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myokk · 3 months ago

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before it felt like a sin, ch. 2

ch.1

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 6900

summary: Eloise never wanted to be different.

And yet, her differences are what have defined her life up until this point: growing up as a squib in one of the most prominent wizarding families, being exiled to muggle society, and then attending Hogwarts at the age of sixteen.

She finds herself thrust into the life she should have been prepared for from birth but was denied. As she navigates this new life and her new precarious position in her family, she must come to terms with the fact that maybe what she dreamed of her whole life isn't turning out how she ever expected it would.

a/n: here's chapter 2!! I just wanted to add these amazing beautiful drawings I look back on allllllll the time, by @kay9leo 🥹🫶 I LOVE YOU SO MUCH !!!!! 😙💓😙💓😙💓

I also want to reiterate that this fic is REALLY CANON DIVERGENT!!!!! I will NOT be following the game’s plot at all really with this (it really starts to diverge around chapter 6/7 maybe I don’t remember), and I don’t see Eloise as the game’s MC either.

Things were definitely not going as planned…not that Eloise had really known what to expect. Almost from the moment the portkey had brought her to meet Professor Fig, it seemed like everything had gone from bad to worse.

And it had all started out so well. He had handed her the provisional wand, and upon contact the magic coursing through her had been exhilarating. Finally Eloise was able to experience what she had dreamed of for so long. All too soon, however, she was putting the wand to use in ways she hadn’t imagined. Watching Mr. Ospric die had made her blood run cold but then she didn’t have the luxury of processing the shock as so much was happening at once and there was a dragon and death and then…another portkey? Before she knew it, she was fighting some sort of sentient guardians in some mysterious Gringott’s vault and there was concrete proof of the goblin uprising…it was simply too much to take in at once.

Now, she was standing in front of the ornate entrance to a room Professor Fig had called the “Great Hall”. He checked the pocketwatch inside his robes again, and muttered (more to himself than anything) “hopefully the sorting is still going on…” and then in a louder voice as he glanced at Eloise - “come along then, young Eloise!”

He peered more closely at her then, taking in her pale appearance and added in a kinder tone, “I’m sure you’re hungry. We’ll just head in and get you sorted into your house, and then an early night for the both of us. Don’t worry about the things that were lost in the attack - I’m sure one of your new housemates will share her things with you until they are replaced.”

With that, he pushed open the doors and ushered her in. In any normal circumstances, Eloise was sure that she would have been absolutely in awe of the breathtaking appearance that greeted her. It was simply…for lack of a better word, magical. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky above the castle, stars glimmering through the wispy purple clouds that covered the ceiling. There were thousands of candles floating in the air, illuminating the hall in a soft, golden light.

She couldn’t focus on any of that.

As soon as Fig opened the double doors, the low chatter that filled the Great Hall slowly faded as everyone turned to look at who had entered. Eloise froze. Hundreds of faces all staring at her, filled with curiosity.

Judging her.

They must all know that she was a squib and didn’t actually belong there.

No. She had proved her magical capabilities earlier that day, albeit in a different manner than she had expected. She deserved to be here just as much as they did.

The teacher at the far end of the hall was saying something and the students surrounding her had begun to whisper amongst themselves. There was so much buzzing in her ears that she didn’t hear a word that was said. Then, a familiar voice - how in the world could it still be familiar after so much time? - broke through the fog and her head turned sharply to the side at the noise.

“Eloise?”

Her gaze met familiar hazel eyes as Leo quickly stood up, taking a step towards her before he caught himself and stayed where he was. If the shock hadn’t already been apparent enough in his voice, one look at his expression told Eloise everything. He hadn’t had any idea that she had been accepted to Hogwarts. After she had been burned off of the family tree by her mother, it was like she didn’t exist anymore. Of course he hadn’t known that she would be there.

Leo had changed since Eloise last saw him. Of course he did, she thought to herself. It had been five years, after all. The same unruly black curls, same eyes. And yet…he almost seemed a stranger to her. He was taller, face more angular and defined than it had been at thirteen. Voice deeper. But, the expression of vulnerability and guilt written all over his face was something she recognized well. It was the same expression that he had had the last time he saw her, the face she sometimes saw before falling asleep. Just as quickly as it flashed across his face however, it was gone, hidden behind a stony exterior. His expression hardened and he sat down just as quickly as he had stood up, quickly averting his eyes. The people around him were looking between them curiously, but before Eloise could even begin to process this new situation, she felt a gentle push on her shoulder.

Professor Fig had been talking to her. “…the Sorting Hat. You need to go up and get sorted into your house.”

She looked up at him and realized that he was gesturing to the front of the Great Hall, vaguely recalling how Leo had described the sorting ceremony in his first letter home from Hogwarts. Everyone was still staring.

Well, let them, she thought. Eloise tossed her braid over her shoulder and lifted her head high, straightening her posture in the meantime. Did it matter if everyone was staring at her? She determined that if people were going to be whispering about her, speculating about her, she would give them something to talk about. About the girl who was admitted in her fifth-year at Hogwarts. The girl who surpassed them all.

Eloise shook off Professor Fig’s hand and walked to the raised platform, where there was a stool and a professor waiting with an ancient wizarding hat in her hands. As Eloise sat down, a semicircle of professors behind her and the tables of students in front of her, the hat was placed on top of her head. It was so formless and well-worn that the faded fabric slid over her eyes and she was surrounded by darkness.

Hmm…interesting, a voice purred in her mind. Eloise jumped at the sound. Don’t worry, dear. I won’t hurt you, although I suppose that not everyone would say that. My, my. You have had a rough go of things, haven’t you?

It’s not often I get to sort a new fifth-year student. She realized that it was the hat talking to her. Always much more interesting, you see. The first-years are always fun because I get to see their potential and who they will turn out to be, but even that can be fallible sometimes. People are shaped by their experiences.

An older student, though? Someone closer to the person they will be, with more experiences that have shaped them? Oh yes, these are the ones I like the most.

Wait, thought Eloise. You’ve sorted others like me before?

Oh yes. A pause. The voice purred in her ear. I can see the hunger for knowledge in you. But…Ravenclaw seems too simplistic. Behind the intelligence lies great ambition. A desire to prove yourself. Prove you belong. Yes, you may have had a rough life but you have managed to use what’s around you to your advantage. So, you must be a…

“SLYTHERIN!”

Eloise started at the sudden shout, realizing that it must have been out loud. As the hat was pulled off of her head, she could see the students at the table at the far end of the hall, the one Leo was at, break into furious whispers amongst each other. The teacher with her smiled kindly and pointed Eloise in their direction. “That’s the Slytherin table, dear. Once you sit down, we can begin eating.”

Eloise got up numbly and slowly walked towards the table. The whispering got louder as she neared it, and the students kept shooting her glances. Most seemed simply curious about the new, older student who had just been sorted into Slytherin, but others looked at her with hostility. Two students moved aside and motioned to her.

“Figured you would rather sit with us than the first years.”

The girl who spoke gave her an appraising look, taking in her muggle clothing and mussed-up hair. Eloise sat down next to her, nervously smoothing her hands over her skirt. Now that the sorting was over and she was actually interacting with her future classmates, she felt exhausted and completely unable to keep up her facade of nonchalance.

“I was going to ask if you like quidditch but…judging by your clothes -“

“Gods, Imelda,” came a drawling voice to Eloise’s left. “Can’t you give the poor girl a break? Not even one second at our table and you’re already trying to recruit her for the team.”

The boy who spoke gave an amused look to Imelda before turning to Eloise. “You’ll want to watch out for that one - if she even gets a whiff of the fact you can fly a broom, she’ll be out to recruit -“

“It’s not my fault!” Imelda interrupted forcefully, smacking her hands on the table and leaning over Eloise to talk to him. “Our best players all graduated last year and I have it cut out for me -“

“- you to the Slytherin team,” the boy concluded, ignoring Imelda’s heated protests. She sat back with a huff and crossed her arms. “Just ignore her. It’s what we’ve found works best. I’m Sebastian Sallow and this is Ominis Gaunt. Two people you will actually want to spend time with.”

He stuck his tongue out at Imelda as he held his hand out to Eloise. The boy across from them snickered quietly to himself as he listened to Imelda splutter in denial. Eloise shook Sebastian’s hand hesitantly. “Eloise. And actually,” she added, turning to Imelda, “I do know what quidditch is. Unfortunately, I’ve never ridden a broom though.”

That got Imelda going again, this time about how it was absolutely impossible that someone could know about the existence of quidditch without ever touching a broom. She seemed to be of the opinion that knowing of its existence meant an undying desire to learn how to play. “So you’re not a mudblood, then? Oh, who am I kidding - of course you’re not. We’re in Slytherin, after all. But how…”

Fortunately, food started appearing on the table before Imelda could finish her thought. It was enough to move her attention from Eloise as she began to pile different foods on her plate. To be quite honest, Eloise was relieved. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell others about her circumstances, especially during this first night before she knew anyone. Would they think differently of her if they knew that she had been disowned from her family and presumed a squib?

Who was she kidding? Of course everyone would judge her for that. Besides, she knew she wanted to talk to Leo before revealing anything - maybe he could help her get a feel for how to approach the situation. If he wanted to even associate with her, that is. Once again, the thought passed through her mind that he could have changed through the years, just as she had. Their parents could be quite persuasive, and more often than not the two siblings had learned that it was easier to go along with them than against.

Leo had grown up with the adoration of their parents, showing magical prowess at the young age of three, when his favorite toys started following him around in a little parade. Eloise, on the other hand…as the years passed and she still wasn’t showing signs of anything at all, not even a measly show of a sneeze blowing her away, their parents started working to distance the siblings from each other. It hadn’t been very effective and yet…without her presence, she could see him moving on in his life. Just as she had tried to do.

A sharp poke to her side. Eloise jumped and looked at Sebastian. “Aren’t you going to eat anything? You need to grab the good things before they’re gone - it’s every man out for himself during the feasts.”

She looked around and, sure enough, the food on the plates was steadily going down. It all looked absolutely delicious - mountains of meat, bread, puddings…her stomach growled loudly as she took it all in. Eloise hurriedly started putting the closest food to her on her plate, reaching over to give herself a heaping serving of mashed potatoes on the side. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he replied after swallowing the food he was eating. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day if you arrived that late to the sorting ceremony. As you walked up to the stool, Ominis and I had a bet about which house you would be sorted into. I told him, after my first glance at you, that I could tell you’d be one of us, but unfortunately, he - “

“Hey! I can hear you,” Ominis said from across the table, leaning forward slightly. Eloise realized that he was blind - his eyes had no pupils at all. His gaze was unfocused but his head turned in her direction. He explained, “I could only sense your form as you walked down the Hall. And, for the record, before Sebastian can say otherwise, I said I could tell you would be a Slytherin. Will the blind jokes ever get old?”

“As long as I have breath in my body - hey!”

Ominis had thrown a roll at Sebastian’s head which, surprisingly, hit its mark.

“I might not be able to see what just happened, but I know that I’ve just won,” Ominis said smugly, returning his attention to his plate.

Eloise just sat there, not really knowing how to react. This time, it was Imelda’s turn to say, “just ignore them. Luckily, we won’t need to see much more of them as the feast’s finishing up.” She wrinkled her nose in Sebastian’s direction, a gesture that was swiftly returned. Even though she had just met the three of them, Eloise couldn’t help but feel happy just listening to their back-and-forth. She did feel a twinge of…something, though, knowing that she could have been with them since their first year, if only her magic had shown itself sooner.

Mountains of dessert started to replace the remnants of the dinner: plum pudding, lemon tarts, cakes…it was more dessert in one place than Eloise had ever seen in her life. None of the students held back at all trying to get their favorites, especially if it was at the expense of another. The atmosphere was electric - everyone was excited to be back among their friends and catch up over everything that had happened the summer before, and Eloise was happy to just be among them.

She reached for a lemon tart, and when she looked up, she saw that Leo was staring at her intently. He looked away as soon as they made eye contact, but the moment didn’t go past Imelda’s notice.

“Do you know him?” she asked, nodding towards Leo. Eloise flushed and looked down at her plate, nodding reluctantly. She knew as soon as they went through role call the next day, everyone would know that she was a Babbit.

“Yes, he’s…er -“

Eloise broke off, grabbing the nearest goblet of pumpkin juice and drinking the whole thing in one go. When she came up for air, Imelda was still looking at her expectantly. Eloise took a deep breath and tried continuing, but… “I’m not really sure,” is all that came out of her mouth.

Imelda furrowed her brow, clearly trying to figure out how that answer made sense and Eloise wasn’t about to clarify for her. Although it wouldn’t be long before it got out that they were siblings, she wasn’t sure how much she wanted these new acquaintances to know about her at the moment. She had had enough pitying looks to last her a lifetime, and she just knew that once they found out she had been a squib…

“Hey Sebastian,” a pretty blonde girl said, leaning towards the group. She shot Eloise a curious glance but quickly looked back at her target. “Where’s Anne? Is she still gone this year? What a pity…the two of you are…were…sewn together at the hip and I was looking forward to finally being the one who gets between the two of you this year.” At this, the girls surrounding her started tittering and she flipped her hair over her shoulder and pouted. “I thought there would be more of a challenge. But if you’re going to be the changed Sebastian again this year…”

“Who’s…” Eloise trailed off as she saw Sebastian’s expression. It had changed into something almost unrecognizable - at least, to someone who had only known him for all of forty-five minutes. He was looking at the girl with a mixture of barely-controlled fury and…something else that Eloise couldn’t quite place. She shrank away from him as she took in his stricken expression.

“She’s still sick,” he said shortly as he stood up. His hands bunched into tight fists and his body was shaking. Sebastian quickly turned and stormed down the hall. They all watched him go in silence; once he left, the blonde girl turned to Ominis.

“Gods, what’s his problem? So what if she misses a few days of school?” She looked around at everyone, pouting. “You all know I’m right. Last year he was a mess but he should be getting over it by now.”

“You always speak before thinking, Victoria,” Ominis said tersely, getting up. “One of these days, it’s going to get you in trouble. If you keep this up, when that happens nobody will be around to help you pick up the pieces.” With that, he strode away after Sebastian.

Eloise blinked and looked around. The rest of the students were starting to get up and slowly move towards their respective common rooms having finished their dessert, and the prefects were starting to herd the first-years along. Victoria laughed weakly and turned to her friends, effectively ignoring Eloise and Imelda as if they weren’t there. “I think the summer holidays have made people extra sensitive this year. I honestly don’t know what their problem is.”

“Come on, then,” said Imelda, shooting Victoria a dirty look. “Let’s head to the dorms.”

Eloise stood up and started following Imelda’s lead. She was parting the students with ease as she walked through the crowd. Her strides were so long that Eloise had to half-jog to keep up with her. “Our common room is in the dungeons,” Imelda said, looking over her shoulder at Eloise. “The other houses are creeped out by it, but they haven’t actually seen it. You’ll see.”

Because of how quickly Imelda strode through the corridors and down the stairs, Eloise didn’t have much time to take in the rest of the castle. She did however realize that they were winding through the corridors in such a way that she would be hopelessly lost if Imelda weren’t with her. The two of them arrived at the Slytherin common room well before the other students due to Imelda’s fast pace. As they entered the common room after saying the correct password - basilisk - Eloise couldn’t help but look around in wonder. There was light piano music playing in the background - Chopin, Eloise thought she recognized it from her piano lessons at the muggle school. Even though the overall tones of the place were cool - blues and greens filtering through the tall glass windows and from the lamps, the checkered marble floors and columns giving off an air of cold elegance - the beautiful rugs and happily crackling fires made it all come together and seem oddly cozy. Various tables and desks were scattered around the space, and comfortable looking armchairs and couches crowded around low tables. Eloise could just picture it teeming with students studying after class or hanging out on the weekends. She knew that it was a place that could finally feel like home to her.

“I tried, Ominis,” came a hushed whisper from near the windows. Imelda and Eloise froze at the entrance to the common room and glanced at each other. “I just can’t do it. I know what you and Anne told me but…”

“Sebastian. Anne doesn’t want you to wallow and waste your time here worrying about her. I know that you’re worried for her. I mean, I am too. You know she’s like a sister to me.”

“You have no idea,” Sebastian interrupted fiercely. His back was hunched over and he was holding his face in his hands. “It should have been me. I can’t live with myself. With this guilt.”

“No, you -“ Ominis cut himself off as the sound of the other students filtering in started to fill the room. The boys abruptly sat up straighter, although they didn’t look at each other. Oblivious to the tension between the two, a group of second-years sat on the sofa right next to them, as they excitedly caught up with each other.

“I’ll show you our room,” Imelda said, turning to Eloise. “It gets pretty crazy here the first night back from any holidays, with everyone catching up. I don’t know about you, but I want to get some sleep! Quidditch tryouts are next week and I already know how exhausting it will be.”

Eloise really was exhausted, and nothing sounded better to her than finally going to sleep. The dorms seemed to be set up so that the stairs going up led to the girls’ dormitories, and the ones going down to the boys’. Imelda explained that it was due to the fact that boys weren’t to be trusted, and the stairs would turn into a slide if any boy attempted to go up them. It wasn’t something that Eloise had even considered, due to the fact that she had just come from an all-girls school, but she flushed at the implication.

As they reached the staircase, they almost crashed into Sebastian. Imelda had been marching towards the stairs with a single-minded determination and Sebastian had been heading towards his with just as much purpose.

Eloise bounced off of his shoulder. She grabbed her own, wincing slightly. He was more solid than he looked. He looked blankly at the two girls before shaking his head and realizing where they were. “Gods, I’m so sorry. I’m just -“ he gave his head another little shake and saw that Eloise was holding her shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s fine,” Eloise reassured him. She gave a small smile. “I’ve had worse, it’s really nothing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted Imelda. She shot Sebastian a concerned look. “Go to bed. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Imelda shook her head sadly and the girls resumed their path. “Poor boy. He hasn’t been the same since the summer after our third year. I mean, he was always kind of obsessive, but in a charming way. He was on the quidditch team with me, and always really determined to be the absolute best, always working hard to show all of the other students they don’t even know half as much as he does. That sort of thing, you know? It’s not like he was insufferable, his charm drew everyone to him.”

She held the door open and Eloise walked in. It was a cozy circular room, with five four-poster beds. A small fire in the middle of the room warmed the whole place up, and Eloise was relieved to see it. When Imelda had told her that their dormitory was in the dungeons, she had immediately pictured a dark, cold, slimy space. Only one of the beds didn’t have trunks placed at its foot, and Eloise went straight to it. Her trunk had been lost in the dragon attack. She was relieved to see a nightgown laid on top of the bed and a pair of green slippers neatly lined up on the floor; she hadn’t been sure what she would wear.

Imelda sat down heavily on the bed next to Eloise’s and started unlacing her boots. She continued talking. “Then, in our fourth year, he comes to school after summer holidays. Alone. He hasn’t been the same since. Nobody’s quite sure what’s going on with his sister, except that it’s bad. She’s not expected to live much longer.”

“Oh my god,” breathed Eloise. “I can’t even imagine.”

“Me neither.” Imelda shook her head. “He got into trouble left and right last year, there were even rumors of a duel…I don’t think there was a single week where he didn’t have detention. I mean, I don’t blame him, but - he was taken off the team! This year he better not, I can’t afford to lose my best beater again.”

The girls continued chattering quietly to themselves about other topics as they got ready for the night. Slipping into their nightgowns, braiding each others’ hair, and, finally, slipping under the freshly turned bed covers. Eloise turned towards Imelda and simply whispered, “thank you.” Although they had just met, Eloise felt certain in the knowledge that she had just made her first friend.

Imelda waved her off. “It’s nothing. Get some sleep, the first day of classes is always overwhelming. I can’t even imagine starting as a fifth-year.”

With that, she rolled over and soon Eloise heard her breathing deepen as she fell asleep. She stared at the canopy covering her bed for what seemed like an eternity. The low murmurs of the other girls as they came in and got ready for bed slowly morphed into drowsy good-nights, until finally the room was silent except for the steady tick of a clock and their breathing.

As tired as she felt, Eloise couldn’t stop the racing of her mind. It felt like the last few days had more action than the entirety of her life. Even though banished had, at the time, been incredibly momentous for her, it paled in comparison to finding out that she actually was a witch and had been admitted to Hogwarts. She had used magic for the first time today. The rush of power that ran through her body when she cast spells was unlike anything else she had ever experienced. It just felt right. Like some part of her that had been hidden away had finally made itself known and she felt whole for the first time. She wondered if everyone else felt that same rush, that same desire to know and master absolutely every aspect of magical knowledge. She had been given a gift that until now had felt like a pathetic little daydream and she wasn’t about to waste it now that she had it.

The clock kept on ticking lazily and still Eloise was awake. She eventually got up and after shrugging on a robe and slipping on the green slippers, headed towards the common room. She and Imelda hadn’t spent much time in it earlier, and she wanted to see it at least once without any people, maybe as a space just for herself.

As it was even later in the night - it must have been around three - the fire had been extinguished and the light filtering through the windows had turned an even deeper shade of emerald green. It covered the mahogany furniture with an eerie light, as if Eloise had stepped into some strange underworld instead of the empty Slytherin common room. She trailed her hand along the velvet back of a sofa, mesmerized by the stark contrast of the green highlights and black shadows as her hand moved. Lazily twirling a globe as she walked past, the room silent except for her muffled footsteps.

It was precisely the silence that absorbed her completely. Being alone had always been her favorite thing; there was just something so special about being the only person in a place, feeling as if you were the only holder of some great secret. Eloise made her way towards the tall glass windows as if in a dream, not really noticing anything of her surroundings and yet taking it all in. The feeling of being there.

When she heard the soft voice she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“You couldn’t sleep either?”

Eloise whirled towards the voice, feeling as if her heart was about to burst through her chest. The student - a male - was sitting by one of the windows. Since the only light source was the windows, his face was entirely shrouded in black. Eloise was suddenly very aware of how indecently she was dressed to be outside of her dormitory. The sudden change from complete, eerie tranquility was shattered and she wrapped her robe more tightly around her, keeping her arms hugged around her body.

“Who -“

The boy straightened up, tilting his head back toward the window and, with the aid of the green light, Eloise saw that it was Ominis.

“What are you doing down here, Ominis? You almost gave me a heart attack! You’re sitting in the shadows and I thought I was alone.”

“I could ask the same of you,” he said simply, the hint of an amused smirk gracing his features. “And, might I add, I didn’t mean to scare you on purpose. I thought you were purposely walking towards me. For all I know, it could be the break of dawn and I’m basking in the early rays of the sun.”

Eloise’s jaw dropped open in mortification. She had completely forgotten that he was blind. “How did you know that I was walking towards you?” She clapped her hands over her mouth in horror, the words leaving before she could stop them. What was wrong with her? With her sudden movement, her robes had fallen open again, revealing her nightgown, but she was too distraught over possibly having offended Ominis than continuing to follow the rules of propriety. “Oh Merlin’s beard, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

He just huffed quietly. They hadn’t spoken much at dinner, and Eloise was positive that he was angry with her. Maybe he had only acknowledged her presence because his best friend had seen fit to talk with her. Growing up blind, it would make sense for him to be sensitive to any comments regarding it…her face was flushed with mortification and guilt, and she slowly started backing away. Eloise figured it was better to just end the whole encounter being ruder still by making a hasty retreat, than to put her foot in her mouth once again and risk offending him more.

“No, wait,” Ominis said as soon as he realized she was walking away. His voice was choked with emotion and it seemed difficult for him to get the words out. Eloise froze and looked at him. His whole body was shaking, and she couldn’t tell if he was angry or…

Was he laughing?

“I might be blind, but I’m not deaf. In this silence, I would have been able to notice if anyone had entered the room even if they were trying to be sneaky, which you certainly were not. Stay, if you want.”

Eloise hesitated, then took the seat across from Ominis in the window. She nervously smoothed her nightgown over her legs. “Just so you know, you’re completely in shadow. If you hadn’t said anything, I probably would have walked right past you without realizing that you were here too.”

“I’ll choose a better spot to sit next time then, when I can’t fall asleep in the middle of the night,” he replied seriously. If not for the fact that he had just been teasing her, she would have thought that he was really taking what she said into consideration. “You never answered my original question. You can’t sleep?”

Eloise shook her head, then quickly added, “no. So much has happened these last few days…my brain always has a hard time turning off. Especially after a day like today.”

Ominis hummed in understanding, tilting his head towards her. The green light filtering through the water danced over his gaunt features, making his cheekbones and the dark circles under his eyes more prominent. His pupil-less eyes glowed eerily in the light. “I can only imagine. You arrived late to the sorting, and your aura was very unnerving as you stepped into the Great Hall. I immediately knew something was extraordinary about you.”

“My…aura?”

“Yes. I might not be able to see, but my wand does it for me. It’s hard to explain but…I can sense the people around me. I can’t make out features, but everyone has their own unique aura radiating from them. Yours is…different.”

Different? It must have something to do with the fact she hadn’t had any magical ability until recently. Maybe it was stunted or…maybe her aura was different due to the stress of the day.

“I saw someone murdered in front of me today,” Eloise blurted out before she could stop herself. Ominis didn’t look surprised by her sudden outburst, he merely remained still as he waited for Eloise to continue. “It was…shocking. A dragon came out of nowhere and just ripped our carriage in half, taking Mr. Osric with it. The worst part is…I’m-I’m shocked because it happened. But I’m not sad. I don’t feel the horror I think I should be feeling, and that is more horrifying to me. When I was lying in bed, the events of today kept replaying in my mind on a loop and I kept on trying to make myself feel the correct emotions. But I couldn’t. Something inside of me is broken.”

Eloise looked down at her hands, fingers wringing and untwisting together in her lap. She tried to force herself to sit as still as Ominis, but it was impossible. She couldn’t believe how easy it was to unload all of this onto a stranger, but he didn’t seem to mind listening. There was silence for a few minutes, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Eloise peeked at Ominis from under her lashes. The boy appeared to be deep in thought.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” he finally said. “It’s normal for me, though. I also have a hard time turning off my thoughts, especially at night. This little corner of the common room feels like mine, in a sense. I’ve been coming here to think since I was a first-year. Maybe I subconsciously chose this place because, if you’re right, it’s more hidden than the rest. Nobody will see me if they’re sneaking around late at night, and it’s so peaceful.”

“That I can agree with,” said Eloise. “I actually came down here to see what it was like when it’s empty. I don’t quite know how to explain it, but this place already feels like home to me. A far sight better than the place I left behind. Places.”

“If you want me to leave, I’m fine with giving up my hiding place for a worthy cause.”

“No,” Eloise said quickly. “I…I like having you here. With me. It means I don’t have to be alone with my thoughts.”

Ominis smiled and tilted his head, not quite looking at her in that odd way of his. “It’s nice, talking to you. Most people avoid me. I can’t imagine why.”

Eloise huffed in quiet laughter. They sat in silence for a while longer, until Ominis broke it again. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But…am I correct in guessing that you and Leo Babbit know each other?”

Eloise’s breath hitched in her throat. She still wasn’t sure how much of her past she wanted people to know…but she also knew that as soon as the day broke the castle would be swirling with rumors. And, as much as she hated the thought, the truth would come out one way or another. She had been lucky enough so far…her name hadn’t been said at the sorting due to the unusual circumstances. But, come morning, everyone would put the pieces together once her name was called out by a teacher.

She could test the waters with someone like Ominis, who seemed like the sort of fellow who would take it in stride.

“I…like I said, you don’t have to tell me,” Ominis said softly.

“No! No, it’s fine,” Eloise assured him. “It’s…complicated. I would prefer if it never came out but…if the school I was at before is any indication, everyone will know by lunch tomorrow regardless of if I say anything or not.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “My full name is Eloise Babbit. Leo is my brother.”

Ominis showed no reaction. It gave her the strength to continue.

“I was rejected by my family. As the years went by and I still wasn’t showing any signs of magic, I was ignored by my parents in favor of Leo. When my eleventh year came and went without any acceptance letter to Hogwarts, I had to come to terms with the fact that I was actually a squib. Up until then, I had held onto the hope and the day I lost that, I lost everything. I was banished and burned off of the family tree, like I never existed. Until a few days ago, I was learning how to become a perfect muggle wife at one of their horrid finishing schools. My family had already prepared a marriage for me to a prominent muggle family, reasoning that I could at least give them important connections.” She spat that last word out. Even speaking the words was a bitter reminder of the life she had almost led. “Based on Leo’s reaction, he definitely didn’t know that I had been admitted to Hogwarts. I don’t even know what’s worse: if my parents knew and decided not to tell him, or if the fact that I was burned off the family tree means that they wouldn’t have received a notification.”

She stared at her hands again. What was it about this boy that made her want to unload everything to him? Yes, he had asked her about it, but she still felt guilty for talking to him at all. Like somehow, telling him would make it his problem as well.

“If there’s anyone in this school who understands the horrors of one’s family, it’s me,” he said. Eloise looked up at him in surprise. He chuckled quietly, as if he could see her expression. “My family are direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin. Absolutely stark-raving mad, pureblood fanatics. We’ve gotten quite reclusive in the past hundred years or so, and don’t have much contact with the outside world. Your family’s inbreeding resulted in fear of giving birth to a potential squib. Mine, in the form of a useless, blind son who has no interest in continuing their crazy beliefs. I guess you could say we are two kindred souls. Maybe that’s what your aura was trying to tell me earlier this evening.”

“I guess so,” Eloise replied. Both could tell that the other wasn’t saying everything on their mind, but she wanted to give him the same comfort he had offered her and decided not to pry. “Thank you, Ominis.”

He inclined his head towards her and then moved his unseeing gaze to the large stained glass window. They sat there for quite some time, at least it felt that way to Eloise. The passage of time seemed not to exist as she and Ominis sat there, deep inside their own thoughts. Formless shadows danced behind the window, their regular movements helping to calm her thoughts. After what seemed like an eternity, Eloise found herself stifling a yawn.

“It seems your day has finally caught up with you,” Ominis said, smiling softly. “I think it’s best if we head to bed. Hogwarts might be more progressive than the muggle school you’ve just escaped, but if anyone sees us here together it would just further the rumors already swirling around you.”

Eloise nodded her assent and stood up slowly. She hadn’t realized how much time they had spent there until she felt the stiffness in her muscles that only comes from remaining still for a very long time. Ominis also got up slowly, gracefully stretching out his long body in the process. As he stood, she saw him grab his wand out of his pocket, and it began glowing a faint red as he walked. That must be how he gets around, she thought to herself. He did say his wind has a mind of its own.

She followed him and they slowly made their way to the two sets of stairs leading to the dormitories. They paused once they were about to part. “Goodnight, Ominis.”

“Goodnight, Eloise. I’ll see you tomorrow. Or rather, I’ll sense your presence later on this morning.” He gave her a faint smile and then turned to head down the stairs leading to his dormitory. Eloise stood there, watching until she couldn’t see the red glow of his wand anymore. With a yawn, she turned towards her room and soon slipped under the covers, sleep finally coming. Before she fell asleep, she had only the fleeting realization that Ominis had not actually answered her question.

The title is a link to everything on ao3, but just in case you didn’t catch that, here it is🫶

next chapter

#let me know what you think about this chapter🥹🫶#I love the painting bc I hope it captures how Eloise was feeling….#she does NOT like being noticed #I’m about to go to the beach #and I hope I can swim😭 normally the sea where I live is pretty cold #but this summer is so warm that there are SO MANY JELLYFISH AND PORTUGUESE MAN O WARS😭😫😭😫😭😫#yesterday there I was swimming around like a fool bc I just do laps across the beach back and forth #and less than an hour later all of these jellyfish were being washed up on the shore😳#like you couldn’t even walk barely on the sand😳😳#I almost met my demise…..#in all honesty I suppose they would just sting and overall I might be fine #BUT THAT IS MY WORST FEAR……….#my city even created a special jellyfish flag to put up so that people know what they’re getting themselves into when they swim #but they never put it up until people start being stung😭😭#ok none of this was that interesting😆😆 but there you go #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanart #hphl #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy mc #eloise babbit #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #also this is probably the longest chapter #so hopefully it’s not too crazy and you actually read it💓💓💓

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imagoddamnonionmason · 6 months ago

Text

Unknown Soldier

Fandom: Call of Duty Word Count: 5985 (sorry) Summary: Jodie Hall, callsign Bell, is faced with the revelation that she is not who she's been made to believe she is. Feeling betrayed, with memories rushing back, all she wants is a little bit of air.

A/N: Hello! This is a rewrite of the cutscene where Bell finds out they're brainwashed but written for my version of Bell! Hope you enjoy, pls let me know what you think :) Slight implied woods/bell, but at this point in the story they're not really a thing yet

Read on!

CIA SAFE HOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN” Jodie "Bell" Hall, MI6 52.5200 N, 13.4050 E, West Berlin March 14, 1981

As Bell worked to open her eyes, the lights above left sparking spots dancing across her vision. She attempted to block out that sickly light with her right hand, but found resistance against her limbs. Sluggishly, she moved her head to the side, eyes pained to focus on the leather straps that restricted her movement, that pinned her to the gurney beneath her back. Her mind was fogged, encased in a painful ache that even the tiniest movement made her stomach lurch and her body wishing it could anywhere but there.

Beside the gurney was Sims, his arms folded over his chest and eyes watching her so very intently, scrutinising her, judging her. Bell may be feeling like her mind was a million miles away from her physical body, but she was not stupid; he was regarding her with a deep seated hatred and it burned her skin.

He muttered, calling out to someone, “she’s coming to.”

In an instant, Adler was in their presence, leaning over her as he placed his hands firmly on her shoulders. The grip was tight, edging towards being painful, and Bell winced against the pain. He did not care, instead, his voice loomed over her, deep and assertive, “Bell, no more fucking around. What did Perseus say? Where is he?”

Her eyes met his, though her sight was blurred, fighting incredibly hard to focus. There was a brief thought that danced across her mind, as the fog started to rise and her brain began to settle down from whatever heights it had been at before. Her head shifted back, an attempt to put more space between her and Adler, only for the gurney to keep her rigidly in place; the thoughts became clearer, incessant, and she found that the voice in her head grew louder than the voice of the man before her. It screamed that she was clueless, lost, and everything was a lie.

Her voice was small, as her sweat slicked brow furrowed, “who am I?”

There was a flicker of derision on Adler’s scarred features, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, soon replaced by a concern that did not sit right with Bell. His voice grew soft, levelled with a sense of urgency, “you’re disoriented, Bell. We’ll explain everything later. Right now, we need to help each other.”

Her dark eyes remained on him for a moment longer, growing darker as clarity finally came about her. Memories flashed across her mind’s eye, so quickly that the course of events overlapped and flitted in a slurry of blurred images, headache inducing and raw. The drugs that had pumped through her system burned inside her veins, the ingenuity of her captors seared across her skin as their eyes bore straight through her. These people wouldn’t help her, they had her tied down to a damn gurney.

“Bullshit,” she spat, lurching against the restraints.

“Bullshit is what your whole life will amount to if you don’t come clean.” Adler leant closer, a sneer on his features as a low growl roughened the edges of his vocals, “tell us where Perseus is.”

While Adler and Sims were settled by the left of the gurney, Park stepped into the light by the right and her hands came to rest on Bell’s forearm - it was a calmer sensation, gentle in some way, a reminder that Bell might still have someone. But there was the instinctual desire to tear herself away, denied the right by the restraints.

Park spoke, as softly and calmly as her touch attempted to coerce Bell to feel, “you were one of Perseus’ agents, Bell, and his associate, Arash Kadivar, turned on you at the airstrip in Turkey. He left you for dead.”

She was partly right. Bell could feel it, knew it, deep down, that there was a truthful essence to those words; but they had it completely wrong, too. At the edges of the very recesses of her conscious mind, after all the drugs, the conditioning, there were glimpses of memories that belonged to the woman that Bell once was. After a second of reaching for them, desperately clinging to that consciousness, she found that those memories came forward, rushing at her in a cold wash of dread.

In her fingerless gloved hands, a thick file, filled to the brim with bountiful knowledge that, in the right hands, could end Perseus in his steps and see him rot in Hell. Her eyes settled over the Russian text, reading it over and over, as a reluctance to hand it over to her counterpart weighed heavy in her chest.

This is the information that she had been asked to collect, to give to Agent Wells when they next met, and yet she could not find an ample opportunity to stash it away. Eyes were on her, ever present and lingering, as though they knew exactly what part she was playing.

The hand of Arash Kadivar is out to her from her right, waiting expectantly, urged to hand over the files with the slight wiggle of his index and middle fingers. Forcing herself not to hesitate, Nadežda placed the files in his hand, the mask over her face hiding the reluctant grimace that flashed across it.

Arash opened the file, flicked through the pages, nodding as though something had been confirmed to him. He looked at her, offered her a cocky smile, then spoke, “when the plane leaves Trabzon, it stops in Duga. This you know.”

Nadežda nodded, brows twitching into a short lived furrow, as her heart skipped a few beats - the palpitations did not last long, willed away by the strength of her resolve to complete her mission. She had come so far and she was not about to lose sight of the end goal now.

“Here’s what you don’t know,” he continued, tilting his head slightly, as though gauging her reaction, “Perseus won’t be there.”

Now this was new information, a dash in the plans that she had not foreseen coming. Perhaps, she thought, these differences were ironed out in a meeting that she was not able to be present for, and could only hope for that to be the truth. But, Nadežda knew that the entire faction played with the semantics of the word truth, she played with it, and so found herself unable to commit to that notion.

She was singled out for a reason and her palms grew sweaty, as she tried her best to hide the nervous anticipation of Arash’s next words.

In turn, Arash waved his hand out to gesture at the collection of men and women working along the airstrip, the sight coming into view as they began to arrive. They were loading weapons into the plane that sat patiently on the airstrip, “none of these hired guns are going to leave Duga alive. We’ll dump their bodies in the forest. Then we will move the weapons to Volkov in Berlin.”

He handed the file back to Nadežda, though did not let go of it for a second. He was attempting to shake her confidence, to cause a fracture in her well designed facade, and he was met with failure.

“From there, we fly to Solovetsky,” the truck growled and spluttered, wheels screeching as the driver pushed his foot flat against the brake. The three bodies lurched forward with the ending motion. Nadežda hovered in her seat for a moment longer, as Arash stepped out of the vehicle and closed the door. The window had been set down, which now had Arash leaning over the lip of it. He ducked his head down, his shoulders bouncing in low-levelled laughter, before the chuckle grew into something mocking and scornful.

Arash spoke, words laced with disappointment and contempt, “Perseus has other plans for you, though. He thought so highly of you. Then it turns out you’re nothing but a traitorous dog.”

The dread had grown exponentially in her stomach, heavy and cool, driving ice through her veins and urging her body to react to the man drawing his pistol on her. However, she was taken off guard and though her reactions were fast, they were not enough to stop the event that was in motion.

As she began to aim her pistol at Arash, the bullet fired from his own and shredded straight through her upper left chest. It threw her body heavily against the door, blood splattering from the open wound and onto the frame. Nadežda knew she should feel pain, but instead she felt nothing, as adrenaline dulled it down to such an impossibly low level. It was screaming at her to use its masking to get away, to run, but all she could do was slump forward and try to protect the file she still had in her hands.

Arash then shot the driver, before he opened up the door and snatched the files from her hands.

“You can bleed out,” Arash snarled, “and while you die, know that everything you tried to do has amounted to fucking nothing.”

Desperately, sluggishly, she tried to reach for the files, but he pushed her away, leaving her to slowly fade into unconsciousness.

A voice broke through her reverie, booming, agonising, “we were there, Bell, we found you after everything went down.”

That’s right. She remembered the blistering heat of explosions, gunfire, screams, agonising screams-

Her door was pulled open, violently, and the stale air that clung to her dying form was sucked away as though caught in a vacuum. Hands were on her. Searching. Hands were on every inch on her but they found nothing but her blood. Gasping breath wracked her lungs, inflating them weakly as her own hands began their own blind search. They sought after the person next to her, fingers feebly clutching at unknown fabric.

End it.

You’ve come back to finish the job.

Do it.

“Over here! We’ve got a live one!”

American?

He’s American.

One name was present on her chapped lips, but her eyes could not focus on the blurred figure that pulled her up from her slouched position.

“Wells?”

No- No, it hadn’t been Wells, had it? It had been the bastard that had the nerve to stand beside her now, right? She couldn’t remember everything, no matter how much she fought to cling to the nuances; they were always just out of reach, just beyond her, and her instincts, again, screamed ‘don’t fucking trust anything. It's all lies. Lies.’

Through gritted teeth, tortured vocals hounded, “you’re lying- you put this shit in my head. You’re fucking lying-”

Impatience grew thick around Adler and his hands were back on Bell’s shoulders, shaking them, as he barked, “the CIA reinvented you, Bell. You fought against us every interrogation. You left us no choice. We gave you a new identity to replace the old.”

Flashes of those interrogations seared across her mind, burning holes and leaving scars. She’d never said a word and if she did, it was only ever to utter Agent Wells’ name. He’d told her not to trust any other agent, that the CIA had been compromised by a mole. She couldn’t have risked the information she had getting into the wrong hands, even if she was already destined for a destructive path. The last thing she would do in the face of her betrayal to Perseus was to make sure the information she had either reached Wells or died with her.

Adler continued, a hollow laugh filling the air, “it was Park’s idea to make you MI6. She wanted that bond with you. You even picked up a bit of her accent.”

Park tried her best to offer the woman before her a genuinely concerned, reassuring smile, but she was never able to tell whether Bell appreciated the effort. Her light eyes then focused on her colleague, brows furrowing as he continued, guilt beginning to sow seeds in her chest. His voice was quieter now, “we were able to utilise your language, your cryptography skills, they were an added bonus. The bigger challenge was your memory.”

Park interjected, hoping that her softer tones might be more palatable, begging that Bell could read between the lines and see that they did only what they thought was right, “the CIA’s MK-Ultra program used Adler’s missions in Vietnam as a template. We needed you to have that shared experience. A lifelong bond. We needed you to trust us, Bell.”

Bell hated that she could feel tears threaten to fall, as her throat clenched, sharp pains coursing down and into her chest, “you people are sick.”

Adler moved away, pointing in her direction with a judgemental glare, “are your hands clean, Bell?”

Again, she moved to rise, her anger flaring in the pit of her stomach, only for her dive for the other to be restricted, “fuck this- fuck you.”

His voice was ravaged by disgust, cold and menacing, “I don’t think so. You’re still holding back on us, and we are going to get it out of you.”

She felt sick.

She wanted to throw up.

To cave in on herself.

To fade.

Bell felt a whimper form in her throat, but would rather die than allow anyone to see her give in to her fear.

Then, he muttered, “we have a job to do.”

Her brain felt like it had just had a thousand volts of electrical current run through every synapse, crackling and stunning every inch of her being. It was like her emotions were torn from her, a factory reset taking over and forcing her into a baseline. Whatever she had been thinking about before, whatever memories from the past she had fought to hold onto, they were snatched within an instant and everything became a blinding white.

On the gurney, she convulsed, writhing and screaming in pain, as part of her battled against the conditioning.

In the end, she lost.

That white light scorched her sight, overtaking her vision, until flashes of a red door were all she could see. It was to her left. Then her right. Behind her. In front. It was all consuming, following her, unrelenting and torturous.

“The trigger phrase kept you in line, but it didn’t get us everything we needed,” Adler informed, now too invested in this reveal to give a damn about what this would mean for his subject. Did he even care to begin with?

The red door was now in front of her, the force of it dropping from above driving its base deep into a greyed concrete floor. Wherever she was, it was vague enough that she couldn’t place it in the real world. She was everywhere and nowhere, all at once.

“Your innermost secrets were always locked behind a door.” He added, then a sigh heaved through his nose, a tired look on his features as he came to stand by her left. His hands were on the gurney, taking the weight of his upper body as he leant forward, contemplative, “Bell, I realise you probably hate us right now.”

“Fucking understatement,” she spat.

“I need you to fully understand the stakes here. What you do right now is not about me, it’s not about you. It’s about millions of other fucking people. It’s about stopping someone who, in the end, has no true allegiance to anyone other than himself.” Adler clearly felt proud with that speech, and he removed his sunglasses to aid in gauging Bell’s thoughts. He kept his eyes locked with hers, intently searching the brown hues for any nuances, any flickers, something he could recognise as winning. He spoke impossibly soft, “tell me, Bell.”

A beat.

“Where is Perseus?”

Before her stood the man that had been with her since she was a child. Eyes that had once regarded her warmly, fatherly, now did so with cold synergy. She did not know what went on behind those eyes, she could never read his thoughts, nor could she even begin to understand the complexity that was him, Perseus, and so had given up trying years since. That had been until she had come across a wayward file, written words never intended for her own eyes to see and it had been the first glimpse into the kind of man that he was, the kind of man that shaped a child into a soldier and promised her everything, but gave her nothing.

For years she had known what he had done, that those eyes were filled to the brim with fallacies and delusions, contorted into orders and manipulation. Those were the years that she had spent sick to her stomach, playing a game of chess with the man that held all the cards. All the lies she had told, the lies she had lived, the lies she would continue to tell would all amount to nothing if she did not stick with it at this moment. She had to continue, to persevere.

His hands rested on her shoulders, as he offered her a warm smile that did not reach his eyes. In their native tongue, he spoke, addressing her tenderly, as a father would a daughter, “once we control the Greenlight arsenal, Nadežda, we will detonate them all from the safety of Solovetsky.”

The word ‘safety’ rang in her ears and she was reminded again why she was finally breaking free from his hold.

He had promised safety to her brother and he shattered it himself.

“Yes, from the safety of Solovetsky,” she had echoed.

“This is your chance to define who you really are, Bell. Tell us, where is Perseus?” Adler let the desperation slip through into his tone and Bell closed her eyes. They stung from the tears that wanted to form, that threatened to fall, but she wouldn’t let them. Eventually, when she opened up her eyes, she forced her gaze to stare at the ceiling. She could hear Perseus’ voice echoing against the inside of her skull and her rage began to build again.

Bell had been betrayed by Perseus her entire life, fed his lies over and over; then, agent Wells who had made her believe that she couldn’t have trusted those that now currently stand around her, he had betrayed her, too.

But whether she trusted Adler, Park and the rest now, or not, did not matter.

This was it, everything she could remember doing, everything she had fought for, what she had been destroyed for, it all came down to her next words.

Quietly, she murmured, “Solovetsky… It’s Solovetsky Monastery.”

He echoed her, then turned to Sims, “Sims, get Washington on the line. Everyone else, gear up, we’re leaving now.”

As Sims left the room, Bell was released from the restraints by Adler, “you made the right choice, Bell, come on, you’re still one of us.”

He moved to help her sit up, but she shrugged him off, pushing him away and seething, “don’t fucking touch me.”

“Bell,” Park started, then switched up, “Jodie-”

“Shut the fuck up-” Bell fought to get off the gurney as quickly as she could. Beside Park was a metal tray nestled atop a table, the contents being the copious amounts of drugs and the used needles that had kept Bell compliant throughout the session. Bell stumbled, knocking into this table, the tray clattering as her hand caught the lip of it in an attempt to steady herself. Adler and Park motioned to help, but Bell swatted them away and shot to the entryway of the room.

Leaning against the doorframe, she felt her stomach flip, empty of contents, but bile sloshing uncomfortably against the lining. It wanted to rise up her throat, burning the flesh raw. But, she ignored that feeling, willed it away, and pushed herself onward until she was in the open, stale air of the safe house. Her heart was pounding painfully against her ribcage, to a point where she believed that, if it beat hard enough, it would burst through the bone as though it was nothing but brittle china.

Eyes were on her. One set was hidden behind darkened glasses, steadily trailing her form and remaining stoic in the face of the situation; it was to be expected, the man was like ice. Hudson stood, leant at an angle against what he had claimed as his desk, arms folded over his chest as he kept a hawklike watch on her actions.

The other two sets were nestled by the van and their owners moved their sight to her, warily concerned, as they rose from their seated positions. Mason began to walk towards hers, hand out to help steady her, but she quickly stepped back. He hovered in place, then withdrew his hand and retreated from her. His tones were laced with a cold sensation, torn at the edges, and his eyes glowered at the direction of the room she had just come from. Mason could feel a heat burning in his chest, spreading like a wildfire until the anger singed at his fingertips and lapped at the edges of his mind. Sharply, he asked, “Is Adler finished with you?”

His question did not reach her. All she wanted was air, cool and refreshing and free of anyone else.

Bell needed to be outside. She needed to be out of the damn safe house, out of their company.

She wanted out.

“I need some air,” was all she could breathe, taking brisk steps past the man before her. Mason turned his body to follow after her, but froze himself to the spot, as he shot Woods a look. He was speaking volumes without having to use his voice and Woods knew better than anyone that Mason was pissed.

There was part of him that asked when does this kind of thing end? It should have ended with him. Yet, here he was, staring after a woman who had been put through the same horrendous agony. Maybe, deep down, he knew that this is what had become of that woman from the airstrip, but to have it confirmed… it caused a rage he’d not felt in years to boil up.

He supposed this was just another thing Hudson had kept from him, from Woods. Perhaps it’s because they would have shot it down, the idea of destroying someone completely and utterly. Who knows? And in that moment, Mason quite frankly couldn’t have given less of a fuck about the reasons.

At the exit of the safehouse, Bell was slumped headfirst against the door, hands fumbling about the face of it in search of the handle. She felt as though she was drunk, body battling the effect of the drugs that had been pumped through her veins. Her ears were ringing, pulsating, and with each throb she felt her heart ache more intensely than it had seconds before. As she focused on steadying her breathing, she didn’t acknowledge the sounds of voices behind her, gaining on her position.

“Bell, do not go through that door,” it was Adler. He was firm, cold, and his footsteps were frantic as they approached. Her hand finally grasped the cold doorknob, twisting it in a stubborn response to his order, but before she could escape into the cool air outside, his hands were on her.

The second she felt his touch on her, she turned on him like a wild animal. Her sight was entirely consumed by pounding red, like fire scorching her skin and lighting a fury in her core. The rage coiling within her chest burned so violently, blindly, that she was acting before her mind could quell it. Instinct was in control now, leading the charge against the threat it perceived in Adler. In one quick thrust, her enclosed fist flew out to strike his face. Her knuckles collided with his chin, rocking him backwards.

He took a few stumbling steps, but ultimately he remained standing, a hand cupping the area that she had made contact with. His glasses were gone, the force of the hit throwing them from his features, leaving behind the unobstructed thinning glare he sent her way.

“I said, don’t fucking touch me,” she seethed, as their team came to stand between them. Woods was by her side, hands hovering over her; he didn’t want to touch her, less he received the same treatment Adler had. One thing he noted, however, was that she didn’t even acknowledge his presence. Bell acknowledged no-one, other than Adler, and her searing glare burned right through him and to the man behind.

“Take a walk, Bell,” Woods uttered, shooting a daring glance over his shoulder, wishing someone would just try and say that she couldn’t. If he had to, he’d stand and guard the damn door.

“She’s not going outside alone,” Adler muttered, as Park tugged him back further into the safe house.

“You goin’ to stop her,” Woods snapped, turning away from the woman that was still at his side. He could still feel that glare, hear the steadying deep breaths fill her lungs as she fought the rage within her. He then snapped at her, “I said take a walk.”

He accentuated his words with a firm point to the door, his arm hovering just over her right shoulder. It was then that she broke her eye contact with Adler, sending that hateful gaze towards Woods; the heat faltered when it was faced with this new person, lessening considerably. It was then that he saw it, the slight crack of a facade he hadn’t even realised she’d been wearing. There was the slight ghost of tears welling in her waterline, but Woods didn’t have the opportunity to see if they came to fruition, as she was turning and throwing herself through the door like her very life depending on escaping.

It slammed, leaving behind the team in silence.

As most moved back into the safe house, Woods remained by the door, head ducked down as he thought, his thumb running circles over his forefinger. If she hadn’t done it, he would have probably hit Adler himself, as similar rage was settling in the pit of his stomach. Part of him wondered if he should be angry, whether he had a right, and the questions left a bitter taste in his mouth. He took a deep breath, followed by biting his lower lip to fight against the grimace of bitterness on his face.

He didn’t want to admit that he had gotten too attached, too close, and now he was left adrift in a million questions with no sail to guide him through. Bell was on their side, she had fought alongside them, saved Park’s life and now he was supposed to believe that she had been one of Perseus’ most trusted? It didn’t fit.

“If she runs,” Adler had called out to him as Woods fought his internal monologue, “it’s on you.”

Woods settled his gaze on him, cold, icy, and he wondered if it was worth telling him to go fuck himself. He settled, for once, on ignoring that impulse and moved to go through the door, the same one that Bell had used to escape into the outside.

As he moved into the night evening air, he felt the slight chill in the wind cling to his body, begging to break past the leather of his body warmer. Initially, Woods couldn’t spot where the woman had disappeared to. He hated to admit it, but for a second he wondered if she had taken the opportunity to run. Who could blame her, though, in the face of what had just happened within the walls of the safehouse. Woods had never seen her so emotive, so unstable, and her professional facade had shattered right there in front of their eyes. But, if he knew her as well as he thought he did she wouldn’t have gone far. Bell wouldn’t run, not from this, not from anything.

Taking a few steps forward, Woods squinted against the harsh sickly lights that shone from the sides of the safehouse wall. They illuminated the surrounding area, until the light slowly faded to the depths of shadows a couple metres out. His gaze focused there, in that dark evening ambiance and hope that she hadn’t wandered that way out.

“I see Adler sent a guard dog after me.” There was bitterness to the stressed tones, a slight waver, that usually was absent, wracking the vocals. He swung his head to the left, following those indignant tones until he was met with the image of Bell leaning against the wall. There were a few discarded pallets, stacked high next to her and they created a small shaded spot for her to hide in. The only show that anyone was there was the gentle silhouette and the occasional glow of red as a cigarette burned. As he stepped, cautiously, closer, Bell's sight remained steadfast in its forward gaze, darkened eyes refusing to acknowledge the company she now had.

She brought the cigarette to her lips, drawing in a long, deep inhale of smoke. It remained, pooling in her lungs until a rush of short lived relaxation washed over her and then she exhaled.

“He hasn’t sent anyone,” Woods retorted, gruffly, frowning as he came to a stop next to the pallets, “I came out here ‘cause I wanted to.”

Her eyes moved, downcast, as she flicked away ashes that clung to the end of her cigarette.

“Listen, Jodie-” His tones were considerably soft, something not many had the privilege of being the subject of.

“Don’t call me that.” She snapped, instantly, growing rigid at the name.

“But that’s who you are-” He urged, annoyance clinging to his throat.

“You haven’t got the slightest clue who I am,” she seethed, voice wavering once again.

He crossed his arms over his chest, gloved hands tensing as he stared at her incredulously, “are you kiddin’ me?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

A beat.

“What are you even doing out here, Woods? I don’t remember asking you to follow me. I don’t want you here.” She moved to spare a fleeting glance his way, as she shifted uncomfortably against the wall.

“Well tough shit, cause I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Was all he said in response, trying his best to stunt the feeling of growing annoyance at the way she spoke to him; he had to understand that she had every right to be angry, to be belligerent and aggressive and seething. Damn, he’d be worse if the roles were reversed.

Silence fell over the two, as Woods pulled out his own packet of cigarettes. He pulled one for himself, then offered her one.

She did not take it.

As he lit his, the glow of red fading over his face with each attempt to get the lighter to work, he was posed a question. If he didn’t know any better, he might have flown off the handle, but right now he supposed Bell was reevaluating those around her.

“Did you know?”

“What-”

“Did you know?” She cut him off, lips thin and tight over the snarl that erupted along with those repeated words. She didn’t have time to play games and she was tired of the constant mental chess she had been forced to play with the others.

“No.”

The unconvinced scoff that formed in her chest was heavy and she shook her head as she muttered, “really? You expect me to believe that.”

“Yeah, actually, I do,” he griped, “you really think I’d have let them brainwash you?”

Pushing herself from the wall, she yelled, “I don’t know what to think, Frank, because ten minutes ago I was Jodie Hall, MI6, and now I’m some brainwashed terrorist.”

Wiping a hand over her mouth, there were waves upon waves of distress and anxiety that were almost tangibly rolling over her body. If she hadn’t covered her mouth, she feared that she would have said much more than she was willing to admit. There was part of her that was relishing in being free, letting her emotions escape and ransack the outside world; then the other part hated being so vulnerable.

Silence fell over the two and though it was tense, rigid, Woods didn’t want to leave her. There was nothing he could say, or do, that could make this revelation any easier on her and he wasn’t entirely sure why he decided to stick around. But he did and he didn’t plan on leaving any time soon.

He eventually found himself looking at his feet, then at anywhere but her, only for his attention to be pulled back to her when she let out a scoff, something akin to a vindictive chuckle. He silently waited for her to speak, as it seemed that there was something on her mind and Woods worried that if he interjected, she might close up.

“You know what’s funny?”

A beat.

“I thought about lying.” She said, her features haunted by a vacant, ghostly reverie, “I thought about sending the lot of you to Duga, to chase after nothing.”

She stubbed out the cigarette on the wall before discarding the butt to the floor, a hollow laugh rattling through her aching chest, “I imagined what your faces would look like, being betrayed. Maybe you’d all feel a fraction of what it’s like. To be fucked over.”

There was a heavy feeling in his chest, brows furrowing further as he watched a dark look come about the woman before him. Before he had a chance to catch the words, they were out in the open, snapping, “then why didn’t you?”

Bell looked up and quietly regarded him. She was doing what she usually did, reading his features, gauging his reactions. Her eyes locked with his and there was the hint of tears forming in her eyes again. But, she didn’t cry, unable to allow herself to reveal any vulnerability.

“Why didn’t you lie, Jodie?”

“I…” She faltered.

She ducked her head down, then to the side as she fought the tears, the burning tightness in her throat. If she spoke now, the tears would fall, her voice would crack and she couldn’t risk him seeing her so weak. Bell motioned to move away from him, to run from this situation and fade back into the shadows where she could silently cry but Woods’ hand gently took hold on her forearm. He softly guided her to stand before him, the lights now allowing him to see her features clearly. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes red-rimmed, and her lips quivered. His hand gave her arm a slight squeeze; it wasn’t much in the form of comfort, but she knew what he was trying to do.

Then, she cleared her throat, fought to push out the words, “because I don’t matter.”

She inhaled sharply and she uttered the next words almost to convince herself that she had done the right thing, that she had made the right choice; after all, everything she had done over the last few years, the pain she had endured, it was all coming to a head.

Stopping Perseus is what she had been aiming for, right?

Saving millions of lives is why she had betrayed the faction in the first place, right?

After everything awful she had done for that man, after the lives she had taken, ruined, destroyed she supposed it made sense that this was the way her story came to an end.

Her voice was barely above a whisper, “what’s one more sacrifice…”

Pulling away from him, she began to walk back into the safe house, leaving Woods to watch after her retreating form. She had no intention of speaking with anyone else; there was nothing left to talk about other than do one singular thing.

Stop Perseus.

#decided that I'm gonna start posting the AO3 link and also posting the things I write separately to Tumblr #I realised that some people might not have ao3 and I felt mean not giving other ways of reading my stuff so #yeah we'll see how this does #if it works ill continue to do this kind of thing #call of duty #black ops cold war #frank woods #russell adler #cod bell oc #jason hudson #alex mason #helen park #lawrence sims #fanfic #cod fanfic #bocw

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