himself on her.
"He told me that he'd ... do worse if I didn't make him beleive I was scared. And then I was scared." Her eyes filled with silent tears and she bit her lip and looked away because she couldn't look at Kimb.
"He said he'd use a binding spell on me. And he had his wand... against... my throat."
Kimb's throat closed tighter with every word from Romilda's mouth and she clutched her hand to her chest waiting for the word rape. It was the worst thing she could think of and she felt some twisted sense of relief that she hadn't heard it yet. She reached for Romilda's hand tentatively, before grabbing onto it and giving it the best reassuring squeeze she could manage.
"I-" she hadn't a clue what to say and she leaned forward and moved her hand as if she wanted to cup Romilda's face where the bruises were, but she hesitated. She probably shouldn't be touching her at all - she could only imagine that it would just make her feel worse. She let go of Romilda's hand slowly and tried to meet her gaze. She wanted to comfort her, but God damnit if she knew how.
When Kimb leaned forward and withdrew, it confirmed all Romilda's fears, that Kimb was disgusted, that she was filty and horrifying. She pulled back in on herself, cupping her arms around her knees and resting her chin on her hands, suddenly not knowing what to say or do or where to look.
"I didn't want to," she whispered, trying desperately not to cry. "I know everyone thinks I'm ... this girl that just does things like that, but I didn't want him to, I didn't." She felt her throat choking up and she leaned against the sofa from the side, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to see the look in Kimb's eyes.
"He told me to come to work on Monday and he didn't want me to wear any knickers. Just stockings. Black ones if I had them."
Kimb's eyes watered at the sight of the poor, broken girl before her. All of her body language confirmed it. She was inverting, she didn't want to be touched. Oh, God damn that fucking son of a bitch. Kimb was certain she could kill Perkins on sight if she saw him. She scooted closer to Romilda and laid a hesitant hand on her back, not wanting to startle her or make the pain worse. God, and to think she'd spitefully accused Oliver of practically raping her once. She was stupid and naive, a dumb stupid girl who didn't have a clue and now her friend was sitting here hurting and crying and God, she was so dumb.
"Oh, darling," she breathed, her palm flattening, her fingertips spreading across the warmth of Romilda's back. "I know you didn't. I'm so sorry." She stroked her hand slowly down her back, wanting to hug her but scared to make it worse. "Oh, Ro," she said forlornly, feeling a tear fall down her own cheek. "Let me help you, darling. Please. Whatever you need, just... let me in..."
Romilda stiffened ever so slightly when Kimb first touched her, but then, slowly, she moved so she was curled up against her, feeling strangely more like a little girl than she ever had in her life before.
Her hand found Kimb's and wrapped around it, fingers interlacing with Kimb's small ones. For a long time she just stared at them and she finally wet her lips with her tongue.
"When I was a little girl. My brother used to take me in his room and make me touch him. Not always. Just sometimes. And he never touched me. He..." She broke off and let out a breath. "I always tried... so hard.... to get him to love me, to get him to pay attention to me. And even then he never did." She wiped her cheek with her free hand, the tears flowing down now unchecked, a pain in her chest she hadn't really known was there until just now.
"I want to let you in, Kimb. I want... I want to be important to someone, really important. I just don't know how." Kimb was quiet beside her and she just listened to her breathing. "I asked Dennis to come over. That night. Because I was scared. And he wouldn't come. He thought I was trying to do something stupid to get his attention I think. I just... don't understand why everyone I love twists me up inside until I can't breathe, until I feel like I want to just lay down and ..." She broke off and closed her eyes. "I'm so fucked up, Kimb. You don't need somebody like me."
Kimb's breath hitched in her throat as Romilda spoke. She couldn't imagine any of this happening to anyone, let alone someone she'd come to care about like Romilda. Kimb's arms went about her automatically. She may not want to be touched, but Kimb, despite her lack of a loving mother figure, knew what it was to need to be hugged, and she hugged Romilda to her, trying her best to protect her from the damage that had already been done.
"Romilda," Kimb started, her voice soft, and as gentle as she could make. "Oh, sweetheart, no matter what you're my friend. Nothing else matters. F-forget the rest for now..." Kimb reached up a hand to stroke the other girls hair and sighed heavily, feeling like she was stuck in quicksand and unable to move or breathe. "What's important is that you're taken care of and protected, and you've got friends here to do that." Kimb felt horrible and selfish for ever having considered a relationship with Romilda. It was the last thing she needed and Kimb couldn't imagine that pressure had helped the other girl at all this week. "You've got me, and Harry, and Kreacher," Kimb wanted to list more, but she couldn't very well say Dennis at the moment, even though she was sure the boy had to care for her in some form, or he wouldn't bother at all. still, Kimb didn't have that many friends herself and she felt bad that she didn't know Romilda's friends. It just reaffirmed the fact that maybe a relationship just wasn't what they needed.
The words washed over her, and she heard them, but they did little to touch the pain inside. For so long she'd put up a front, it was something she was good at, hiding the cracks and the breaks inside her that had been there as long as she could remember.
She knew that front would be back up again, sooner rather than later, letting the hurts go by, ignoring them, pretending none of it mattered. Part of her wondered if she'd ever be anything but what she was, if she'd ever be someone that someone else could care about and love, if she would ever be able to do that for someone else in return.
"Thank you," she said finally, just turning and leaning her cheek on Kimb's shoulder, listening to her breathe, trying to keep from feeling like she was drowning.
After a long time she moved a bit away and reached for her plate again. It was warm still, and Kreacher had probably done something to keep it so, she thought.
"Do you think he's done this to anyone else?" she asked softly.
Kimb rubbed her hand soothingly over Romilda's back, keeping a slow and steady rhythm as she listened to her breathe. She didn't know what to say. She let Romilda pull away a bit but kept her hand on her back. She'd never imagined Perkins was capable of finding his own dick, much less using it. Kimb pressed her cheek to the top of Romilda's head and sighed softly.
"I don't know darling," Kimb said quietly. "But I don't want him to do it to anyone ever again." Kimb stilled her hand before reaching out to grab her hand. "Darling, you know this isn't your fault, right? You didn't ask for this, nothing you could have said or done made him act that way and no one will fault you for it. I don't fault you for it. No one is going to be mad." She couldn't betray Romilda's trust, but she couldn't imagine going into work tomorrow and having to see him and knowing he did what he did.
Romilda nodded slowly at that, then leaned back, plate in one hand, Kimb's hand wrapped around her other one.
She wasn't certain she believed Kimb, surely something she had done must have made him think he could do this to her, still, she wasn't going to argue.
"Not worrying about them being mad," she said quietly. "Worry about them judging me." She ran her thumb along the back of Kimb's hand. "I feel dirty and everyone that knows will know what he did to me."
"No one who cares about you would judge you and I don't see why anyone who doesn't know you should know." Kimb didn't know what to do or say. "Ro... you don't have to tell me, but you... maybe it would be good for you to tell someone." She squeezed her hands and sighed. "God, I don't want to force you to tell me, but you can't just let him do this to you and get away with it. God," she said in frustration. "I just want to hex him so badly and ugh!"
Despite herself, Romilda laughed. She wasn't sure why, maybe it was Kimb's expression. She moved a bit so she could tuck her legs under her and picked the crab rangoon off the plate, putting the remainder back on the table. She forced herself to take a bite, picking at the edge of the fried wonton with her teeth before fnding herself able to respond.
"Hexing is better than he deserves," she said after a moment. She bit her lip and wondered how best to say what had happened.
"He... took me down stairs and we were working for a while. And eventually, he told me how hard working I was and how dedicated and that it was time for me to show him that. That I needed to be challenged." She caught the look Kimb was giving her and she raised a hand to stop her from speaking. If she was going to get it out she would have to just do so.
"There were threats. About us. And then he... he pushed me on my knees and he opened his trousers." Her voice was a bit empty, not hers at all, and she looked back up at Kimb before tossing the rest of the rangoon, uneaten, back on the plate.
Her fingers went up to the side of her face and she bowed her head a little as she thought about it again. "I thought I could do it. That it was just an act and then he'd leave us alone. But then he... he... he wanted me to be scared. His hands... he had his hand in my hair and he said that if I didn't beg that he would ..." Her voice trailed off and she looked up at the ceiling, eyes burning from not crying.
"I just... Why? Why did he do that to me?" And then she was crying in earnest, like she had the night Theodore had found her, only now she wasn't sure she could stop.
Kimb moved closer to her, unable to refrain from hugging her a moment longer. She was going to kill someone, she just knew it. She hugged Romilda close and felt like crying herself. She whispered sweet, hushing noises to the other girl. "Oh, darling, I've got you," Kimb whispered, realizing she had started crying herself.
"I don't know, Ro, god I don't know, but it's not your fault. It's not, do you hear me? He's a sick bastard and it's not your fault."
"Yeah." Romilda lay there, not moving, just trying to breathe. "I just keep trying to tell myself that."