The Repetition Series, Part 5
The Percy Arc: Repetition, Unspoken
Summary: Sometimes the more that is spoken, the less that is really said.
Warning: Incest. Percy/Ginny. Mentions of further incest.
Dedication: To kitsune, who listened to me ramble today, and to Durendal who is my everlasting beta and friend. Oh, and to Patrick Sullivan, Blaise, AssmonkeyBlack and my favorite family of purebloods.
-----
"Check the shelf over there, why don't you."
Ruffle and clunk of hardback novels being shifted.
"Hmm, can I take the Pirandello and the Donne?"
"Go ahead, I won't be reading them this week."
Scrape of a wooden chair leg against linoleum.
Short silence.
"Have you ever kept a diary, Percy?"
"No, I find them rather pointless."
"I used to keep them, before the Chamber.before Tom."
"Oh"
"I've been thinking of starting up again. One where I write down quotes from my favorite stories and poems."
"That sounds nice"
Gentle clink of china plates placed upon the table, followed by the patter of silverware.
"Where, like a pillow on a bed, A pregnant bank swell'd up, to rest. The violet's reclining head, sat we two, one another's best."
"I've read that before, Ginny"
His teeth grind against the buttery toast.
"I need the salt."
She leans over his lap to grab it and her hair falls just so, past her shoulder blades and below the crook of her elbow, and she looked just like Penny and Percy kissed her.
Mumbled gasps.
They push backwards, past doorframes, stumbling over end tables.
Back back back onto the small futon.
Skin to skin.
Creak.
Groan.
No words, no syllables, no sounds beyond the completely base and guttural.
It's dark, and Percy's hair has lost its auburn-red glow in the muted afternoon, shades drawn.
"Tom..Tom."
She moans.
Fingertips pressed in pale, sweat-shinned skin.
"..Fuck."
Dizzying lights in full purple-yellow behind almost transparent eyelids.
Gasped breathes, shuddering limbs.
They lie side by side. Breathe in, out.
Silence.
Silence.
"He did it to you."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Arthur.father.he ---"
"Shut up, Ginny."
" --- He did it to all of us, didn't he."
Not so much a question.
Silence.
Tears.
"He liked to whisper things to me."
"I said shut up, Ginny."
Heartbeat increases.
"Why should I?"
"Because I said so."
"After this..after us, we still can't talk about it."
Shifting, Percy rolls over to his side, faces the wall.
"No."
"Why don't you ever look at me anymore? Even just now, you didn't look at me once."
"Stop it, Ginny."
Tension.
Screaming, hands clenching over unresponsive shoulders.
"Look at me! Somebody has to look at me again! Nobody has --- "
Crunch-squeak of the mattress, body and arms flailing, skin connecting roughly with skin. Fingers curling around her throat and a rough palm covering half her face.
Tears.
"Stop it, Ginny, I said STOP IT"
Twisting, turning, heels digging into the mattress.
"Don't talk about it ever. Don't say another word. Nothing happened - "
Desperate sucking noises against taut skin, eyes open wide and rolling back.
"Nothing ever happened. Nothing"
Muscles, tendons stretching under thumb and forefinger. Heartbeat racing.
"Tom never happened. Bill never happened. Charlie never happened. The twins never happened Ron never happened I never happened You never happened - "
So tight and hot and no more air or breath or movement.
"We didn't happen. Ever."
Silence.
Silence.
"Ginny?"
Tears. Great gasping sobs. Pale limbs and blood-red hair past elbows. Limp. Lifeless. No words, no sounds beyond the most basic. Rocking back and forth.
No answer.
Summary: Sometimes the more that is spoken, the less that is really said.
Warning: Incest. Percy/Ginny. Mentions of further incest.
Dedication: To kitsune, who listened to me ramble today, and to Durendal who is my everlasting beta and friend. Oh, and to Patrick Sullivan, Blaise, AssmonkeyBlack and my favorite family of purebloods.
-----
"Check the shelf over there, why don't you."
Ruffle and clunk of hardback novels being shifted.
"Hmm, can I take the Pirandello and the Donne?"
"Go ahead, I won't be reading them this week."
Scrape of a wooden chair leg against linoleum.
Short silence.
"Have you ever kept a diary, Percy?"
"No, I find them rather pointless."
"I used to keep them, before the Chamber.before Tom."
"Oh"
"I've been thinking of starting up again. One where I write down quotes from my favorite stories and poems."
"That sounds nice"
Gentle clink of china plates placed upon the table, followed by the patter of silverware.
"Where, like a pillow on a bed, A pregnant bank swell'd up, to rest. The violet's reclining head, sat we two, one another's best."
"I've read that before, Ginny"
His teeth grind against the buttery toast.
"I need the salt."
She leans over his lap to grab it and her hair falls just so, past her shoulder blades and below the crook of her elbow, and she looked just like Penny and Percy kissed her.
Mumbled gasps.
They push backwards, past doorframes, stumbling over end tables.
Back back back onto the small futon.
Skin to skin.
Creak.
Groan.
No words, no syllables, no sounds beyond the completely base and guttural.
It's dark, and Percy's hair has lost its auburn-red glow in the muted afternoon, shades drawn.
"Tom..Tom."
She moans.
Fingertips pressed in pale, sweat-shinned skin.
"..Fuck."
Dizzying lights in full purple-yellow behind almost transparent eyelids.
Gasped breathes, shuddering limbs.
They lie side by side. Breathe in, out.
Silence.
Silence.
"He did it to you."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Arthur.father.he ---"
"Shut up, Ginny."
" --- He did it to all of us, didn't he."
Not so much a question.
Silence.
Tears.
"He liked to whisper things to me."
"I said shut up, Ginny."
Heartbeat increases.
"Why should I?"
"Because I said so."
"After this..after us, we still can't talk about it."
Shifting, Percy rolls over to his side, faces the wall.
"No."
"Why don't you ever look at me anymore? Even just now, you didn't look at me once."
"Stop it, Ginny."
Tension.
Screaming, hands clenching over unresponsive shoulders.
"Look at me! Somebody has to look at me again! Nobody has --- "
Crunch-squeak of the mattress, body and arms flailing, skin connecting roughly with skin. Fingers curling around her throat and a rough palm covering half her face.
Tears.
"Stop it, Ginny, I said STOP IT"
Twisting, turning, heels digging into the mattress.
"Don't talk about it ever. Don't say another word. Nothing happened - "
Desperate sucking noises against taut skin, eyes open wide and rolling back.
"Nothing ever happened. Nothing"
Muscles, tendons stretching under thumb and forefinger. Heartbeat racing.
"Tom never happened. Bill never happened. Charlie never happened. The twins never happened Ron never happened I never happened You never happened - "
So tight and hot and no more air or breath or movement.
"We didn't happen. Ever."
Silence.
Silence.
"Ginny?"
Tears. Great gasping sobs. Pale limbs and blood-red hair past elbows. Limp. Lifeless. No words, no sounds beyond the most basic. Rocking back and forth.
No answer.