Written For:
August Auction - Day 3/Auction 2: Asylum!AU (Gifted to Hufflepuff)
Writing Club/Bromance to Romance: 7. (word) Disguise
Writing Club/Showtime: 14. (plot point) Making a promise
Writing Club/Elizabeth's Empire: 1. (word) disguise
Writing Club/Amber's Anime Adventure: 15. (dialogue) "I want to go home."
Writing Club/Artist Appreciation: 4. (action) holding hands
Warnings: Parents being nasty homophobes, historic 'treatment' of homosexuals in asylums, all that stuff
Word Count: 1,781
When there was a knock on the door, Barty and Regulus looked over at each other. They were lounging on separate couches in front of the log fire in their little cabin in the woods, Barty reading from a large tome, and Regulus darning socks.
The knock came again—louder and more aggressive this time.
"Do you think it's your father?" Regulus asked softly as he put down his needlework. Barty and Regulus had only been living together for a short while, hiding out in Regulus's family cabin until they could find somewhere more permanent. When Barty Crouch Senior had threatened to have Barty locked away for his sinful misgivings (his definition of Barty's relationship with Regulus), Regulus had pulled Barty to safety.
"How would he know I'm here?" Barty whispered back. "Anyway...he shouldn't care anymore. I'm not embarrassing him anymore."
"Open up, or we will have to force entry." The voice was gruff and authoritative.
"Hide." Regulus's voice was barely a breath. Barty nodded and dropped his book, before skittering off the couch like a cat and disappearing into the adjoining room. Regulus stood up and brushed himself down. "Coming!" he called to the person at the door. He made his way over slowly, determined to give Barty as much time as possible to hide.
He turned the key in the lock slowly. Before he even had time to pull the handle, the door burst open, pushing Regulus back. He looked up at the uninvited guests—two burly men in white uniforms flanking a much smaller, thinner one. It was Barty's father, wearing his usual grey pinstripes and curling his lip under his thin moustache.
"Where is he?" Barty Senior asked softly.
"I don't know who you're talking about." Regulus folded his arms across his chest.
"Find him."
The uniformed men pushed past Regulus, straight into the adjoining room. Barty Senior strode across to where Barty and Regulus had been comfortably lounging not five minutes ago, and picked a coffee cup up from the coffee table. "Two cups." He gestured to Regulus's half-empty mug while holding the one Barty had been drinking from.
Regulus said nothing. He heard banging from the other room. "I hope your bodyguards aren't making a mess in there. This cabin belongs to my parents, you know." Regulus puffed up his chest and put on his haughtiest middle class voice, trying to embody his mother. "You do know who my parents are, don't you?"
Barty Senior looked unfazed. "Of course I do, Mr Black. It was your dear father who told me where to find this cabin, after all." He paused to drink in Regulus's shock. "You seem surprised. You see, your parents want to see the end of this...whatever it is...that you and my son are doing with each other."
There was a shout from the other room, and suddenly Barty was dragged out of the bedroom, held up by his arms by the two men. He was kicking and screaming, his eyes manic with anger when he spotted his father. "You!" he shrieked, trying to lunge at his father. "Why can't you just leave me alone? Get these men off me, you coward!"
"My dear boy." Barty Senior's words suggested he was being fatherly, but his voice held no love for his son. "You're very sick, you see. These gentlemen have come to take you away. To make you better."
"What are you suggesting?" Regulus hissed, trying to make his way over to Barty. One of the men used one hand to push Regulus back roughly, causing him to fall back on the couch. "Where are you taking him?"
"He's going to a special hospital," Barty Senior continued. "They will make him better."
Regulus jumped back to his feet as the men started to drag Barty outside. "Then take me too!" he yelled. "I'm just as guilty and sick as Barty, if that's what you're taking him for! Take me too!" He ran outside after them, angry tears running down his face. Barty was manhandled roughly into the back of a small white van. As soon as the doors slammed behind him, there was the sound of fists beating the inside of the van.
"Unfortunately your parents do not wish to see you succumb to the same fate," Barty Senior replied. "It would be very inappropriate, a person of your...aristocracy…"
"So how can you let them take your own son?" cried Regulus, aghast.
Barty Senior's face was as steely as his voice. "That boy is no son of mine," he hissed. "But I have roles to fulfil and expectations to upkeep." He turned on his heel and climbed in the front of the van after the two men.
As the van drove off, Regulus scrambled behind it, staring at Barty through the back window of the van. He had his hands pressed flat against the glass, and he no longer looked angry. He looked terrified.
"I'll find you!" Regulus yelled, running after the van until his lungs were burning. "I promise I'll find you."
Barty clenched his teeth around the rubber bar that had been thrust unceremoniously into his mouth. His father stood at the end of the room while a sharp-nosed nurse placed something over his head. He'd only been in this...hospital for two minutes, but apparently his father had 'fast-tracked' his treatment.
"He will need the full dose." Barty Senior said quietly.
"Mr Crouch, it's not recommended that we go to full voltage, not unless the doctor has specifically instructed us to, and he hasn't had the time to even meet your son yet, let alone assess him—"
"The full dose," interrupted Barty Senior.
The nurse opened her mouth to retort again, but apparently changed her mind. "Keep it in your mouth, or you will swallow your tongue." She instructed Barty, before turning to the machine beside her.
Barty Senior seemingly couldn't stomach waiting to watch his son be 'treated', as he left the room straight away. Once the door swung closed behind him, the nurse shook her head. "Full dose," she tutted, clucking her tongue. "He doesn't know what a full dose would do, clearly. You'll get the standard approved dose until the doctor says otherwise."
Barty mumbled through the bar in his mouth.
"It's okay, sweetie," the nurse continued softly. "I have to do this, but it'll only hurt for a moment."
She turned a dial on the machine, causing electricity to surge through the apparatus on Barty's head. He was mildly aware of his own screams, sounding as though they were miles away from him, before he lapsed into darkness.
"I want to go home!" Barty gasped at the doctor who was treating him today. He had no idea how many days he'd been at the asylum for by this point, but he was sure he'd been through all the torture methods the asylum had to offer.
"I can't help you with that until you're cured."
Barty said nothing, feeling fresh tears well up in his eyes. Today, the doctor had him connected to a drip through a needle in his arm. There was a medicine bag of a clear liquid hanging on the IV stand beside him, which was designed to induce instant sickness as soon as the doctor released the pressure on the wire.
"Look at these pictures again."
"No," Barty sobbed.
"Look."
Barty choked back a cry as he opened his eyes. The doctor was holding a handful of polaroids up in front of him. They were pictures that his father had obviously given to the hospital, so that they could be used for these nefarious purposes. The first one was of Barty and Regulus when they had graduated from boarding school, wearing their graduation caps and gowns. The second was of the pair sitting in the pub; Regulus had his arm thrown around Barty's shoulders and they were laughing. The third was much more personal, much more intimate, and Barty felt his face burning. He and Regulus were naked from the waist up in the picture, and they were huddled in bed together, with the blankets strewn over them. Regulus's hair was stuck to his forehead and his eyes were bright with excitement. He wasn't looking at the camera—he was looking lovingly down at Barty.
Barty knew what they had been doing right before he had snapped the picture, and the thought made his heart ache and his stomach flutter. As he gazed longingly at the image, the doctor flicked the clip on the drip, allowing some of the medicine to flow into Barty's vein.
After a few moments, Barty had to turn to the bucket beside him and vomit. He cried as he was sick, hating his father, hating the doctor, hating this place.
"I need the key for Room Three-Two-Seven."
Barty lifted his head from the flat mattress that he slept on. He had no idea what time it was—there was no light inside the asylum and no windows in his cell. He recognised the voice, but he was so tired. Was he imagining it?
"You should have your own keys."
"I've just been transferred from another hospital. The Matron told me to come and see you."
There was a pause from the orderly. "I don't know. I didn't get any instructions about this."
"It was a last minute transfer."
Before the orderly could respond, there was a surge of commotion from somewhere deeper within the asylum. "Oh, shit...what do you need the key for?"
"Doctor has requested a late-night treatment for this one."
Screaming sounded again, and Barty heard the sound of keys jangling. "Here, just take them all," the orderly rushed. "I have to go."
Barty crawled to the door from his mattress and pulled himself up to the door. Through the small barred window, he saw a familiar pale face—Regulus.
He was in disguise, wearing the white uniform that the orderlies wore and had his hair slicked back. Barty whimpered and pushed his fingers through the bars. Regulus grasped at his hands desperately. "I'm getting you out," he whispered. "I told you I'd find you."
Barty watched as Regulus thumbed through the ring of keys until he found the right one, and slotted it into the lock. He pushed the door open, and Barty threw his arms around Regulus as soon as he was able to, feeling the tears pour down his face.
"Let's go. I know a way out," Regulus whispered. "I had to knock out the guard and he should still be out cold."
Barty stifled back a laugh. "You knocked someone out," he murmured. "For me?"
Regulus held Barty tighter. "I would do anything for you."