Chapter 10: Never Let Go

"Well, this is quite the cheery reunion," said Klaus dryly.

Scorpius pulled sharply back and away from Albus, wrenching free of the dark-haired wizard's grip.

"Talk to your friend here," Scorpius said, instantly cool and in control once more. "Albus is the one who exploded all over me."

Albus didn't say anything. He just stared at the floor with his arms hanging loosely by his side, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"What happens now?" asked Klaus. "Oh, do you mind if I smoke?" he added, looking questioningly at Scorpius.

"Yes, I mind," snapped Scorpius. "We're underground in a relatively closed off series of caves, do you want me to suffocate?"

Klaus shrugged. "No need to get so short with me, I was just asking."

Scorpius rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "As for what happens now, I suggest you leave immediately. Though, somehow I think that might be too much for me to hope for."

"I'm not leaving without you," said Albus quietly.

"See?" said Scorpius, looking to Klaus. "That's the stubbornness we all know and hate Albus for." Klaus saw Albus flinch, but Scorpius didn't notice. "If I can't get rid of you right away, we might as well go through to my sitting room, seeing as you destroyed everything in here," suggested Scorpius, looking around rather woefully at the splinters of furniture and the torn rug.

"This way." Scorpius turned and walked through the doorway behind him, not waiting to see if anyone followed.

"Klaus, a little help?" asked Albus, crossing to Elsa's still body, and kneeling beside it. With Albus taking her shoulders as carefully as he could, and Klaus taking her legs, they managed to move her through the doorway after Scorpius and down the short corridor into the chamber beyond.

Scorpius was already sitting in a comfortable looking red armchair, his feet propped up on a leather ottoman. Other furnishings included a green couch, two more red armchairs, a couple of small tables, a grand Turkish rug, and several rather gruesome tapestries of vampires dismembering humans and drinking their blood. Here, too, there was a beautiful marble fireplace with flames leaping in the grate.

"Put her over there," said Scorpius with a wave of his hand at the couch. Klaus and Albus were grateful to oblige, for carrying human dead-weight gets tiring fast. Albus quickly made her as comfortable as he could, moving pillows and cushions around as he saw fit.

No sooner had Albus sunk into an armchair when three vampires carrying as many trays slid soundlessly into the room. Each tray held a human meal which the vampires placed with a flourish upon the small tables that sat near each armchair.

"Thank you, you may go," said Scorpius. With a short bow, the vampires vanished as quietly as they had come. Scorpius poked at the food on his plate with a mournful gaze. "I never thought I'd miss mother's cooking quite so much. Turns out vampires are terrible at it. Aren't used to having to prepare food, what with fresh human meat and blood being their usual meal, you see," explained Scorpius. "I had a terrible time just getting them to be able to fix this meager sitting."

Albus could see where Scorpius was coming from. The meal consisted of a fried egg and slice of tomato between two pieces of bread, half a baked potato, and a glass of water.

"Voughan has really pushed me to try out some blood, insisting that it's really quite good. It took quite a lot to ensure him I probably wouldn't favor it."

"Sounds like you and Voughan are regular pals," said Albus dryly, taking the sparse sandwich and raising it to his lips.

"He's not so bad when you get to know the chap," said Scorpius amiably. "He has his way of doing and thinking about things, but he does what he's told if you give him a straight order." Still, Albus wasn't convinced it was that great having a second-in-command who might just decide to eat visitors before even running it by his leader, but decided not to point it out.

"Scorpius," started Albus, pausing briefly before continuing, "why are you here? Why are you doing what you're doing? What's going through your head?"

"I killed someone, Albus. You don't think that's a reason to flee England? What better place than Germany? I'm fluent, and as for the vampires, I need some form of protection, don't I? I'm not going to Azkaban, Albus. I won't. I can't," Scorpius' voice was as level as always, but Albus saw the small tremble in his lip as he spoke, the slight flaring of his nostrils. They were very subtle signs. Signs anyone but Albus would miss, but that told him worlds about the situation.

"Scorpius, why—" began Albus, his voice so low Scorpius had to lean towards him to hear it. "Why—why did—just…why?" ended Albus helplessly, searching Scorpius' masked eyes for any answer to his question. Unnoticed by both of them, Klaus had slipped away back down to the other chamber, leaving them in privacy.

Scorpius gazed down at his hands, curled in his lap. "I caught him in the act, Albus," said Scorpius, his lower lip starting to tremble even more. "I caught him—caught him doing it, to a young boy. He was—it was—it—the same stuff that Blackwell did to me, Albus," said Scorpius in a hushed whisper. Now he was looking at Albus, his eyes pleading. "I lost it, Albus. For the first time in my life, I completely lost it. I was angry, so angry. Every bit of rage in my body, every bit that's been in me, boiling and stored up ever since—ever since that time, it all came out. It came rushing out in one quick moment, and took complete control of me." Scorpius' eyes squeezed shut at the memory, and a single tear slid out from between his lids.

Albus himself warred with the emotions churning within him. He wondered how he could feel so much in regards to someone else, for it was more terrible than anything he had ever felt for himself. It felt as if the emotions were at war within him, threatening to tear him apart and destroy every bit of sanity he had left.

"It—it wasn't your fault," began Albus. "How could anyone expect any more of you? You've done so much already. You've—you've—"

"Don't, Albus," said Scorpius, still not opening his eyes. "I killed my own father; there is no excuse for me. He was a man I loved and respected—how could I have done that, Albus? How, when all he did was—was—" he broke off, unable to speak. He caught a sob in the back of his throat, and then continued, "Does any man deserve to die for such a small crime?"

Albus could feel the tears start to flow soundlessly down his cheeks. He wished he could reach out and touch Scorpius in some way shape or fashion, perhaps to grab his hand or—or—but he knew he could not, as he never could. Scorpius could never be touched by anyone again, unless the contact was that of violence or anger. It was one of his many and great burdens to bear.

Albus sprang from his armchair and kneeled on the ground next to Scorpius'. "Listen to me," he said earnestly. "What your father did was no small violation of trust, easily forgiven. Yes, it was unfortunate that his actions inadvertently lead to his death, but you cannot shoulder all the blame. It will undo you. You bear too much as it is.

"You cannot escape all that has happened by running, Scorpius. Trying to escape your past and all that is within you will get you nowhere. It will pile up, drowning you in the shit that it is, until you completely lose yourself. I should know," he finished quietly, his gaze moving briefly to the sleeping form of Elsa.

"But what do I do, Albus?" asked Scorpius, his eyelids slowly opening, though his gaze did not lift from his twisted hands that remained in his lap. "I can't go to Azkaban; I'd sooner die then set foot in the place. I'm on the verge of breaking, Albus. Breaking to the point of never being able to be repaired again."

Albus saw clearly the lines of fear written in Scorpius' face. Lines of fear written all over the most courageous and brave person he had ever known, and he knew he faced a daunting task. How could he comfort the blonde wizard? How could he protect him from all that lay ahead? He had no idea.

"You're not going to go to Azkaban, Scorpius," said Albus firmly, pouring more confidence into his voice than he actually felt. "We don't even have to go back to England—at least not yet. Let's get out of here, let's travel the world. I've got an apartment that can move through space without boundaries. You need time, Scorpius. It takes time to heal, and you have many hurts that go deeper perhaps than even you know." Scorpius looked at Albus now, and they held each other's gaze, communicating much more than just the words that were said. It was one of those rare moments when Scorpius let his barriers down, one of those rare moments that he let in someone else.

"We are damaged goods, you and I," Albus said in a low voice. "I can't even promise you that we will ever be the same as we once were—in actuality I think it is highly unlikely. And I can't promise you that real healing of any sort is even out there, for I have searched for it for three years, and haven't found it. But what I can promise to you is a friend who will not leave you. A friend that will stand by you in that search, ever seeking an answer with you. A friend who has more faith in you than you have in yourself."

Slowly, the beginnings of a smile started to appear on Scorpius' face.