The downhill slope

Part 1
Tom ran a hand though his hair and sighed, it had been a long day. He loosened his tie and flopped down hard on the small creaky bed, tossing aside his normal air of calm confidence. The heels of his palms pressed hard to his closed eyes.

The day hadn't gone as he planned.

He had lost Riddle.

He blindly reached for a pillow and tossed it across the room, screaming in a rage that had finally bubbled up.

FUCKING LOST HIM!

They had gone to see the Dark Lord, bring to his attention the deviousness of the Diadem Horcrux that had taken to calling himself Chidarim. The bastard had been syphoning energy from Tom and Riddle for months now, and had kept them from taking on their permanent physical forms. Had kept them weak. No wonder he could levitate as if it were nothing, he must have been brimming with power.

Tom had been furious. As soon as he had explained to Riddle the full implications of the magic Cidarim was using against them, his anger matched Tom's. Tom had initially wanted to take out the Diadem, but Riddle had convinced him that it was best to inform the Dark Lord.

"I found this." Tom placed the notebook on the desk of Lord Voldemort, open to the page of the spell Cidarim had cast. "He's been doing this to harm us, I know it."

"We wanted to make sure you knew," Riddle added, trying to sound neutral, though it was hard for him to contain himself.

Long fingers ghosted over a passaged and then He pushed the journal back. "Of course I knew, my loves. I was the one who told him to do this to you."

Tom paled, then his cheeks flushed with indignation.

Riddle, who had always been more passionate with his feelings, exploded at this betrayal. Tom didn't hear his words, he felt like he was in a vacuum. He only stood there dumbly as Riddle threw his hands in the air and paced with fury. All the while noticing the frown deepen on His mouth.
Riddle was too caught up, he wasn't noticing.

Tom tried to snap himself out of his stupor, but by the time he reached out to stop Riddle it was too late.

Voldemort had his wand out, pointing it under Riddle's chin. He shot a quick glance at Tom and, with an iciness he had never heard, told him to take his leave.

It took everything in him not to sprint from the chambers. When outside he disapparated with a pop.

Dread filled him as he walked up to their flat.

With a flutter Tom finally opened his eyes, and glared at the ceiling. He needed a plan, because he was going to get Riddle back and they were going to destroy this fucked up dynamic their older self had created. Lord Voldemort's time was coming to an end, there was going to be a new order.

Part 2
Silence felt overwhelming between them. Riddle glared daggers at his lordship and, in turn, the Dark Lord was all too willing to glare murderously back. After Tom had been rather unceremoniously dismissed, it only left the two of them, contending between feelings of rage and betrayal.

"How dare you do this." Riddle snapped. The tip of the Dark Lord's wand dug a fraction deeper into his neck, but the rage coursing through him would not allow Riddle to back down. "You know how hard I've worked to collect that energy. I've been tireless in my efforts! Unwavering in my loyalty!" His voice had grown curter, the edges of his words more jagged as he went along. "You used me and you hid the truth all this time! You had me laying like some common bitch!" Riddle spat, seething with anger, about to shove the wand tip away. "How dare you-"

Riddle choked, the chain from the locket tightening around his neck. The world seemed to swirl before his eyes before he realized that he had hit the floor. Hard. Somewhere behind them, Riddle heard the telltale signs of an all too familiar bookshelf creaking out of place to reveal a rather mundane looking hidden doorway. For all of the lack of flashy magic, Riddle gasped, his eyes widening in terror.

"N-No!" He cried, clawing at the ground, his voice strained from the tightening chain. "You can't do this! I won't be silenced!" He shrieked as the Dark Lord's magic seemed to effortlessly, wordlessly drag him forward to the room. "I gave you everything!" Riddle cried as though it mattered.

Voldemort motioned with his wand and Riddle ceased to exist. In the place of the beautiful, broken man on the ground was a heavy locket, inlaid and glimmering enticingly with emerald gemstones. The Dark Lord picked it up, holding it aloft for a moment and looking down at it with an exhausted listlessness. A touch of regret? A modicum of remorse? Or maybe just disappointment. He stepped through the door to reveal a small alcove and a neat pedestal. He placed the locket on the pedestal and cast the proper, power draining wards before leaving, closing and hiding the room once more.

One day passed. The rage filled pulses of angry energy emanating from the hidden doorway were stifling and overwhelming. The betrayal was still keenly felt, it seemed.

A second day passed. The feeling faded, shifting into a weakened re-consideration of previous actions, a general feeling of lethargy.

A third day passed. There was the subtle feeling of pleading.

The fourth day was silent.

Lord Voldemort waited a week and a half before he opened the door once again. He withdrew the precious jeweled locket and carefully removed it from its pedestal and out of the room, away from the draining wards and the thick, cloying, dark magic he had cast. Whispers of power emanated from it, yet only in shadows and echoes. The subtle heartbeat of the locket was barely present, and yet the Dark Lord seemed all the more empowered for it. Perhaps even because of it.

He settled into his usual reading armchair and slipped the locket around his own neck. It only took a moment longer before ghostly pale fingertips ran tentatively along the chain, settling on his shoulders, trembling in both fear and anticipation. A silence settled, yet this one remarkably different. This one was unquestioningly controlled by the most powerful.

When he finally deemed it appropriate, the Dark Lord sighed and peered down at the figure before him. Riddle had taken form as much as he could manage. The locket was barely a ghost, sitting upon the Dark Lord's lap and looking pleadingly up at him. His lips were moving, as though he were chanting, yet his voice was below a whisper, even in the close proximity they were holding. The Dark Lord put his hand on the other's cheek, letting the contact give him just a wisp of energy to give him a voice.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean a word of it. Please, believe me." Riddle continued on, his eyes wide, fearful as he clutched at the chain as though it would bring him some sense of comfort.

"You cannot let this happen again." The Dark Lord articulated slowly.

"No. Never again. I would never. My heart, my soul, I would not betray you. Please, believe me. Please, I am so sorry." Riddle was silenced by a single finger placed on his lips. He paused, trembling, willing himself not to glance fearfully at the doorway. They stayed there in controlled silence as Riddle slowly began to fade once again, those ghostly translucent fingers slowly relinquishing their hold on the chain, on his master.

Finally, the Dark Lord's expression softened considerably as he reached out to pull Riddle back into existence, stroking along his cheek and hair. The horcrux had barely taken form, and yet his beauty and appeal were still apparent even beyond a shadow of a doubt. "No, you won't." The Dark Lord confirmed. With a huge sigh of contented relief, Riddle was finally allowed the energy to take form. Gulping down shaky breaths, he found himself suddenly thankful at the prospect of even having lungs to breathe with. Taking the Dark Lord's hand in his own, he kissed it over and over again, holding it as though it were reverent, precious.

"You will faithfully serve me." The Dark Lord continued, his voice soft with understanding as he took Riddle's chin and lifted his attention back up to meet his eyes. "There is far too much at stake now for these childish games, Riddle. You know this. I punish you for your own good. I hurt you because I care." He looked expectantly at him.

Riddle nodded weakly, whispering. "I deserved it. You care for me, that's why I must be punished. I was a fool."

"And I need you to help me now, do you understand?" The Dark Lord's voice was soft as velvet now.

Riddle nodded even more vigorously, looking with longing at his more powerful counterpart.

"You're the one that will be my eyes and ears. All of your brothers fight among one another. You must be there to bring peace, to take note of all those who may be against that peace. You will keep an eye on Tom, will you not? I know how much of a connection you share with him." He paused, looking expectant once again.

"Yes, of course. Yes, I will bring the peace. I will bring peace for you, my lordship." Riddle breathed, his body filling with euphoric energy even as they spoke, the sensation and thrill of being alive, having a body at his disposal was pleasure beyond words.

There was silence between them once again, a silence of hard won battles, of dominance, subservience and acceptance. There was a mere breath of space between the two of them. Riddle's voice was strikingly timid, unsure and so very much unlike him when he spoke again. "Did you miss me?"

"Every single night, my beautiful trinket." He leaned close, their lips met. Riddle finally felt complete.

Part 2.5, Meanwhile - Thanatos
"Hello Tom Riddle."

Thanatos, normally relatively calm and collected, found himself looking around wildly in his foggy, ill-lit surroundings for the source of the voice. Eventually, his eyes settled on the boy, no older than ten, who stood before him.

"Who are you?" he demanded, struggling to believe that the inhuman voice came from someone so small.

"A friend. A stranger," the creature (Thanatos refused to regard him as a human, let alone a child) responded. He began to circle Thanatos, his pace slow and calculating. "I can assure you we've met, although I highly doubt you would remember. You were only a baby, after all. But your mother's time was long expired, and I was merely doing my duty."

Thanatos tensed at his words, digging his nails into his hands in an attempt to contain his anger. He didn't have to say anything, his face displayed his obvious rage.

"Since the moment you understood your own mortality, I've been with you. Lurking in your mind, haunting your every thought," Death continued. He smiled, a chilling curve of the lips, made even more unnerving by the young appearance he held. "Ironic, isn't it? That the name you took is one of my own? Perhaps, despite your innate fear of me, you wanted me to come. Perhaps you thought if you met me, you'd be able to find a way to delay the inevitable."

Fear turned to defiance as Thanatos glared at his companion. "If you have come to take me, I refuse to go. I've been given yet another chance, and I will not be wasting it. As long as I exist I will defy you."

Death sighed, aging himself to become a mirror of the other's form. "If I wished to take you, I would have done that by now. You see, the situation is much more complicated than even /you/ can comprehend, Tom Riddle. When you split your soul, you made it irritably difficult to collect you. If any part of your soul was to be destroyed, disaster would befall us both. I would not be able to have my bounty, but you, you would fare much worse. You would be trapped in a place more horrible than your wildest nightmares. There would be no power or glory, no living nor dying. Only pain and illusions. It would be worse than your time in my resurrection stone, with the added notion of no hope to escape. Therefore, I am here to make a deal." He paused, letting the information sink in.

Minutes passed before Thanatos spoke, hesitantly. "What exactly are you offering?" As detestable as it was dealing with the ghosts, he couldn't bear the thought of being somewhere worse.

"Simple. I wish for you to become an….avatar of mine. An extension of my being, so-to-speak. Obviously I want all of you, but you will suffice for now, as you seem to be the only one I am able to contact at this time. You would have your immortality, and will be able to use your particular talent of inventing creative ways for one to die. I admit I have found that quite amusing in my observations of you."

Thanatos stared at him in shock. Death was offering him what he so desperately desired? Was this a trick? Nothing in all of his extensive research mentioned anything like this. Death did not just offer immortality. "I assume there is some sort of payment?"

Death grinned, a flash of a skull seen in that brief moment underneath his face. "Naturally. Nothing is ever free, after all. There are things you would have to give up, but they would be gradual. In the event that you agree to my terms, I will tell you. But know that, once you say yes, it is binding forever. Even if your answer is no, I will wait. I am patient and I have a feeling you will change your mind, especially when you discover what has happened to your locket counterpart."

Death began to fade away as the world around them shifted and began to disappear. "I will let you remember this meeting of ours. Take your time to make your decision. I will await you here."

Thanatos awoke with a start.

Part 3
Riddle wandered in, walking slowly and carefully in measured steps, as though trying to keep his entrance both quiet and natural. Unfortunately, Riddle was anything but subdued and the effort did not suit him. "Tom, did you miss me?" He said with a small smile.

Toms head snapped in the direction of the voice, his eyes wide and his heart racing. He dropped the book he had been reading and it clattered to the ground, but he didn't pay it any attention. "You're back?" He sounded disbelieving.

"Of course I'm back! Where else would I go?" Riddle laughed, though there was something remarkably tired about him, between the unnatural paleness of his skin and the way he seemed all too willing to avoid his usual attention grabbing ruckus. "How have things been since I was away, hmm?" He asked, making it sound like some kind of unconventional holiday he had gone on.

Tom's eyes narrowed, Riddle looked almost sick. He ignored the question and moved closer to his taller self. "What happened to you?" He reached a hand up to place a hand on Riddle's pale and sallow cheek. It wasn't just his physical appearance. Something was off, his presence normally filled the room, and he look awkward and meek. Anger flared up in Tom, it must have been worse than he imagined. "What did he do to you?"

Part 4
"Get some sleep!" said as Thanatos as he tried to gently tug Riddle to bed.

"Don't be ridiculous, dear. I'm fine." Riddle grumbled, rubbing his eyes in annoyance as he tried to stifle a yawn. He needed to continue his studies for the Dark Lord's sake, and these books needed his full attention. He heaved a sigh and continued doggedly on.

"You've never been so dedicated in your studies before, Riddle. Not even for the Dark Lord. What happened during the week and a half you were gone? Is there something you're punishing yourself for? You almost never collect energy the way you used to, if at all, and what energy remains goes into exhausting yourself on his behalf. What did he do to you?" Thanatos couldn't help but notice his brother's ashen face. With his pallid complexion and dark rings under his eyes, it would be easy to mistake Riddle for a phantom.

It didn't seem like Riddle intended on relenting in his studies, so Thanatos instead sighed and walked to the kitchen. He poured the last steaming cup of tea into a mug, but not before adding a bit of his (technically the stone's) energy to the mixture. He returned to Riddle's side, setting the cup down next to him. "This should help you stay awake if you insist on staying up all night."

—
Riddle gave him a tired smile. "Who else would I be working for, hmm?" The statement might have been biting if Riddle hadn't been looking up at his counterpart so fondly. The concern in his voice was refreshing, even if he knew it was quite fake. They were sociopaths, after all. "I'm not as exhausted as I look, but I really do need to get this work done. It's nothing to be concerned over, Thanatos. I promise you. I'm fabulous, as per usual." He laughed, turning the page of his book and settling down to reading once again.

The cup of tea was set before him and he couldn't help but feel a hint of relief. Thanatos seemed to be thinking on his toes and for that, Riddle was overwhelmingly appreciative. "Thank you, dear." He commented before picking up the mug and taking a sip.

What…the hell?

The energy hit him as though he had just swallowed molasses. He choked, gasping, feeling the surge through his body, cloying and addictive. He had the urge to ravenously consume the rest of the drink in a heartbeat and at the same time, the fear and common sense to know that this energy was not his, not familiar. Foreign. Dangerous. He looked up at Thanatos' understanding expression, his own face tight with anxiety and fear he had not meant to slip through the cracks of his own carefully constructed facade.

"What was that?" He demanded, his voice shaking with the burst of power he had just consumed and the horror of where it may have come from.
—

"Energy I have been generously given," he answered, fingering the ring on his hand. He was lucky, not having to depend on their lord for an energy source, although it still had its costs. "There is no reason to depend on our lord, brother. He is mad, perhaps the most mad of us all. He only makes time for us when he is bored with his Death Eaters. He has abandoned us, his most trusted consorts."

"Tom has been worried about you in your absence. You've changed, but you won't tell anyone what happened when you disappeared. I assume Tom has an idea of what went on, but he will not tell me anything. Even the little bird seems to know something more than I do. To be blunt, I do not trust our lord. He abuses our distrust of the world and spins it so the only person we trust is him. He holds control over us, something I know we all despise. No Tom Riddle likes to be controlled, whatever form we are in."

Riddle locked eyes with his counterpart, yet he couldn't bring himself to believe what he was hearing. It was exactly what he had suspected, exactly what he had feared, but to actually see his fears recognized in such a blatant, bold way was something he could not have ever dreamed of. They all tended to work in secrecy, in applying strategies and manipulation. They never worked in the obvious.

It was like murder in the light of day: simply distasteful and uncomfortable to a certain degree.

Riddle tried to keep calm. This energy that coursed through him was sickeningly sweet, overpowering and obsessive. Even as they spoke, Riddle longed to grab the mug and down the contents (not to mention pouncing on the next best source, Thanatos himself). He took a deep breath. "You tricked me. You fooled me into consuming this power. Why would you do such a thing?" Even now, he fought his urges, folding his hands before him to keep them from shaking from the rush of energy and the adrenaline.
—

"Because it was necessary." Thanatos knew he was being vague, but he didn't care at the moment. He just wanted Riddle to know. To know how painful it was to see him so dependent on someone so fair-weathered. He sighed. "I don't know. I just want to help you."

—
Riddle's eyes narrowed dangerously as he processed the meaning behind those words to the best of his ability. He wanted to help…

"Do you pity me, Thanatos?" He articulated carefully, trying ignore the pull of the energy at his fingertips. "Do you think me weak?"

"No. Not on purpose, at least. I know you are not inherently weak. But I fear that someone else may be deliberately trying to make you so. As I said before, you've been denying yourself. Going against your natural tendencies."

He wasn't sure he was getting through to Riddle, but a seed planted was better than nothing.

Riddle was carefully quiet, listening as Thanatos attempted to make his connection, his justification, his flimsy explanation.

"You must think me quite simple." His glare was venomous as his smile was sickeningly sweet. He gathered up his books and moved to leave.

But there was no denying the uncertainty that lay within Thanatos' words. If his Lordship was trying to make Riddle weak, then Tom was correct: they were being made fools of. If not, than Tom, and anyone who had moved against the Dark Lord was forfeit. Riddle was caught dangerously between, at risk of being pulled apart.

Part 4.5, Meanwhile- Tom
Tom sat huddled in a shack. It was not much larger than the pitiful room Ava had provided him, but it was in a state so sorry he wondered why he had picked it in the first place. The wind howled, rain thundered on the tin roofing.

He was cold.

He was miserable.

He was on a mission.

One that, unfortunately, required him to restrict his magic. They could track him if he cast even the most simple of spells, and he wasn't willing to risk it. Not after he had finally cut ties with them.

His heart ached.

Part 5

After a long night out, and an even longer day, Thanatos finally returned to the flat and entered the secret wing where he currently resided with his 'brothers'. Digging into the pockets of his cloak, he fished out a half-eaten chocolate bar. He broke off a small piece to eat as he made his way to what he assumed was his room. Even if it wasn't, he was too tired to care at the moment. He just wanted to take a short nap before returning to his work. There was still so much to be done, even at such a late hour. He hoped Riddle wasn't lurking about. Riddle had been extremely moody lately and Thanatos was not feeling up to dealing with his sulky nature at the moment.

—
He wasn't bitter. Riddle kept telling himself that as he went through the usual motions of running the fortress. His lack of replenished energy was dragging on him. The familiar feeling of fatigue, exhaustion and irritability giving his usual smooth, dulcet tones a snappish nature. All the while his brothers accounted for other various activities that needed to be accomplished around him.

Various activities, indeed.

Thanatos had been absent for far too long. If Riddle even tried to reach at the tentative link he held with his Lordship, the Locket could bitterly sense that he had already been satisfied. It didn't take a mastery of addition to put the two together, and it didn't take weathering this time apart from his main source of power and comfort any easier to know he was so easily, so quickly replaced.

This was probably why Riddle couldn't quite help himself when he heard someone enter his quarters. He jumped, hoping against hope that it was him and finding, with disdain, that it was Thanatos instead. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he watched that idiotic trinket enter, unnoticed by his counterpart. He stepped smoothly into the room from the shadows, a wicked smirk playing at his lips, yet his face just a touch too pale to be considered 'healthy'. "Well, well, well! Thanatos, what a surprise." He purred. "Yet you look so dreadfully exhausted. One wonders what you've been up to all this time."

Great. It was just his luck that the room he had absently wandered into was Riddle's. And to make matters worse, Riddle seemed to be bent on being a pain in the ass. Thanatos was already exhausted, he didn't want to deal with this right now.

"Our lord called, and I answered. Simple as that," he responded irritably. He probably should have felt more sympathy for his older self, given Riddle's gaunt pallor, but Riddle was just so damn aggravating it was hard for anyone to be kind. "He wanted to do some more of his experiments on me. They left me drained, so just fuck off, okay? I'm not in the mood."

He briefly wondered if it would be possible to sneak off and retire to his room. Sometimes he had to question his lord's judgment when it came to allowing Ava to house them all in one place. So far nothing good had come of it.

—
Riddle gasped dramatically as Thanatos threw callous words in his direction. How very crass and ridiculously low class of him. Didn't he know better? They were leaders of the poor, puny mortals of this world, they had to set an example.

"Such language, Thanatos! Really, now, was that necessary?" He chided, moving closer to his counterpart.

Riddle was all too familiar with his lordship's mastery and experimentation. He felt anger bubbled up within him as he fought to contain his rage, to control himself. "So interesting, that you should even be called on with your nature being so questionable and…unpure." Riddle's lips curved into a wicked smile.
—

Thanatos very uncharacteristically rolled his eyes. He was too tired for this. "I don't see anyone worth performing for," he responded, eyeing Riddle warily. "Unlike you, I see no need to keep up a charade in the privacy of my quarters."

The purity comment cut, but two could play at this game. "Our lord decides who is questionable and unpure, not you. Besides, it is because of my intriguing nature that he calls on me. Unlike you, with whom he seems to have lost interest. I believe that would be the best indicator of worthiness here."

Riddle's smile vanished, replaced by an unbridled look of rage which marred his beautiful face. "Indicator of worthiness?" He snapped, looking venomously at his counterpart, closing in on him until he was far too close for comfort.

"Who is it that attends to our fortress? Who deals with our Followers when his Eminence is away? Who is it that ensures the unquestioning dedication of the Death Eaters and their undying love? Tell me that, trinket!" Riddle's hungry expression was all the more threatening when framed in rage.

"You're nothing to him. A diversion, a passing fancy…" he paused savoring the word before whispering "A freak. He'll soon tire of you." He looked over his young form with a smirk of amusement.
—

Thanatos visibly sensed. Despite his discomfort at the lack of space between them, he couldn't let Riddle win. "I'm not the trinket, Riddle. You are. My home is a relic of power that you cannot even fathom. Yours is nothing but a charming accessory. Even after given new meaning by our lord, your power is limited, nothing like the endless bounty of mine." He spoke calmly, a simmering anger behind his voice. "I may be a freak, but I'm still better off than you."

—
Personal bubble issues? Riddle had almost forgotten that phase of his life. Yet, he would have thought that after his time spent 'experimenting', Thanatos would have finally gotten over himself, yet here he stood, tense as ever as Riddle drew closer. Testing him, he ran a fingertip slowly across Thanatos' collarbone.

"You dare insult the legacy of Salazar Slytherin himself? You forget your own bloodline, Thanatos." He hissed, his voice a velvety soft whisper, his eyes more threatening than ever. "You think yourself above the greatness that has come before us? All of that tea and chocolate has gone to your head. That 'artifact of power' has made you delusional, corrupted you into something filthy."

The fingertip moved slowly upwards, traveling along Thanatos' pale neck, softly, lovingly. "He's my source of power, you know. He provides it to me personally and I won't stand for you getting in my way."
—

Thanatos forcibly knocked Riddle's hand away. "Don't touch me," he growled, backing up slightly in hopes of putting distance between himself and Riddle.

"I am no filthier than you, /brother/," he continued angrily. He curled his hands into fists to resist the urge to strike Riddle across the face. "My ring has been just as treasured as your locket. Besides, do you really think that Salazar Slytherin wanted his bloodline to end up like that wretched uncle of ours? Living in filth and squalor? No. We did him a favor by liberating this ring.

Then again, it is not like Voldemort cares about you. After all, you bear the name of our disgusting muggle father. You let him control you and keep you starving for energy and attention. He knows how badly you need his energy, yet he has given you neither. Maybe he has finally realized what you are to him. Nothing but a burdensome leech."

Thanatos was scrounging around for details to throw back at him. Even swatting away Riddle's hand had been a subtle plea for distance. He could tell that his counterpart wanted nothing more than to get away, but Riddle wasn't having it. He stepped forward after him, closing the space yet again, reveling in his minute advantage.

But then he said it.

The questions poured out of Thanatos' mouth. Rage bubbled beneath the surface, barely veiled by shock as the words kept washing over him. Why this name that Tom had hated so much in the past? Why this beautiful, alluring physicality that Tom had been so keen to destroy as soon as he could? The Locket was created at the turning point between charismatic leader and fearful overlord. Riddle was the last whisper of manipulative beauty, the last echoes of tactful navigation through social circles for power and connections.

It had been Riddle's efforts, way back then, which had gained Voldemort's foothold among high society. Riddle's careful, clever and alluring presence that had made him the talk of the town, the most beloved of the upcoming new faces.

Riddle remember hating every second of it, remembered how his skin crawled every time he was forced to be a gracious, pretty little toy for the higher society to position and marvel at. He remembered creating the locket with the purpose of leaving all of that behind.

That's what Riddle was then: beauty, manipulation and lust. A tool for collecting loyalty and attention, while his better efforts were directed elsewhere.

"Shut your damned mouth!" Riddle shouted, looking about ready to snap, the hunger turning him nearly animalistic in his rage. "You know nothing! You speak nonsense and you threaten our cause!"
—

"Then enlighten me," Thanatos replied shakily. He found himself breathing hard out of fear as his back hit the wall behind him. He didn't understand what nerve he had hit. There was such a vast amount of differences that separated them. The most prominent being how often Riddle used touch and seduction. Thanatos could do charming as well as the rest of them, but he chose to keep his distance like Tom. Riddle on the other hand, he used his brand of charm so often it was honestly scary. Sometimes Thanatos found himself wondering what it would be like to gain that sort of attention.

—
Riddle noticed the fear. He felt the quickening of Thanatos' breath and could almost hear his counterpart's heart hammering in his own ears. Strange, how a passion for anger and fear was so deceptively close to a passionate exchange in general. Riddle would know, wouldn't he?

The anger, the self-loathing came back in waves and Riddle felt a shudder run through his lithe form. He slammed his hand into the wall just beside Thanatos' head, unwilling to strike at the other man, yet unable to let his anger slip through his fingers.

"He gives me what power I need. I have no right to ask for more, but I won't have you stealing away what's rightfully mine!" He was speaking in a mad, violent whisper now. "I've been punished when I was deserving of it. You know nothing of sacrifice, Thanatos. You're a child. A distraction."
—

Thanatos flinched as Riddle's hand crashed into the wall beside him. It reminded him too much of his lord when he was angry. However, Thanatos would gladly take that anger, as it was a way to test his limits. Not to mention that he often earned that anger in his tendencies towards defiance.

"You are wrong, Riddle. Don't think you're the only one he punishes. He punishes me too. I think he's scared of losing me as a counterpart, as I can't take his energy. He's tried many times to force it on me, but it doesn't stick. It's a waste of his time, but he doesn't believe me…" He trailed off, not sure how to continue.

—
The sensation came suddenly, it gripped at Riddle's stomach and twisted into a tight knot. It pulled at him, tugging at what little he knew of the emotions he could muster. Fear mixed with self-loathing. Confusion married to horror. Paranoia pervading over like a miasma and it certainly wasn't stemming from him.

Riddle concentrated. Yes, just as he had suspected. Thanatos…

As the younger man spoke, it was clearer and clearer exactly how young his counterpart really was. Barely two decades old at the time that he had made the Ring, his naiveté was as clear as the discomfort on his counterpart's face. Their Lordship had clearly put him through some rather trying tests, but his reasoning had been sound…to an extent…

Riddle was angry with his counterpart, but he could not imagine losing part of his own soul to his overwhelming rage. That was simply foolhardy nonsense.

"He won't believe you. I'm not entirely certain that I believe you." Riddle's smile was neither biting, nor malicious. It was exhausted, perhaps a touch exasperated. "Perhaps it is better for you that he is afraid of losing you. It keeps the threat of your artifact more pressing than ever in our mind." A pause, a longing sigh. "He'll never fear for losing me. He gives and he takes. Some days, he's generous. On others, not quite so much." Riddle laughed softly to himself.

"If I've angered him, he takes everything from me." Riddle paused once again, biting his tongue, realizing that he'd said far too much, his eyes staring through his counterpart. "Don't anger him. Let him do as he needs. He knows best. He must."
—

"I-If you'd like, I could maybe try to talk to him. Tell him that you need his attention…" Thanatos found himself staring at Riddle in shock at his sudden calm. "But what do you mean when you say he takes everything from you?" His expression moved to one of confusion and exhaustion. Death apparently had chosen not to interfere with Voldemort's experiments, so Thanatos was running on a much lower amount of energy than usual.

There was a look in Riddle's eyes, a spark, a lingering hope that lit up his pale face. It was as though there was something with Thanatos that was willing to understand, rather than ridicule. Willing to see sympathy were there was only weakness. But it passed with a gentle sigh and a shake of his head. He stepped back smoothly, despite his exhaustion, his movements fluid and concise.

"I've said too much." Riddle laughed, his dazzling smile masking and replacing the show of emotion all too easily to something more alluring, more distracting. "You should get some rest." He commented turning on heel to walk away, perhaps a touch too quickly.

He'd revealed far too much. Far too much this time. He should not have risen to the bait. He should not have opened his mouth. He should not have threatened his counterpart. The Dark Lord would not be pleased with him. Not at all.
—

"Wait!" Thanatos reached out almost desperately. "What happened when you were gone? Tom's barely left his room since he returned and refuses to see anyone or say anything."

—
Riddle couldn't manage to meet his eyes. To admit to the fact that Tom and his stores of power were being siphoned off and stored away was tantamount to telling his counterpart that he was continually in a weakened state. It certainly wasn't a lie, but it was far from the whole truth.

The whole truth included Riddle speaking out, rather 'vividly', against it and paying the price for it. Tom had disappeared into his own work since, and Riddle was left with the crippling fear that it could happen again at any time.

"None of that is your concern. None of it has to do with you." Riddle couldn't help his accusatory tone, particularly because of his creeping suspicion was that the power would be used to defend the lot of them against death itself. "You're creeping into dangerous territory."
—

"We are counterparts. Of course it's my concern. Despite my…special nature, I can't betray my brethren. Death won't take us, even if I have to be the sacrifice." He moved closer to Riddle, hoping that he came off as intimidating. When Riddle had unexpectedly backed down, it gave him a spark of courage. "I can't allow our lord to continue treating us like playthings. Tell me what has been going on. No one is talking, and I hate not knowing!"

—
It was jarring to be intimidated by a face so familiar yet so very different. Only a scant few years separated them and yet, Riddle felt as though he were staring at an entirely different individual. In essence, he was though. Their experiences from here on forward separated them dramatically. He had no idea what 'Death' was planning, just as Thanatos had no inclination as to how Riddle and Tom were being used.

Pawns in a game. Very expensive playthings. He's not incorrect. He's closer to the truth than he's ever been. Dare Riddle tell him…?

Riddle stood his ground, glaring back venomously but his energy was wearing thin and he didn't have the power to shove Thanatos away. "You're a sacrifice? What do you mean? It seems I'm not the only one keeping secrets…"
—

He wasn't sure if he could trust Riddle with his secret, but if it would get him the information he wanted…

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours. I assume that's a fair trade." He paused for a moment, thinking of how best to explain his situation. "The energy I draw from, it allows me to work independently from our lord. Unfortunately, seeing as it comes from Death himself, it doesn't come without strings attached. It seems that, like our lord, Death is not above cutting those under him from their power source. I found this out the hard way, during a mission for our lord.

However, Death offered me immortality in exchange for becoming an avatar of his. But don't worry. I made sure it's only binding to me. Death cannot take any of us. Our lord, naturally, was fascinated at my predicament after he got over his initial shock."

Riddle fought to keep the shock from his face. An 'avatar' of death? He had never even known that death could be a sentient being and now he was learning that it had other beings which it controlled? Riddle gulped hard, concentrating on not allowing his panic to overwhelm him.

Death was around them. Death was within them. To a certain extent, death had always been watching them and waiting. "Or it means that Death has taken all of us." Riddle couldn't keep the gravity from his tone as he whispered to his counterpart.

"Thanatos, is there a way to overthrow him? Your…secondary master?" Admitting that Death incarnate was leading part of his own being felt wrong on so many levels, and yet this could become a prime opportunity. More power could be had from this lesion.

He carefully kept away from his own secrets, playing his cards close and hoping that Thanatos' diverted attention would leave it entirely forgotten.
—

"That's likely one of the reasons why our lord choses to perform experiments on me." Thanatos didn't go into any more detail, nor elaborate on what he suspected death to truly be: a force of nature made up of an army of avatars.

He turned and looked Riddle in the eye. "I've upheld my end of the bargain. Now it is your turn. What did our lord do to you?"

Damn it.

Thanatos didn't seem at all deterred from asking over and over for the truth of the matter in Riddle's prolonged punishment.

He destroyed me. He rendered me to my lowest form. He taught me the meaning of the word 'trinket'.
Riddle couldn't bring himself to say it aloud. It was too shameful, too upsetting, too weak. He sighed, looking to his counterpart pleadingly, those beautiful eyes focusing all too keenly on Thanatos as he softly, fondly touched his cheek. "It's nothing. Really, just the normal punishment. Pain. You know the drill, so to speak." He lied, his voice tight with anxiety and exhaustion.
—

Thanatos sighed, reaching out to touch Riddle's arm. "It wasn't just the usual punishment. You were gone for a week and a half." Not to mention that Cidarim was much too happy during Riddle's absence. Thanatos yawned. There was something about Riddle that seemed to lull him. "But we've fought enough for tonight. I'll let you keep your secret for now, but I will discover what happened. You should know better than anyone how persistent we can be."

Part 6
Riddle had finally been contentedly asleep when the knock came to his door. He was quick to ignore it the first time. Surely, any follower of any variety would know better than to approach him without a particularly good reason. The last few days had been upsetting to say the least. Riddle was feeling stretched too thin, drawn across too long of a period without being replenished and he needed every second of rest that he could manage aside from his duties in managing the fortress and its various wealthy supporters.

Being the figurehead was…upsetting. Particularly when your actual leader was busy 'experimenting' on someone else. And yet, despite Thanatos' initial hesitation and anger at being confronted, Riddle had learned an overwhelming amount about his younger counterpart, to the point where sleep had eluded him fastidiously in lieu of his mind racing to new, fearful conclusions about death. If anything, the knock at his door had interrupted the first bit of actual rest he had managed to get.

With a touch of distasteful anger, he slipped out of bed and staggered in the dark over to the door, easing it open and peering out at the newcomer, shocked to find…Thanatos?

"Two visits in one day?" Riddle laughed softly to himself. "Aren't I the lucky one? Come in, come in." He said, gesturing for his counterpart to enter.
—

Thanatos barely slept at all. He found himself not only curious about Riddle, but, now that he had shared his secret, he was worried that Riddle would now fear him, considering what he had become. After a while, his curiosity overrode his desire to sleep, and he once again found himself outside of Riddle's door. He wanted answers, and he didn't plan on leaving until he had them.

When Riddle opened the door, the words came tumbling out without any reservation. "What really happened with Voldemort?"

—

"Good lord, Thanatos." Riddle groaned. The man certainly didn't waste time. Perhaps Riddle had been hoping that he could evade this subject even a bit longer but it seems that it had come to hunt him down either way. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, a practiced and unconsciously nervous habit before he turned on heel to walk back to his bed.

"If that's all you came here to talk about, then you're free to leave." Riddle grumbled, collapsing back on to his comforter, entirely unwilling to be awake for anything less than his lordship himself. "And call him by his proper name, Thanatos. It's 'The Dark Lord', even among ourselves. Don't be rude." He chided as he crawled under the blankets, sounding annoyed and exhausted.
—

Thanatos frowned. Seeing as that was the only reason he was there, he had no excuse to stay. But he didn't want to leave just yet. "I just don't get it. When you were in his favor he treated me like the plague and we were brothers. Now he treats me as a thing of curiosity and you treat me as a thing of distain. I'm tired of being treated like a freak by the both of you."

Being around Riddle and the others was like being back in the Slytherin common room with how everyone (save for Ava) tiptoed around each other. He shook his head, attempting to clear away the memory. Maybe he just needed to be near another body right now. He quietly made his way to the edge of Riddle's bed and sat on the floor next to it.

—
"I wish I was…" Riddles voice floated out of the mass of covers he had burrowed into. "More like him, I mean. Powerful, in control, assured and unquestioned." He murmured, tired and pensive, taking a moment to revel in the memory, the fear that had passed through him when he realized what he had done was terribly wrong and he would be punished for it.

Riddle felt Thanatos presence more than even needing to see it. He shifted over to the side and was suddenly struck with a memory, the Slytherin common room. Riddle peered down at Thanatos, wondering if the other had been thinking the same, realizing exactly how young, how lost he looked, all alone in the dark.

"Oh, come off it, Thanatos!" Riddle laughed to himself, quickly leaning over his bedside and pulling his counterpart up to sit with him on the cushy mattress with a groan. "You're just fine. Perfect, in fact." He admitted between the two of them. "You're not a freak. I should not have lost my temper. I'm so sorry." He continued softly, as though lowering the tone of his voice would make it easier to say the words. Unfortunately, that was not the case.
—

"It's fine," he muttered in response, drawing his legs in. He suddenly felt vulnerable, sitting here with Riddle. It was an odd feeling, and he didn't know what to do. "I know I'm a freak. A talented freak, but still a freak."

—
"You're my favorite talented freak." Riddle teased, not hesitating to smoothly wrap his arms around the other's torso and tug him closer, trying to get him to 'unwind'. He leaned his head casually against Thanatos' shoulder and took a deep breath, as though acclimating himself to the feel of the other's power, the slow, sweet addictiveness of it.

"It's pretty incredible…" He sighed. "These bodies we've been given. They're so durable, but so fragile…"
—

Thanatos couldn't help but relax when Riddle wrapped his arms around him. He drew in closer, breathing in the other's scent and enjoying the warmth his companion provided. "True. It's much easier for us to get hurt, but as long as we have our energy sources we are still stronger than most."

The blankets were warm and welcoming. The dark room hid the small smile of contentment that spread across Riddle's face as he felt the other relaxing along with him. He casually stroked along the other's arm, running his fingertips along until he reached his hand, interlocking the fingers gently.

"We're nigh indestructible. Our existence is a work of art." He sighed, his breath ghosting against his counterpart. "He controls all of it. For me, at least, he does." His voice caught, as though unwilling to go on.
—

Thanatos closed his eyes and leaned against his older self's chest. "We were made to be appreciated and treated with the utmost care," he agreed, nodding. "Do you dislike it? Being controlled?"

—
"We are respected." Riddle continued, as though trying to assure himself more than anything. "We are the most powerful. Extensions of divine purpose, to an extent." He took a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. "We are worshipped and appreciated but he…"

Riddle ran his fingertips over his eyes, cringing slightly and shaking his head. "He took all of it away. I angered him, Thanatos. I angered his Eminence and he destroyed my form for it." His voice lowered to a small, even whisper. "I deserved it. He did it to teach me." He ran his hand over the cool surface of the locket as though reassuring himself it was still there. "I was powerless compared to him."

Part 7
"Undress." Riddle's voice was assured, smooth and calm, yet there was something within his eyes that seemed to be burning with an unnatural hunger. It wasn't a request, it wasn't even an order, it was an invitation. He paused, peering down at her before continuing. "I have bought you new clothes." With a wave of his wand, a gown appeared before him, complete with lace, ruffles and enough sparkling accents to make a princess blush. He smiled innocently. "What did you think I meant…?"

Ava's lips parted as she stared at the gown, frozen in place. It was as if he was actively trying to see her humiliated. She peeked up through her lashes at his hungry appearance, then back at the dress. It was so….not her. Even as a child she never wore dresses. She was sure she would look ridiculous wearing the dress he was presenting her with. What made him think it would suit her? After a few minutes, she moved, crossing her arms and looking directly at him. "And if I refuse?"

Oh, his little bird was so adorable when she was being stupid and stubborn. Then again, he would be hard pressed to find a time when his pet was not adorable. The only time he seemed to find himself irate with her is when she had the audacity to disobey him, a decision which she seemed on the edge of currently.

Her distaste for the garment was clear as day, from her moody glances to the low tone of her voice. She might as well be pouting and stomping her feet. "Oh, little bird." He cooed. "You're completely free to refuse my opulent and extravagant gifts. Of course, I'm also free to kill you at any moment as well." He quirked a brow at her challengingly.
—

Her jaw clenched in frustration at the choices presented before her. It wasn't that she was scared of death, she had already accepted that she would eventually die as everyone (save for the blood bastards) did. What she was scared of was the damage she was sure they would cause if she was no longer around to stop them. There were few that would openly defy Tom Riddle the way she willingly did.

She snatched the gown from his hands, heat rising to her cheeks as it rustled at the movement. Just because she was going along with what he asked didn't mean she had to like it. "Fine," she nearly growled. "I'll accept your damn gift. Now are you going to leave me to change or do you want a bloody show too?"

Riddle watched as she snatched the gown from his hands, the beautiful fabric wrinkling as her grip on the garment tightened. She pulled away from him, casting him a disdainful glare that only seemed to amuse him further.

Her stubbornness was endearing, but Riddle was playing the strategist. This was a long game, and he intended on setting himself in the lead early. Ava needed to know that she was not a follower, she was not even a witch, she was a crafty little pet. His pet, in fact.

"You'll need my help, you know." He replied, his voice was smooth, calming with just a touch of playful indulgence. He gestured gracefully to the dress. "All of those buttons. And someone must lace up the corseted back, unless you somehow were planning on doing so yourself. You need me here."

Upon closer inspection, she found that he was right. There was no way she'd be able to put this on herself. A cold shiver passed through her body as the acknowledgement that she would have to depend on him for once. Wordlessly, she turned away from him and began to disrobe. Just because he had to stay didn't mean she had to see him watching her.

As she undressed, she could feel his crimson eyes on her, watching her in amusement. She fought to keep her movements neutral and steady, without any shaking. She wasn't entirely sure she succeeded. Once all of her outer clothing was removed, she had to fight hard not to just grab her clothes and run out of instinct. Instead, she took a deep breath and reached for the luxurious dress. Stepping into it, she pulled it up and adjusted it as much as she could on her own.

She closed her eyes briefly before turning around, a blush quite obviously dusting her cheeks. "Okay. I…" She struggled to get the words out. "Will you help me?"

A gentleman would have left the room. He would have closed the door behind him, waited until the lady was done and ready for him to see her once more, covered and 'decent'. A gentleman would have known to look away, go give the lady respect. Despite his regal bearing, Riddle was not a gentleman.

Riddle watched.

He watched as she disrobed with the vague, twisted amusement that one might have while watching a cat groom itself. He saw the tremors in her hands as she fought to keep herself steady. He sensed her tension, her humiliation all set aside as she pulled the garment over herself. Riddle smiled at the question, enjoying every implication it stood for.

"Of course, little dove." He stepped smoothly forward. He pulled the bodice of the dress snuggly about her midsection, allowing his fingertips to trail casually along her exposed back, leaning in close before he found the garment's laces and giving them a sharp tug. "You look gorgeous already, I daresay." Another tug, as he laced the garment tighter. "All the other ladies will be quite envious."
—–

Her breath hitched as he pulled the bodice tighter and laced it up. It felt uncomfortable and unnatural on her body. She couldn't suppress a shiver as his cool fingers grazed her back, and felt somewhat relieved that her back was to him. The whole situation was degrading and she hated every minute of it. She prayed this was a one-time thing, that he'd leave her and her fashion choices alone after this. Despite the dress covering most of her small frame, she still felt extremely exposed and on display.

It took her a minute or so to readjust her breathing once she was confined to the garment. While it wasn't painfully tight, the corset made it difficult to breathe normally. "Right. The /other ladies/. Like I'm actually going to walk out of the flat in this. No thank you." The long skirt rustled gently as she turned to face him, the usual scowl on her face. Of course, it did little to hide her blatant shame and humiliation.

Riddle studied her as she turned to face him. There was a smile playing at his lips that didn't quite surface yet his eyes roved over her figure contentedly. Her discomfort, her anxiety, and the glowing blush on her cheeks only seemed to add to his amusement.

"You will." Riddle affirmed, looking knowingly down at her disdainful expression. "You're going to dress like this every single day. I'll make sure of it." He whispered. He ran his fingertips along her dark hair, stroking it neatly into place behind her ear, all the while fixing her with an unblinking stare. "Because I'll be here to watch you, little bird. I want to ensure you're well provided for, after all."

Ava took a step back, nearly tripping over herself in the process. Her mind was spinning. Every day? She wasn't sure she could survive going through this degrading treatment every day. Not to mention the fact that it meant that she would be at his mercy just to get dressed. Of course, she knew in the depths of her mind that he would do it. There seemed to be little that he enjoyed more than watching her suffer.

"I…" She tried to speak, retort, say /something/, but the words were caught in her throat. She couldn't do anything but stare at him dumbly, eyes wide. He had her cornered, with no way to escape.

Ava was tripping over herself in trying to find her footing in more ways than the literal. Her mind was moving fast, trying to find an escape. Riddle could almost see the gears turning, and he had to keep from laughing wickedly in response.

Firstly, that dress was not made for anything but being 'shown off', which is exactly what Riddle intended on doing. Ava was his and he intended on letting the world know that his new pet would be taken care of by himself. In time, she would embody status, grace and humility. He would see to it without a doubt. Secondly, there was no escape, and in a few days' time, she wouldn't even want to find an escape. She'd be looking to lock the door behind the both of them.

His eyes widened expectantly, a touch of innocent curiosity creeping into his tone as he spoke. "You…?" He asked, his voice low and personal.

Ava simply turned her face away in response. There was nothing to say. She had run out of words. Her heart sank at the reluctant acknowledgement that he had won this round. Like her namesake implied, she was nothing more than a bird in a pretty cage for Riddle to do with as he pleased.
"It's nothing. Never mind." The words were hollow and full of defeat.

Riddle sensed it within her, like the subtle heat of a glowing fire, the embers clinging to life as the night's darkness slowly closed in. Riddle watched as she bit back words and disgust, as she trained her face into something calm, emotionless and perfectly controlled. Her voice sounded hollow with defeat; music to his ears. His plan was working like a charm, and she would not even know how he had warped her into submission until it was far too late.

His adorable little pet…

"That's what I thought." Riddle hissed, looming over her. His eyes fixed her with an unreadable look, cold and unfeeling, though his smile was welcoming and beautiful. "You look splendid, Ava. You've really made me so happy. I just hope I can return the favor…"

Lowering her head, Ava shifted uncomfortably as he stood over her, threateningly. Riddle was overshadowing her in every way possible, bringing back the fear and emotions she hadn't felt in almost a decade. She had sworn to herself that she would never let herself go through those feelings again, and yet here she was, helpless against the situation.

She was so far under his control, she didn't even realize that he had used her given name instead of the teasing nickname he and the others always used.

Part 8
Tom had been gone over a month, but it felt like a lifetime. He had traveled all over Europe, scouring the extensive private libraries of prominent Witches and Wizards. It had all come to nothing.

The spell used had either been very rare or had been created by Lord Voldemort. He needed to read the journal again, review more of the pages. See the spells instructions in front of him. That was how he found himself outside the magically expanded flat he and the others occupied with Ava.

He eases the front door open, it was an ungodly hour, and no one should be about. He had stored the small leather bound volume on his own personal book case, the one next to his bed. He wondered if it were still there.

Creeping past the other rooms, he tries not to even breathe. He wanted to come and go, no one would be the wiser when they woke in the morning.

He paused at Riddle's door. It was directly across from his own, and the door was ajar. The scene inside made him pinch his lips. Riddle had obviously become even more depraved since they had met last.

He turned away, and opened his door silently, closing it behind him. The journal was just where he left it. Everything was in its place, actually…it made him miss the comforts of having a permanent residents. He would come back for good one day, but it wouldn't be tonight. He stowed the book in a pack, along with a few others, and gave the room a once over for anything else he could use.

Satisfied, he readied himself to leave. When Tom opened the door he was so surprised his bag fell to the floor, the books inside clattered out loudly.

Riddle's eyes were more red than he had ever seen them before.

—

Tom had returned.

The idea of switching out his books in place of enchanted duplicates which would warn Riddle of his counterpart's return had been both a stroke of brilliance and a last ditch effort. He had figured that his younger self would not be foolish enough to venture back to reclaim anything from their stronghold, but if, by any chance he did…Riddle couldn't even bring himself to hope.

When the moment did finally come though, Riddle found himself preoccupied. He was attending to his pet in a way only he would deem necessary when he felt the shift in his magical field. Tom had returned and there was not a moment to be lost.

Riddle retreated, leaving his toy locked safely away for a time (she would wait for his return, patiently, for as long as he needed), before he strode down to Tom's room to meet his target.

Tom stumbled back, startled, from the door he had just shoved open. Riddle smiled down at him, caught between relief and bitterness as he stepped through the threshold and closed it shut behind him. The wards that enclosed them and trapped them in Tom's room were wordless, triggered by the duplicate books that Tom carried.

"Well, well, well…" Riddle purred, peering at his counterpart, taking in his ragged appearance and fighting back the urge to comb his hair and straighten his jacket. "Look who came all the way home. Tom, darling, it's been far too long. I do hope you're not looking for these…" he gestured to the books in Tom's hand, causing them to disappear in an instant. "You'll have no use for them now that we're back together."

Tom backed up, he had tried to disapperate but there were wards placed on the room. He hit the edge of the bed and fell clumsily. The glare Riddle received was full of embarrassment and anger at having been caught.

Desperation had caused him to be clumsy. It had been too easy, in hind sight. Obviously a trap. His time away has made him sloppy. He cheeks burned with indignation.

"Oh yes, back together, a happy family. You forget we never had to be apart Riddle. You could have come with me." It wasn't true, Riddle was dependent on the Dark Lord in a way that Tom was not, and he knew it. It was a low blow, but maybe if he felt some guilt Tom would be able to escape.

"Instead you're here, and you can't even control your urges. I thought you took better care of your pets than that." He picked himself off the ground and jerked his chin in the direction of Riddles room. "That would have never happened if you had come with me, I would have been able to help you."

Seeing him stumble and glare had been almost endearing. There was something so strikingly human, so relatable about his counterpart and Riddle wouldn't have changed him for the world. He couldn't help but remember the many nights that they had spent reading and talking to one another, exchanging theories and opinions and jokes until the early hours of the morning, falling asleep while leaning on one another for support. They had a kinship, a brotherly bond which Riddle could not admit that he shared with any other he had met since. If Tom's absence had wounded the Dark Lord's pride, it had devastated Riddle in a way he could not properly voice.

He should have felt nothing. He was a horcrux, a piece of a broken soul. Yet Tom's loss had brought about a keen emptiness within him, one which needed constant fulfillment.

Riddle gulped hard, the muscles on his neck tightening as his brow furrowed in a momentary lapse of certainty. Tom had immediately set in on the exact memory that Riddle had been fearing he would, and hoping to avoid. The moment of Tom's departure lingered in the forefront of Riddle's mind like a foul smell. Riddle assumed that his decision to let Tom go, to hide the truth from his beloved master would have haunted his dreams. In truth, Riddle tended not to dream at all. These days, he hardly slept.

"Control my urges?" Riddle breathed, stepping forward. His beautiful smile had transformed into something challenging and sinister as his eyes seemed to glow in the darkness of Tom's room. "Can't you see that I'm taking very good care of our little bird? Her mind bends closer to my will with every passing moment." He justified smoothly, nearing his young counterpart. "Help me, Tom? It looks like you can hardly help yourself, how could you possibly hope to save someone else?"

Riddle was like a jungle cat preparing to pounce on Tom, he had never been afraid of him before that moment. As Riddle stalked closer the more unnerved Tom became.

Then the verbal blows had come, Tom was not prepared for them to be so punishing. Riddle had never been so unforgiving. It shook him more than he would have thought.

Shame consumed him, and he wanted to look away, but Riddles eyes were impossible to disengage. Those predator eyes…

"You're right." The voice coming from him didn't sound like his own, but he felt the truth of it. He wasn't able to help himself, how could he have ever been so stupid as to think he could help Riddle too.

"I should have stayed…" he diverted his eyes finally, and his stomach turned as he saw Riddles perfectly manicured hand stark against the arm of his tattered coat. Rage boiled inside of him, and he shirked the hand away.

"How dare you use your power on me, I'm not Ava and I'm not your toy! You disgust me. I'm sorry I ever had hope for you." He spat. "You and Voldemort deserve each other Riddle."

Riddle hadn't realized that he had taken a step forward. He had only been able to take in Tom's sudden pensive silence, as though the facts laid before him had been too much. Riddle had thrown the correct barb, it seemed, but the feeling of satisfaction that usually followed a successful attack didn't surface. Bitterness bubbled within him like bile, tasting just as acidic.

Power surged through him. Riddle should have stopped to consider why that may have been happening, but the look of betrayal on Tom's face told him all he needed to know. When his hand was knocked away, Riddle realized what he had instinctively done. He had reached out and touched Tom, seeking a source of energy without even knowing it. The warmth of Tom's contact, the familiar feeling of being near to his counterpart had been welcoming, comforting and snatched away far too soon.

Riddle withdrew his hand, his eyes narrowed in frustration and anger, not only with at the audacity of his younger self, but somewhere within him, he felt his own grip on reality slipping away. Riddle and His Lordship did deserve one another, after all. Riddle was his mistress, his personal attendant, his second in command…or perhaps he had been at one point. The bitterness arose within him once again as Riddle lunged forward, gripping the front of Tom's robes and yanking him near, his face twisted into a snarl.

"We do!" Riddle snapped, breathing hard. "We belong together for always! All of us! A-and the more power he bestows, the more complete we become. He only punishes us to make us stronger, to teach us further." His grip tightened on Tom's robes. "And once I return you to him, he'll approve of me once again. He'll stop choosing Thanatos instead of-"

Riddle stopped suddenly, the mad, crimson glint in his eyes seemed to fade in the soft, cool moonlight of the room. Riddle withdrew his hands, peering down at them as though seeing them for the first time, watching as his perfectly manicured fingertips quivered as he took a deep breath.

Had it really come to this? Begging for his lordship's attention? Clawing his way to the top? Turning in the only one he trusted? Lying like a bitch in heat for the mere chance of being noticed? Riddle shuddered. He felt just as repulsive as he knew himself to be

"Leave." Riddle's voice was flat, hollow. His eyes stared, unfocused, at a point on the ground as he backed away. "Go now. Take your books. Don't come back."

Part 9
"Are you happy now?"

Tom glares at Riddle and says nothing before whipping his head in the other direction.

Happy? The audacity!

Riddle smiled sadly at Tom as his counterpart turned away. "I am." He admitted softly, more to himself than anyone else. "Happy, I mean."

Tom rounded on Riddle in a fury. "Of course you are Riddle! Why wouldn't you be! You get to go lay on your back with him at night and you have deluded yourself into thinking nothing has changed between us brother!"

The night Tom returned, a desperate act to retrieve journals from his old room, had gone from bad to worse. The altercation with Riddle had left Tom emotionally raw, but he had been prepared to run into him.

Eventually Riddle, in a moment of weakness or sympathy, had stepped aside to let Tom retreat. He has scrambled to pick up the books and hurried past his older self, whispering his heartfelt gratitude.

The words turned rotten on his mouth though, because as soon as he stepped into the hall a luminescent figure was waiting for him at the end of it.

Lord Voldemort.

"Tom," he older man swept his arms open, waiting. "You've come back to me."

He was too weak to run.

"You were never going to let me leave," the words, no more than a whisper, were acidic. "You have damned me."

Tom slunk to the open arms, a beaten dog returning to his owner.

Defeated.

Tom looked absolutely stunning. From his perfectly tailored new robes, embroidered in silver and green to the neatness of his hair, to his focused, enchanting dark eyes. He looked the absolute picture of health and youthful loveliness. Yet…Riddle couldn't help but sense something about him like an aura, a scent.

Hopelessness.

The fateful night that their Lordship and Savior had discovered Tom returning for his books, he had welcomed both Riddle and himself into the fortress, along with their little bird companion. Riddle had been shocked to learn that the 'capture' had been attributed to his own cunning, that His Majesty had thought he had planned to keep Tom there for as long as possible to give Voldemort a chance to confront him.

That was, of course, entirely incorrect. In that heartbeat of indecision, Riddle had been entirely willing to let his counterpart run. It had been wrong to think of such a thing, but it was too late to take back now.

Tom's coldness, his anger hurt beyond anything Riddle thought Horcruxes capable of feeling. He wanted to shout at him, to correct him, to convince him, but he was no longer even the Dark Lord's favorite companion anymore. That beloved position belonged to another favorite trinket, and the fact felt too bitter to admit aloud. Thus, Riddle let Tom think what he would about Riddle's nightly activities, even if he was not the one in the Lord's favor anymore.

He tried to ignore the hunger. It didn't always work.

"Brother-dear." Riddle attempted his usual, casual and smooth tone, reaching out to his younger self, taking his hand and giving it a fond squeeze. "Nothing has changed. We can be just like we used to again! Just you and I, up until all hours of the morning, discussing politics, battle tactics and ice cream." He laughed.

Tom reached out his hand to Riddle languidly. "Here brother, you have all manner of abilities when it comes to physical contact. Make me stay here and chat with you as long as you want. I don't have the will to fight it off, if you tried."

The Dark Lord had dressed Tom up too look the part of a young noble wizard. The finery and lavish almost made him gag with repulsion, they might as well have been chains.

In this instance he was glad for tailored robes, they made him beautiful, he could admit, and people like Riddle were attracted to such beauty.

Riddle himself was dressed, as always, in the most luxurious of materials, all cut to him perfectly. He always wore more color than the rest of them, but it only complimented his lean figure and took away nothing from his dark features.

They must have made quite the picture, one beautiful boy reaching out for the other. Anyone, unable to see the blank expression on Toms face would have thought it a tender moment.

"Make me love you again."

"I fear you may never do that."

Riddle didn't even realize he was reaching out longingly, greedily to his counterpart before their hands were interlocked. He stepped forward, pulling the proffered hand to his lips, kissing the hand softly in the sincerest show of fondness he could muster and savoring the sensation of closeness that it brought between them. Or perhaps it had been false closeness, a foolish illusion. Yet Riddle couldn't bring himself to pull away from it.

"Tom, you can't imagine how things have been since you left. I've been so-" Lonely? Worried? Afraid? Riddle shook his head, gripping Tom's hand a touch tighter in his refusal to admit to his own growing weakness. He wished that the other man's presence would erase away all of his uncertainty, but as it were, his coldness only seemed to add to it. Ever since he had returned, Riddle had felt more inadequate, more upset than ever. His entire world seemed to hinge on whether or not he could keep his unconventional family together, and they were tearing one another apart at the seams.

"Does our lordship know why you were gone?" Riddle whispered, stepping closer to speak in urgent undertones. "Does he suspect…?"