When Bellatrix's body breaks, she does not ask "Why?" Bellatrix may be a lot of things, but she is not a fool. She knows why this is happening to her. But through the pain, a question does force itself into her mind.
Was it worth it?
And worse, more painful than her wounds, the answer comes.
No. It wasn't.
With a sob, Bellatrix hates herself more than she ever has before. This was not the way she was supposed to die.
Waiting.
Nearby, she can hear people still fighting, but no one comes for her. The only person who would is dead now.
Rodolphus...
Bellatrix is waiting to die, and for a moment, it is almost a relief. Finally, she has enough time to rest and think alone. Finally, she belongs only to herself.
In death.
But the relief passes, and she is left with the realization that her whole life has been useless.
What was she fighting for?
The answer is on Bellatrix's tongue.
But it is the one that was pounded into her will since childhood.
It is the wrong one.
Bellatrix bites her tongue.
What was she trying to save?
Her hand twitches in the dirt, and someone is screaming in the distance. The fighting has moved farther away. She is alone, but surprisingly, that is not the realization that chokes her.
Sunshine.
That is what brings the tears to her eyes. The sobs to her lips. That was all she wanted, and it was she who stole it from herself.
Darkness.
That's what Bellatrix hates more than anything.
How... surprising.
Yes. She laughs. And then remembers and cries. For as long as she could remember... From the moment she was born...
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was full of darkness.
And more than anything, Bellatrix wished for sunlight. For someone to open the curtains. For the house to be full of light instead of shadows.
But it was forbidden.
And Bellatrix, for all her rebellious ways, never opened the curtains. Never could.
She learned to thrive in darkness. To live.
And hated herself for it. She learned to bow too, but that didn't make her happy. She learned to serve. To pretend to love it.
And then there was...
Rodolphus. Rodolphus was sunlight and freedom and love. Rodolphus made happiness. Secreted it. He opened every curtain. Killed every shadow.
She had never wished for something as much as she wished for someone like him.
And she cried when she finally got him.
Rodolphus staring over the rim of a coffee cup, the light behind him. Rodolphus in the garden. Rodolphus laughing, forever making it impossible for her to sulk in the shadows. Rodolphus with flowers and apologies and kisses to make it better.
Rodolphus crying.
Rodolphus sobbing so hard he couldn't breathe.
Rodolphus broken.
Bellatrix in bed with Rabastan. Bellatrix begging with her husband to take her back.
She couldn't open the curtains alone, so she slipped quietly back in the darkness.
Fighting the light, as she was taught to do.
Waiting for him to come back to save her.
But it hadn't been the same when he did. He never opened the curtains anymore. He dressed in shadows and wore a white mask. He stood beside her, but he could never look at her.
Azkaban.
And that's what finished it. The darkness became cold. It killed Rabastan, and it ruined Rodolphus. And in the end...
It killed him too.
And so when the darkness begins to cloud her vision, she wishes for light instead. Blinding sunlight so bright she can't see. Because it wasn't worth it. Because she was fighting to preserve a life she ruined. She was fighting to keep the darkness she despised.
And she blamed it on others.
Because she was selfish.
The pain and shadows blind her instead. As do the last of her tears.
And then the darkness killed her too.