This is something that came up while reading a number of rather angsty fics. It will explore insanity in certain forms, dissociation with identity, and a whole lot of coping, both with torturous memories and emotional upheaval, on the road to possible recovery.


Tidbit 4: Harry Potter fic, based after an AU final battle.

Title: Disjointed

Summary: He stood on the edge of everything-the choice before him. To put in his hand with Fate. With grace, he made his choice and let himself fall over the edge, never to rise again... Or so he believed.

Rating: T/M


"—he can't have gotten far—"

Flash of a camera—no, far too bright, far too loud—

"Look there, I told you—"

—electric tingle of life in the frigid air, rumble of righteous anger from black velvet emptiness—

"Come now, son, let's get you inside. Easy, now—"

—battling frigid stabs of diamonds against skin, sharp knives and icy kisses—

"He'll catch his death out here! It's freezing—"

—but no, no, no, kisses and black and flashes fading into something warm and bright and soft and painful

"Watch out! He's—"

—wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong

"Someone close those doors!"

—it's gone, it can't be gone, no, stop, wait

"Come on now, easy! Hey, give me some help here—"

—stop, wait, it's... it's...

"Easy now, easy... We've got you. It's okay."

...fading into nothing...


"You have to be able to do something—"

"I told you, there's nothing you can do but wait."

"Wait? Wait? You expect me to just sit around and wait while you—he—"

"That is exactly what I expect you to do! If there was something else that could be done, I can assure you that I would most certainly have done so!"

"So... what? You're just going to sit around and hope by some bloody miracle that he'll suddenly—"

"You are not the only bloody person who cares!"

Something shattered, and then there was silence.

A voice, low and intense.

"If you trust me so little to be able to do my job, then why don't you tell me what I should be doing? Because you're not the only one who's asking themselves constantly why something more can't be done, wondering how it could have... c-could have c-come t-to..."

Nothing but sobs.

"I... I didn't kn—"

Sudden fire.

"The things you don't know could fill a bloody library. Get out of my sight, Black!"

Silence.

The closing of a door.

Nothing remained but the figure of a woman standing still as silent tears slid down her face.