"As You're Told"

Author's Note: i'm hitting our boys with the steel chair in this one. tw for violence i'm so sorry y'all

Read on ao3

His lungs heaved and his legs burned, but he couldn’t stop running. Somewhere in their terrified scramble to dodge Delphi’s hexes he’d lost sight of Albus. The name was at the tip of his tongue, but calling out into the darkness could land him right back at square one. The electrified ropes binding his wrists together flashed and crackled with each slight movement. Despite the searing pain, they were his only light source as he thrust his bonds into the shadows, searching for movement. He wanted to cry. He could feel fat tears burning at the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t dare let them fall.

Albus. He had to find Albus. They’d taken advantage of Delphi’s momentary distraction as Craig - . His breath caught. Craig’s body had hit the ground, and as she stood above him, admiring her work, they’d made a run for it. The Forbidden Forest had been the closest source of cover, and so they sprinted into the shadows. A flicker of regret whispered at the back of his mind, telling him it’d been a mistake. At least when they were on the pitch, they were together. Now, Albus could be anywhere, so could she. What if she’d already found him? What if -

No. He couldn’t let himself think of what Delphi would do if she got her hands on Albus again. He pushed it all to the back of his mind. All thoughts of Craig’s empty husk hitting the ground, Albus begging for Scorpius to be left alone - anything except the directive to find Albus was pushed away.

————

Albus was tired of running. Despite the cocktail of fear and guilt burning through his veins with each exhausted heartbeat, he was enraged. He didn’t think Scorpius was capable of making sounds like the ones forced from his lips as she tortured him. He knew he’d never forget them. Albus wasn’t sure who he hated more at the moment: her, for torturing Scorpius, or himself for putting them in this mess and being powerless to stop her. For now it didn’t matter. He just needed to find Scorpius. Then he could spend the rest of his life trying to make things better. But for now -

A branch snapped behind him. It was the only warning he had before he found himself pinned against a tree. It felt as though a weight was bearing down on his chest, pressing him against the rough bark and making it difficult to draw in a full breath. He struggled against it, but the force only pushed harder.

“You should’ve heard him scream,” a voice lilted from behind him. Albus froze, ears straining to anticipate where she was approaching from.

“I suppose you already have, but those were nothing compared to the sounds he made before I found you.” Delphi’s voice seemed to come from everywhere all at once. “Albus please! Albus, help me!” she crooned. She whipped from around the tree and took his face in her hands. Her nails dug into his skin and he thrashed his head from her grip. Delphi tutted, disappointed, before she thrust a fist into his curls and slammed his head against the tree. Hard.

His world shook with the force of the impact and he saw stars as she released his head. He cried out as he lifted his head. The world around him was soupy and slow. He was hearing everything from underwater, and he duly registered the back of his head was damp where it had struck the tree. The world shifted and slowly coalesced to form a single figure in front of him. Delphi.

“He’s got some fight in him, your little loverboy,” she spat. “I’ve never seen anyone last that long under the cruciatus curse. He was begging for you, you know. Begging for you to help him. And where were you, Albus? In the end, it was practically a mercy killing.”

He looked her in the eyes. Took in her smug grin, teeth bared like a wolf merely playing with its food. “You’re…you’re lying,” he croaked. She had to be. Scorpius couldn’t be- . It wasn’t possible.

The mask fell from her face. “Would it matter if I was? He’ll be dead soon, anyway, if you don’t do as you’re told.”

For the first time that night, Albus’ defiance wavered. He couldn’t imagine a world without Scorpius in it. Couldn’t fathom it. Maybe he could buy them time? Pretend to go along with her plan, just until someone found them, or they figured something else out. She seemed to read his mind.

“I still don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” she whispered into his ear. Albus hadn’t realized she’d moved so close. She pointed her wand at his throat and hissed, “But you will. Imperio.”

Everything fell away and Albus was floating. There was a fog inside his head that chased away the pain and promised that everything would be alright as long as he listened. It was all so easy! He felt the burning ropes dissipate from around his wrists and sighed. The fog was safe. It was warm. It promised everything would be okay. He saw Delphi moving at the corner of his vision, but paid her no mind. Nothing would hurt him, and he was perfectly content to let the fog envelop him until he received his instructions. Delphi concealed herself behind a copse of trees a few meters away.

Call out for him, her voice whispered. He obeyed. It felt good to call out Scorpius’ name, knowing that his best friend would soon emerge and they’d be together again. What a wonderful suggestion. Do it again, and sound scared, came the next order.

Albus didn’t understand why he needed to sound scared, but he didn’t anyway. He just wanted Scorpius to be here. What did it matter what his voice sounded like? Just moments later a figure crashed through the trees, all lanky limbs and soft hair, moonlight-white. Scorpius.

Go to him, the voice coaxed. Albus ran forward, holding his friend by the elbows and gazing at his dirt-streaked face. Even now he was the most beautiful thing Albus had ever seen. A ripple of disgust rolled through the fog in his head, and Albus frowned. Scorpius was saying something, concern etched along his forehead. Albus tilted his head, confused yet intrigued. He wanted to listen to Scorpius, but the voice demanded his attention. Hold his face in your hands, it urged. Be gentle.

This was his favorite instruction by far. Albus placed one hand at the back of his neck, and let the other gently cup his cheek beneath a fresh-blooming cut. Whatever Scorpius had been saying seemed to fall away. He was gaping at Albus, lips parted in shock and brow furrowed in confusion. He rubbed a thumb soothingly against Scorpius’ cheek and threaded his fingers though the soft locks at his nape. “Albus?” he breathed.

The voice’s next instructions were crisp and clear. Put your hands around his throat and squeeze.

His fingers twitched, but remained in place. Hurt Scorpius? He couldn’t do that. It went against every fiber of his being. Scorpius should never be in pain. Never.

The fog didn’t like that. The voice reared back, and he felt the instructions rattle through his skull: Obey!

Albus’ hands shot out of their own accord and he felt his brain cleave in two. It was as though he were watching someone else entirely. He fought and raged against his own body, but could only watch as the rest of him obeyed the voice. His hands were wrapped around Scorpius’ neck. Hands came up to pry them away, but they were still bound and did nothing more than paw at Albus’ unforgiving grip. Scorpius looked more frightened than Albus had ever seen him. His eyes were blown wide open, cheeks flushed and mouth agape in a desperate bid for air.

He scrabbled uselessly against Albus’ hold, lips moving in a silent plea for him to stop. A horrible rattling wheeze punctuated each fruitless attempt to prise the fingers choking the life out of him. Albus could feel his pulse jackrabbiting against his palms, frantic and terrified and slowing, slowing, slowing…

Scorpius grew heavier in his grip, and he followed him down as he sunk to the earth. The corners of his eyes were crinkled in pain, lashes fluttering as his eyes slipped closed. His lips were tinged blue. Why were they blue? Scorpius’ lips were always pink. So perfectly pink.

Albus hadn’t noticed he’d been kicking his legs until Scorpius went still beneath him. Fledgling gasps died in his throat as he grew limp. Horrible whines and choked-off whimpers petered out. His bound hands fell away. Soft grey eyes pleaded a silent question, Why?, as a single tear escaped his fluttering eyelids. His eyes rolled back and he convulsed once, twice, and lay still. Completely still.

And still Albus held him, hands wrapped in an iron grip.

The air rushed out of him in one fell swoop, and it took the fog with it. Albus, in shock at the sudden change, remained frozen. Understanding hit him all at once and he pulled his hands away. A sound tore through his throat, half sob and half scream. He scrambled forward on his hands and knees and pulled Scorpius into his arms. He lay still.

“Scorpius?! Scorpius please!” he wailed. He pressed a trembling hand to his too-pale neck, but was shaking too frantically to find a pulse. He recoiled, gasping in horrified, snatched gasps as the moonlight illuminated the angry bruises ringed around his best friend’s neck. Albus swallowed down a sob and pressed an ear to his chest, holding his breath. The silence dragged on. Scorpius lay still. The wind whistled, leaves rustled, and Albus’ world collapsed. And then -

There. A weak thump. And then another. “Scorpius,” he sobbed brokenly. “Scorpius please, I’m sorry!” He cradled him in his arms, hands frantically brushing soft strands of blond hair from his deathly pale face. “Please come back!” he wailed. The air shifted behind him.

“Remember this. Next time, he won’t come back. Remember this feeling, and do exactly. As. You. Are. Told.”

Albus was confused, barely registering her words through his grief and terror. He barely heard her whisper rennervate before Scorpius was coughing and spluttering in his arms. Tears of relief blurred his vision, but when he blinked them away, Scorpius looked terrified. The blue tinge was fading from his lips, but as Albus watched he twisted himself from his grip. Albus couldn’t bear the look on Scorpius’ face. He reached out a hand to comfort him, but he flinched violently away, curling in on himself. His gaze flicked between Delphi and Albus like a frightened animal caught in a trap.

Albus felt something give within him. He didn’t even react as Delphi recast the burning ropes around his wrists. As she ordered them to march back toward the quidditch pitch, time turner in hand, he saw Scorpius inch toward him ever-so-slightly. Almost imperceptible, but it was there. Their gazes met, and he could tell that Scorpius understood. He seemed to understand Delphi had used the Imperius curse. Scorpius leveled him with a look of understanding, of forgiveness. Albus looked away, guilty. He would never forgive himself.

"As You're Told"

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