Cold cycled back in. She began to shiver again at the temperature of her cell dropped. She curled in on herself as best as she could, trying not to cry out from the pain movement brought to her. Her body had been beaten so many times, by fists and feet and metal. She didn't know how long she had been trapped here. The memory of being electrocuted into unconsciousness was a distant one, pushed away by brutal beatings, interrogations, and various torments. The cell always ranged from too hot to too cold, never settling to a comfortable temperature except when he visited. She couldn't even take comfort in those rare times, because his cruelty was the worst.
She twisted weakly on the floor, longing for the comfort of something soft beneath her bruised and lacerated body, instead of the cold concrete. Longed for the bindings on her wrists and ankles to be removed, so the gouges there could finally begin to heal and stop itching and burning so badly. Wished for the gag to be removed, so she could breath normally and move her jaw to ease the cramping from being held in one position for so long. She wished she could see something, and wished her hearing wasn't compromised by the heavy material covering her head at all times.
She hurt. Her body ached from near endless abuse. She was exhausted but could almost never sleep. Hungry, but was only offered food to keep her alive. Thirsty, but only offered water for the same reason. She longed for comforts she could not have. Longed for mercy that she could not ask for.
Sometimes, she just wished they would kill her and be done.
She comes back to sound filtering through the bubble of silence in her mind; specifically the sounds of angry shouting.
More specifically, Percival Graves
His voice sears through the air. "How the fuck did this happened?" The man's fists are clenched tight, and he's staring at Tina like the woman is personally offending him.
''We dont know sir!''Tina s frown deepens.''This thing came yesterday for Medea. And..''
''You didn't thought to check the pack?!'' Graves starts, gaze shifting to the members of MACUSA who are watching them.
"It slipped by our minds" One of the stauff said scared for his undead life.
"How did it slip" Graves started then said "I do not care how it slipped your minds but you have until nine o'clock to find the bastard who did this. Understood?"
"Yes Sire" all of MACUSA's stuff said at once, and you could hear the fear in their voices.
Graves rubbed his temples as the throbbing migraine came right back. The man looked at the hunter. Medea had woken up, he'd been told half an hour after it happened because she had needed calming down. Tina explained that she'd been frantic and terrified as she remembered bits and pieces of what had were waiting until she was calmer before sending him down. Graves knew he wouldn't have been allowed in the room if not for Medea's anxiety. He was going crazy waiting for the confirmation text. He wanted to be down there, wanted to sit beside his friend and reassure her, help her. She was shaking lightly, her knees as close to her chest as they could go, her arms locked around them. She didn't seem to notice him.
When she looked up, only to be met with a face.
Graves' face.
A quiet gasp escaped her lips with her breath as she took notice of his nlack eyes, the blood running down his cheeks, and the glass littering his shoulders. She remember Bigger pieces were stuck in the skin from where it broke across his body. Graves' face had lax and his head hung low, chin pressed into his chest. But despite the glass and metal resting on his back, Graves was still on his feet, arms and hands in a death grip braced against the wall, making a human shield between the fallen debris and Medea. Even angry at her at her, Graves had to make sure Medea was protected.
Although she did not know why Medea felt the unnecessary urge to smile.
Percival, Percival,Percival.
Medea reached her hands up to the sides of his face, staring at his features and motives with morbid curiosity. That was the moment it clicked. All the puzzle pieces fit together to create the bigger picture. The picture didn't recognize at first, but the more she thought about it, it all made sense.
"Percival-" she breathed.
''Medea..'' He said softly, reaching to take a hand in his, thumb brushing over the back of it.
Medea's fingers tightened in his as she stood, shaky. She watched Graves for a couple of seconds before wrapping her arms around him, pulling him close.
He breathed a little easier, more than happy to hold Medea back. The hug was tight and painful but he wouldn't have it any other way.
He could feel the bandages through the back of the shirt and he realized, startled, that she'd been shot and shouldn't be standing.
Pulling back, he gently guided her back to the bed. She still looked far too pale and her eyes had a glazed tinge to them.
Newt noted his look and said quietly, "she pulled the IV out, they're sending a doctor to put another one in."
"I'm fine." Medea insisted, shaking her head, her eyes hadn't left Graves' face.
The man took up the remaining space on the bed. "I'm okay, Medea." He said softly. "Just a couple of bruises."
Light fingers brushed over his cheek before pulling away as if his skin had burned.
"I'm so so sorry, Percival." Medea breathed, voice wavering.
"It wasn't you," Graves said immediately, "you wouldn't have done this, okay? It wasn't you."
Medea stood again, like she couldn't bear to stay sitting. She began to pace the small confines of the room.
"Medea," Tina warned quietly, "take it easy."
The whitehead waved a dismissive hand and continued stalking around.
''It's my fault!''She shook her head. "I'm dangerous, I'm a murderer, I deserve everything they want to do to me."
Graves watched anxiously as she walked. He knew that walk; the frantic, frenzied walk of someone in a lot of pain.
"Okay, anyone pissed off at you?" Graves asked."It might be just against you''
"That… might be a while."Newt said shifting uncomfortably, he found the offending item a very expensive looking shoe, he sent a glare in Medea's direction before throwing the shoe across the room where the heel immediately snapped off.
"Was that one of my Gucci heels,"spat Medea.
''I will buy you new one''Newt said with a mockingly sweet smile.
Although it was highly amusing watching Medea and Newt have a battle of their own , Graves noticed that her stress and fear were starting to get the better of her, causing her to start trembling in Newt's hold. Graves' eyes met Medea's worried gaze.
"Hmm, who do we have after you?" Newt mused, "CCPD, Russian mob, Italian mob.''
''The Santinis, Cobblepot, Madame Rolisha, most of Azkaban and Fox River Penitentiary, Falzone and his crew and a few unimportant people in Chicago." Medea responded. Graves paused for a moment before covering his face with a groan.
"Oh my god Medea, how can you even walk out the door without being shot?"Tina asked in confusion looking around.
"I'm starting to wonder the same thing." Newt muttered. Medea did that little head tilt thing she did.
She still didn't answer him and he saw, alarm shooting through him, red blooming across the front of the shirt. The next second, Medea stumbled down onto her hands and knees.
Tina and Newt were up in no time, crouching and carrying her between them to the bed. They got her laying down, Tina taking the pulse at her wrist as Graves stepped to the door and rapped a couple of times.
The door slid open and Director Graves not Percival, ordered them to send the doctor down. "Now." He spat before slamming the door in their faces.
He knelt beside Medea, him and Tina exchanging a worried glance. The whitehead was shivering violently, her eyes glassy and focused on nothing in particular. Tina was carefully pressing against her torso, her fingers wet with blood.
Less than a minute later, the door clicked open and a doctor came in, carrying a bag. There wasn't an awful lot of room so Graves reluctantly stood.
"Goldstean, Scamander, don't leave her," He said quietly, "I'll be back." He stepped through the door, every fibre of his being hurting to leave her behind.
Out in the hallway, Graves leaned back against the wall, taking a couple of deep breaths.
A figure flashed in the corner of his vision, ducking into a nearby room. Frowning, Graves pushed himself from the wall and followed the figure into the room.
He just knew.
He shut the door behind him, crossing his arms over his chest.
"We need to talk, Theseus."
"Run Alana! Please, run!"
Alana stared at hunter, terrified, watching as the slim woman struggled to hold off three large, heavy muscled men.
Nimoy
The same man they'd been trying and succeeding in evading for the past six months.
"Run!" The hunter screeched again and she turned to do as he said only to scream when two pairs of strong callous hands grabbed he arms tight enough to break it.
"Alana! Let her go!" Medea cried, gasping as one of the men grabbed her as well.
"Please!" She pleaded. "She had nothing to do with this!"
"They're not going to listen." She murmured softly, although it warmed her heart to see him begging for her life, it also mad it heavy. Medea Ace was a proud woman, she shouldn't beg.
"Wise woman." Came a deep voice and they all turned as another man entered the room.
He was tall, nearly 6'9, with long ice blond hair that fell to his shoulders and cold blue eyes a shade or two lighter that Medea's beautiful aquamarine hues. His skin was a deep bronze, as if he spent most of his time outdoors and was stretched taut over the tightly corded muscle that compacted his lean frame.
"Medea Ace Just the woman I was looking for." He greeted and John frowned.
"Nimoy-"She spat
"Nice to see you again ." He hummed softly."It's been so long since I've seen a woman so beautiful."The man said looking at Alana.
Medea began to struggled valiantly. "She had nothing to do with this! Any of it! Let her go, at least! Please!"
Nimoy hmmed thoughtfully and turned to her and she fought not to flinch at the look in his eyes.
He wasn't looking to just hurt Medea, he was looking to break her completely, and Alana could see it in her eyes. He was going to kill, but not before he did something so much worse.
He murmured and when Alana's clothes began to vanish, she started to struggle futilely despite knowing her fate. The entire time, Medea screamed and struggled, tears streaming down her cheeks as they finished with her and tossed her broken body to the ground. Alana tried to tell Medea she was okay, even as her voice shook and tears made their way down her cheeks but he only sobbed harder, saying the hunter was sorry 'so sorry' and begging her to forgive her. For not stopping it. Not being strong enough.
So sorry.
Sorry for everything.
A strange sense of tranquility overcame her and she fell limp as Nimoy gripped her by her hair and placed a gun to her head.
He murmured something to her but she didn't hear it and when the gun went off, she welcomed the blissful oblivion it brought with it.
Medea shot awake with a choked gasp, tears streaming down her cheeks as the images from her dream flashed behind her eyelids.
"I'm sorry!" Medea whimpered burying her hands in her hands.
"I'm so sorry. So sorry." She repeated softly, sobbing brokenly, her long white hair falling over her shoulders and into her face as if to hide her grief.
Newt found Medea in the gym. She was punching the bag furiously. All her emotions had turned to white hot rage and she needed to hit something or someone. So here she was, beating the crap out of the poor punching bag. Newt stood aside and let her unload her rage.
After a few long minutes, finally Medea stopped. She still was irritated, but she was out of breath and suddenly she felt that - What had Albus called it? Sudden fatigue? Yeah- sudden fatigue overcame her. She sagged to the floor and closed her eyes. Newt was by her side in an instant.
"You alright?"
"Give me a minute." Medea murmured as she rubbed her chest spontaneously.
Newt sat there silently, thinking about calling a doctor. But he knew that no one couldn't do anything to help Medea. So he let her just rest to get her strength back.
Finally, the hunter's hand fell from her chest and she took a deep breath. "I'm alright."
"OK. Let's move you to one of those chairs." Newt helped her up. "You wanna talk about it?" He asked as they sat on the chairs.
"I want to kill him." Her eyes quickly became focused and dark. "When I find him I'm going to kill him, Newt." It never was and never would be a matter of if she found the man. It was when. If it took her , her whole life, Medea would hunt down and kill Leonard Nimoy. She could only hope, pray, that Nimoy didn't reach Haley and Jack first.
"Good." Newt replied as seriously as Medea just had. He let the silence fill the room once again before speaking softly. "It's going to take time. This, uh, this was just a, uh, start."
"I know."
The words repeated like a mantra in her head sending trills of ice cold rage racing through her blood. Images of Alan's broken body flashed in her mind's eye, her screams ringing in the hunter ears, and phantom sensations of the Nimoy's touch crawled across her skin and that rage spiraled into a fiery inferno of pure blood lust.
Her hand tightened around the chair and a blood chilling smile crossed her lips.
Seems it was time to go ghost hunting.
And maybe this time..Nimoy would learn to stay dead.
Albus Dumbledore-Grindelwald loves nothing more than lazy mornings with his husband.
Gelleter's pancakes definitely come second, but those are wrapped in the package anyway, he thinks with a grin, tucking into the breakfast his husband had so lovingly prepared.
That said, around half way through their breakfast Gellert feels a tug in his gut that has him dropping the fork with a clatter. Eyes screwed in confusion as the tug sharpens into a light pain, he draws the attention of Albus, who frowns with concern.
"Babe? You okay?"
Gellert doesn't move, still assessing the strange sensation. Eventually he nods. "Yeah, just… got a bad feeling…"
"What kind of bad feeling?" Albus's frown deepens.
Gellert looks up at his husband. "Like something bad's gonna happen…"
The headmaster knows never to distrust Gellert's instincts, and nods. "We'll take it easy today; keep check on everyone."
It does nothing to ease the feeling in his gut, but Albus nods. "Yeah… okay…"
The rest of the breakfast lies forgotten.
Something had set Medea off.
Graves could see it as soon as the hunter entered the room. It was in the predatory grace if her gait, in the arctic tone of her voice, and the simmering blood lust in her eyes. The most telling sign, however was the dangerous snarl curling her lips as she sharpened her favorite knives, her favorite guns spread out in front of her.
Tina and her sister could see it too, having become nearly as attuned to the blond as Newt himself was over the years. They'd only see her in a rage twice but knew the signs well enough to recognize them and stay the hell away. The Italian's Aurors crew obviously did not, as Giselle Black and Steve Stark were both standing in front of the hunter with matching scowls on their faces.
She ignored them, sharpening the weapon in an almost vicious manner, her snarl worsening with each passing second.
FLASHBACK
"Well that's why I'm here, Graves." The older Scamander said, voice carefully managed, arms folded over his chest.
"Yeah well," Graves sighed, rubbing a hand over his aching forehead, "I am aware that you know had happened here two days ago with Medea and the fucking bomb"
Theseus finally spoke. "How is she?" His voice was gruff and Graves could see that his arms were crossed because his hands were shaking. He was also closely examining Percival's face, and more importantly, his injuries. "That thing nearly killed her, huh?"
The director shrugged, gesturing vaguely at his bruised up face. "I swore that woman is like a cockroach. Hard to been killed!''
''Just like her brother!'' Theseus murmured and for the first time since everything began to fall down, there was no bite to the blonde's voice.
''Who is her brother?''Graves asks out of blue.
The older Scamander shot upright and looked at the director with alarm.''What?''
''It's the second time you mention her brother''
A cold chill raced down Theseus's spine. "I dont know what you are talking about"
A ragged, disbelieving laugh erupted from Graves' mouth. "You are a liar!"
''I cant tell you, Percival''Theseus sighs. "The woman ca kill me…" He shakes his head. "It's Ace's story to tell."
It can't be soo bad," Graves mumbled.
"You are an idiot!" Theseus bellowed.
"What?!" Graves snapped.
''I don't want you to get hurt!'' Theseus said mulishly.''I am not blind, Percial, I hav seen the way you look at her and...''
''Just be careful''
END FLASHBACK
"FIDO!"
He started, immediately holding his hands up as a white flag. "What the bloody hell did I do now?"
Medea shook the parchment in his face. ''I can not believe that you told him about the accident?'' She threw up her hands, sinking into her chair in defeat.
Newt flushed red, whether from embarrassment or annoyance, Graves couldn't tell. "Accidet," Newt mumbled, refusing to look at her. "That thing tried to kill you."
''It's not the first time who someone try to kill me!''Medea hummed, chuckling dryly.
Medea laughed again, a little louder this time.
''The fact the two of you are friends both horrifies and fascinates me "
"Oh I am friend with him just because I want to fuck his brother "
"Medea" Newt growled halfheartedly at the hunter,Medea pouted and huffed but she did shush. Try as she might, the hunter found her gaze betraying her. It wasn't as if she wanted to watch the director flirt with the Italian Auror, but she wasn't able to ignore it. Despite all the distractions that the room provided, she found her attention constantly drawn towards his direction. She watched him with a frown on her face as she watched him chuckle with his companion. And when Giselle placed her hand on his arm, Medea stiffened.
"You okay, 'M?"
Forcing herself to focus on the person pulling her from the source of her unhappy thoughts, she placed a neutral expression on her face. "I am. I just ate something that doesn't…" Giselle had yet to remove her hand from Graves' person, "quite agree with me."
"If you're sure…" Newt said, not believing the lie that passed through his friend's lips.
"Of course," Medea denied. "What else would it be?"
Newt looked towards the direction that had initially captured Medea's interest.
Knowing that Newt was going to call her on her lie, she shook her head. "Please don't, B Fido. Not right now. I just…let me wallow in my self-pity and you can judge me tomorrow." She wouldn't be able to deal with the foreign feeling that welled up inside of her whenever she looked in Graves and Black's direction and deal with her friend's 'I told you so.'
"I need some air."
Not really satisfied with the outcome of their conversation, Newt nodded slowly. She certainly wouldn't make a spectacle.
Without another word to her friend, she made her way through the throng of people and moved out to the patio. The morning air was crisp, but it was a nice sensation after feeling so stifled in the crowded hall.
Something really wrong was with her, someone wants to kill her and the only thing that she can think is Graves and that stupid Italian bitch.
Oh God.
He supposes to be died and not walking around like the fucking Lazarus.
Nimoy will kill everyone to have Medea back
Her family.
Her friends
Her best male friend.
Her Percy.
Her what?
She moved towards the balcony. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she silently willed for all of her strength.
She wants to run toward in his arms and tell him everything about her but she was afraid of his reaction. Her brother may have done a lot of bad things but he is her brother, despite their bickering and the constant threats they spat at eachother, they can't be away from each other. She wants peace and maybe a happy life with Percival Graves if he ever forgive her if she tell him the truth about her real identity, but in the eyes of his The look of a man tortured beyond anything he'd ever imagined and forced to continue forward (even when everything in him yearned for the eternal rest).
He will never forgive her.
"You've been avoiding me today," Graves observed, her voice coming from a position close behind her.
Medea shrugged. "It wasn't my intention." It really hadn't. However, she wasn't eager to greet him, only to be ignored by him in favor of a potential bed partner. It had been bad enough seeing Giselle and Graves flirt from across the room.
Was that jealousy he detected in her voice? He wanted to call her out on it, but he didn't think it would be the wisest move. Instead, he settled for the obvious choice. "I've missed you," he admitted in a quiet tone.
His words hit her hard and she closed her eyes against the fresh wave of pain that enveloped her. Had he? He certainly hadn't acted like it. He hadn't bothered to fight her when she asked to their arrangement. Instead, he'd appeared as unmoved as ever. In the few times that they'd seen one another since then, he'd neither sought her out or avoided her…he just was there.
"Medea, what happened?"
She could only shake her head.
''Talk to me," he begged. "Please."
"Graves…" Medea said, drawing in a shaky breath. The vulnerability in h expression was scarier than anything he'd seen in his life. "That's enough."
''You are just like the others''Graves mumbled, catching Medea's attention.
''What?''She asked, raising an eyebrow.
The taller of the two just growled in response. "You heard me, you like to play with people and then trew them away when you take what you wan." He complained, crossing his arms around his chest. Medea could feel her eye twitch at the way he spoke, the bastard! Who does he think he is! Oh right, he's Percival Effing Graves.
"Shut up Percival."
But the other didn't listen, and he continued to complain about the hunter.
"Seriously, I thought that you were different but you are just a bitch you love to toy and kill people for fun"
Medea growled and clenched her fist so tightly that her nails dug into the palms of her hands, bruising them and causing them to bleed a bit.
"Shut UP Percival." She warned again through gritted teeth. But the director just continued.
"Honestly. You are just a slut who... "
She snapped and raised her hand, suddenly, the only sound in the air that could be heard echoing throughout the walls were the sounds of skin meeting skin, as Medea bitch slapped Graves with all she had.
His' head had snapped to the side on impact, his eyes wide in shock and confusion as a handprint was soon there to be seen. No one had EVER slapped Percival Graves before. Well, I guess there's a first for everything.
He turned his face, blue eyes meeting watery, sad and hurt honey-amber ones, as he slowly raised a hand to touch his now throbbing cheek. Medea had small tears threatening to leak from the corner of her eyes, his hand now stung from the impact of it meeting Percival's surprisingly smooth cheek.
"I said SHUT UP GRAVES!" She screeched, her angry and hurt tears now leaking, sliding down his cheeks like waterfalls.
Her eyes now stung, and it was all Graves' fault, why did he have to be such a damn jerk all the time.
"Medea..." Graves said softly, staring at the hunter in hurt, he lifted a hand and reached out for her, only to have it smacked away.
The two stared at each other intensely; balck in hurt and confusion, and honey-amber ones in hurt and rage. Before either of them could say anything, Medea turned on her heels and ran off, not wanting to stare at him anymore. He ran and ran, ignoring the man who was calling for her in the background. She just wanted to get away, she just wanted to run, and not see that jerk's face ever again. As she thought this, she ran to the one place he knows well, she ran to where he would always head to when she was alone and Newt was busy, where she would be with Albus and think back to when she spends time with her brother. She went to her special place that the others all knew where to find her...