A/N: Not really my characters or plot, sadly enough.
Chapter 12: No Exit.
Tom is crying.
It is a pitiful sound, but it gives me strange comfort; a hope in that Tom's humanity does in fact exist.
"I didn't mean to," he sobs, trying his best to sound dignified, succeding just the tiniest bit, but not thoroughly. The bar is just too damn high.
I am melting. The shock of it all is running off me in times with the waterdrops displayed over my body. My naked body that Tom is clutching. He is trailing the bruises on my thigh which Abraxas left with one hand, holding me against him with the other. Muttering something against my abdomen as he does so. Pointless words.
The sound of it calls upon my own sanity and reason.
I shove him away with all my might. Quickly climbing out of the shower and grabbing a towel before he has time to catch me again.
"What is wrong with you?" I shriek, feeling the anger taking over.
But Tom is stuck in whatever world he is visiting.
"I didn't mean to. It is your fault. You're the one that created this.." he begins to mutter to then trail off, mumbling something to then lift his head up again, meeting my eye.
And I swear I can see the light returning to them then.
I can see cunning ol' Tom coming back down to earth. And he is not happy.
My fingers are shaking, but this time it is not out of fear. I am angry. So angry I can not even begin to comprehend the entirety of my anger. Frustrated tears are pressed from under my eyelids and my lips are sown together into a nothingness, my jaw clenched tightly.
"How did you get in?" I state, trying to subdue my anger.
He moves his head – uncomprehending.
"What?"
"I said: How. Did. You. Get. In?"
He searches the ceiling for an answer.
"It doesn't matter."
"It does to me."
"Fine," he sighs. "Key." He climbs out of the shower, his clothes drenched. I do not know when, but he has managed to put back the thing between his legs; all zipped up and proper he is.
"You have a key?" I say, the irrationen coming off of me in waves. "You might want to be more specific than that, Tommy-boy."
He picks up a towel, bringing it to his hair. His eyes are red but I chose not to notice, as does he.
"I have a key to every room of this house. Yours included. It is for security measures." He checks his face in the mirror. Looking very much like his old arrogant self, just drenched.
It is then I run out of the room, not knowing where to put my anger and sadness. Wanting to scream, run, cry and hit someone, Tom, at the same time.
My numbness is gone. Long gone voices are making their presence known in my head.
Filthy, one says. That was filthy.
It is not you Hermione, another one echo. It is Tom. He is filthy filthy filthy.
A weak one answers: but he is your brother.
I slam the door shut.
It is true.
He is my brother.
And I do love him.
It does not take long before he enters my room. He has changed out of his clothes and has put his unreadable mask back into place.
I feel calmer, willing myself not to think about it.
Thinking about it.
I am seated by my desk, not even pretending to do anything of importance. Just sitting. Why should I too put on a mask? I think, my eyes on a pen with my name on it. Mother gave me that pen two birthdays ago, if my memory serves me right.
He goes to the window to look out, hands in his pockets.
"What?" I say after a while, not really wanting to acknowledge him as he is arrogantly waiting for me to do so first. I've pleased that git enough. But the sooner this is over, the better. To hell with pride for now.
He does not turn.
"That was unfortunate," he then says, as calm as ever.
I press my thumbnail into the area between my other thumb and forefinger. I press it until it hurts.
"If that would be all?" The question rhetorical.
"It isn't."
"Well then?"
A lonely sigh echoes throughout the room. Tom's, not mine. And then he turns around.
"You met with Abraxas this evening."
I blink stupidly, regarding the red mark that my nail left on my hand.
"And you know this how?" But as I look up and see his face, I change my mind. "You know what? I don't even want to know. I just want you out of this room. And soon enough, I want you out of my life."
This catches Tom's attention.
"You can't do that. I'm your brother," he states calmly, but even he can not fully conceal the panic shining through.
"Apparently not. That was not a very brotherly thing you did there Tom," I say, using a tool of Tom's and acting witty and cold.
Just so I can stay calm.
I must stay calm.
He pulls one hand out of his pocket to make nonchalant hand movements with.
"Look Hermione. How did you plan on pushing me out of your life? That would make for a lot of explaining to mother and father, don't you think? How would you explain not being there for christmas? Not calling me on my birthday? How would you.."
"I can always say that you abused me," I interrupt. I have turned my chair to face him and my eyes are fully focused upon his person. A piercing stare.
His lip pulls up briefly, just for a second, before he loses it. "I DIDN'T ABUSE YOU!" he screams and surges forward, turning an angry scarlet.
Instinctively, I retreat. He gets into a kneeling position and I flinch as he puts his palms on my cheeks, framing my face.
"I didn't abuse you," he repeats, but I don't know who he is trying to convince. I am most certainly not listening to him anymore.
Firmly, I pull his hands off me. Surprisingly he lets me do so, but he stays in his position, capturing me between the chair and his body. His gaze falls to the floor.
"It is was it is."
I snort, actually snort.
"It is also what it isn't."
That seems to confuse him enough. He looks up again.
"What do you mean?"
"No," I say with all the harshness I can muster. "You don't get to ask questions. I'm the one who asks questions here."
His head falls backwards before he gets up. I follow his movements closely.
"Fine," he says, pacing and clearly irritated, as if he had the right to be so. "Fine. Fire away then little sister! What do you want to know? You want to know how I know of Abraxas? I didn't follow you there as you think, I let other people do it. Other people? you wonder. Well, yes. I do have a small assembly of people that are more eager to listen to me then you are. And oh, yes you already know about the key, perhaps now you wonder if I do in fact visit your room when you are unaware of it? It has happened, let's leave it at that, shall we dear? The diary? Hmm.. I suppose it is a tool I use to keep my sanity. I've been slipping you see. What else is there? Oh yes, tonight. Well, tonight was your fault, Hermione. Of course it is regretful what happened, but there is no going back now. There's no exit, you see."
I just don't say anything.
He lifts his right eyebrow in response to my silence. Then, as an afterthought:
"Oh and also. You're sleeping with me tonight."
A/N: How are you doing wonderful creatures of mother earth? Sorry for the late update. I've been to the middle of freaking nowhere to celebrate christmas (and all the materialistic nonsense that it is). I didn't have Internet there, otherwise I would have updated instead of freezing my butt off in the snow.
But less about me. More about Tom and Hermione. Yes, they may be OOC. People have different ideas of how Hermione and Tom are as people and my own ideas may vary from yours. And of course, circumstances makes people and this takes place in an alternate universe, so that might contribute to the OOC-ness as well. As my writing does, seeing as I am not miss Rowling.
Well, what more can I say? I hope the future chapters won't disappoint you. We're twelve chapters in and have kind of scraped the surface of my Hermione, so her true self of this particular story has not quite landed yet.
One last thing: dark!Tom. Some of you are concerned about Tom becoming dark to the point of no return.. well.. Tom is dark. But he does have a softness to him reserved for those he cares for (which is basically Hermione). Thus, if Tom was to hurt Hermione (as he has done) he would feel regret, but he would not easily apologize for it or even admit to doing anything wrong, seeing as he is a proud cow.
Lastly, thank you all for your patience and a special thanks to those reviewing without accounts and to whom I can not therefore reply. You as well as the others, are worth all the good-karma stuff that the universe has to offer.