lakshmi patil (patill) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-04-10 17:29:00 |
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John made his way down the hallway of the hotel, making sure to stop in front of the right number. He stood outside the door for a few minutes, not entirely sure that he should have been there at all. He felt sick, and he felt like he should have been doing something out there -- helping catch Clement the best way he could, and yet he was here. He knocked on the door, holding the bag he brought with him tightly. He had sported his favourite look -- a baseball cap and a pair of aviators, but he left the actual glamour charms to rest for the day. When the door opened, he held the bag up to Lakshmi. “Got you triple chocolate fudge. And two spoons, because I want some too.” Wearily, Lakshmi opened the door (after checking for a long moment through the eye hole) and allowed John entrance — he’d contacted her earlier before, she knew it was him, but still she seemed tense. Understandably so, given it wasn’t even twenty-four hours yet since Keats Avery had tried to murder her. She looked so unnatural wearing sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt, her hair also undone, but it matched how she felt: defeated. “Okay,” she said, sounding numb and oddly flat compared against her normally upbeat and cheerful persona. “Thanks.” She went deeper into the standard issue hotel room, and flopped down on the king sized bed, deflated. No more adrenaline coursing through her system, nothing. She was stuck with her thoughts of the last 72 hours. “How are you?” It was odd -- though not unexpected -- to see Lakshmi in that state, and yet John still felt a little thrown by her demeanor. Nevertheless, he sat down next to her on the bed, opened the ice cream carton and handed her a spoon, along with the carton. “Fine,” he responded, a little curt. He realised his response and cleared his throat, before continuing. “I’m okay. How are you?” he asked, letting one hand rest on her shoulder. “Were you hurt in any way? Have you seen a Healer?” … that wasn’t at St. Mungo’s, he added in his head. Lakshmi took a moment to tie her hair back into a ponytail before taking the spoon from John. “I’m alright,” she said, sounding distant and not reacting too much to John’s gentle touch on her shoulder. “Yes, I’ve seen Nora and she’s taken care of it — I’m okay.” She didn’t sound it, but she was physically okay. “Ke— Avery shattered my hand, and he used Cruciatus on me. And Maddie.” It sounded cold and clinical, but it was the only way she was getting it out there without breaking down or sobbing. “He was going to send pieces to my nieces — his words — so they’d learn from my mistakes, John. He was so twisted.” She gasped, and then swallowed the rising lump in her throat while looking over at her friend. John remained expressionless and mute throughout her confession, though anger did fester below the surface. It was a good thing Avery was dead, or else John would have been happy to choke the air out of him, in that very moment. He nodded briefly when she looked at him, and struggled to find any words that would make all of this okay. Not that there were any words for this specific situation. His forehead creased and he exhaled, slightly defeated, slightly perplexed, entirely angry. His arm on her shoulder gave it a firm, but gentle squeeze and he nodded again. “Did he make any comments about why he was after you?” he inquired, trying to sound as neutral as possible. Blinking away the moisture forming in the corners of her eyes to be able to have this discussion, Lakshmi jabbed her spoon into the ice cream container before speaking. “He wanted to talk to me, he was saying. I think we know what talk means.” She wrangled free a scoop, and then continued, “And Byron asked me about the Floo a few weeks ago… so I was that Ministry source, and…” she trailed off. They were tying up loose ends. Byron. Her. That all but confirmed Byron’s involvement with the Beacon, and John blinked a few times, trying to process that bit of information, before his attention shifted to ‘talk’. He subconsciously chuckled, a bitter chuckle, and he scoffed after a moment. But of course. And then he voiced out his concern: “That article was about Vic. Are we sure she isn’t involved with all of this mess somehow?” he asked, his frown deepening. “It’s too coincidental.” She wouldn’t come out and out Byron. Somehow that felt like it wasn’t her place; that it was Lumos or Byron’s co-authors who had that right if they wished to. Still, there were enough dots for a professional like John to connect easily. “It was,” Lakshmi admitted. She didn’t want to talk about Vic Mulciber right now. “I don’t know. Maybe Avery lost it because someone was slandering her… but she’s still part of this.” “Hm.” John’s thoughts began to circle around the pieces of information that was presented to him and his concentration was now focused entirely on trying to connect them all together. He bit down on his lip and considered the motivation for Avery’s actions, and … there was still so much missing. He could wager enough guesses but not being completely certain about any one reasoning, he decided that he couldn’t voice out his thoughts out loud. That’s not what Auror Dawlish would have done and that is certainly not Friend John would do. “Well, the good part about this is that there is one less Death Eater running around,” he tried to be encouraging. “And we’ll get the others, too. But for now, you need to be safe and you need to not tell anyone about your locations. I know you know that, but doesn’t hurt to reiterate.” He forced a strained smile, and dug his own spoon in the ice cream. “Try to avoid talking to Death Eaters on the network if you can help it.” The spoon went into her mouth and for a moment, Lakshmi tried to savour the chocolate bliss. It came up short of improving her mood. “There’s one less and I’m hardly sad about that fact.” It might have been hard to reconcile Keats Avery her friend with the man who tried to murder her for a few seconds, but the more she dwelled on it the past evening she didn’t have any care in the world for his fate. It was cold, maybe, but given what he was intent on doing to her and had done to others she had nothing but disgust and hatred for the man. “I’m not going to tell anyone else about my location,” Lakshmi said, still sounding defeated. Lumos knew. John knew. Maddie knew, but that was about it. “I might have to tell them how messed up Avery was if they try to parade him as some hero.” “That’s fair,” John agreed, the mere thought of it making his blood boil in rage momentarily. Avery wasn’t a martyr, he was a murderer and he ought to be treated as such. He only hoped that the few remaining hopeful souls at the DMLE would be doing their best to not get the task out of hand, though he did wonder how Rowle or Montague, along with Yaxley, would manage to fuck it all up. He took a spoonful of ice cream and shoved it in his mouth, before letting the spoon fall in the bag. He wasn’t in an ice cream mood. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, glancing over at Lakshmi with an expression that suggested that he was, honest to god, scared in that particular moment. She went for a second spoonful of ice cream, but wasn’t helping the way it should have. This wasn’t a situation even a tub of cream could fix. “I’ll be okay.” It sounded flat and unconvincing, but then she scooted a little closer and put her head on John’s shoulder. “I don’t know about right now but I just keep alternating between wanting to sleep for a week and throwing up.” This last week was far too difficult to cope with. “But I’ll be okay eventually.” Instinctively, John let his arm come around Lakshmi and placed a small kiss on the top of her head. “Why don’t you try sleeping for now?” he suggested, nodding towards the bed. Lakshmi looked and felt exhausted. She hadn’t rested all evening, of course, and so the suggestion had merit to her. Not even the little snug or kiss got a reaction out of her owing to the tremendous, horrible situation she found herself in now. “Okay,” she answered, allowing a little yawn to escape her lips that she clamped a hand on before slipping out from under his arm, and laying down, head on a pillow. She was looking away from John, and even as she tried to rest, her eyes never closed. |