Are You Really Feeling Apathy?

Was she shivering? Because it really, truly felt like she was. Everything was tense, and Ana was fairly certain that her hand was shaking as she held the necklace out to him. He didn't take it, though, so she cradled it between her fingers, tearing her gaze away from the chain to look up at Marcus as he spoke. "I know, I know. It's just, um... well, it's worrisome."

Belatedly registering his question, Ana paused, taking in the options he listed. "I seriously doubt it," she concluded finally, shaking her head. "Poppy's more of a light brown. I mean, you saw. But if she's not one of those three, that's a good thing, isn't it? More likely she's still out there somewhere."

The potential of that very thing had her once again hating herself for being so distant. For making her daughter dislike or even distrust her. The longer they stood there, the more time she was given to consider what had gone wrong. To consider what she should have done or what Pavel might have done that Ana wasn't made aware of. A frustrated huff left her, closing one hand around the necklace before letting both arms fall to her sides.

"So what do we do, then?" She asked, voice too loud out of her nervousness. "We can't well track.... whoever did this, as far as I know. So unless we can track her using this," she shook the fist that enclosed her - well, Poppy's - necklace, "I hope you have some ideas."

It was unfair, dumping her aggression on Marcus like she was. But she was lost as to a better way to handle herself. The situation called for forthrightness and sensible thinking, but she had been off of the Auror path for no less than a decade, and she had never been required to take part in a case that pertained to anyone she knew or cared about. This was different and scary, and directly involved a man that she could have loved. Frankly, Ana had considered it at one point, but even then she couldn't allow herself to genuinely look into it. Even twelve years ago she had been more cowardly than she cared to admit.

As an auror, her job hadn't been to worry about herself or her family, but about those who couldn't help themselves. And while the latter was true of Poppy, the former obviously was as well, and that was the part that made her trip over her words and question herself. Years ago she would have known precisely what was needed. Now, she couldn't settle on anything, it seemed. Marcus would have to take the lead on this one if he expected them to get anything done. She hated it, but it was true. Were it Marcus's daughter and not her own, things would have run far more smoothly.

"It is worrisome," he agreed. It was worth Ana's effort to worry this time. He couldn't deny it when he was worried. He would have been worried no matter whose child it was, but the fact that he now knew she was his? Well, that just upped the ante. And it put Marcus into the game with James even deeper than he already was.

"Hold onto the necklace," he told her gently. "You'll need it. She'll want the thing back, no doubt, when we find her. And, no. I don't believe she was one of the ones killed her. I think she was already a hostage by that time. I think she's still a hostage."

He frowned, wondering how this had all played out. He wasn't satisfied he understood how Poppy had survived such brutality, if the necklace meant she had been James's hostage already when the murders occurred.

"One moment," he said to Ana. He turned and began again searching the room, looking for even the slightest clue, perhaps something that had been missed in all the mayhem. He worked quickly but meticulously. He was growing frustrated, needing some assurance for himself that she was still alive.

"How'd you do it, you bastard?" he muttered to himself. "What did you do?" Then, he found a few blonde hairs caught in an edge of a potions shelf. It was perhaps four feet high. He looked closer and saw a small blood smear on the wall near the door. Not deep dark red blood from severe bleeding. More of a lighter red, like a small scuffle.

He went back to the door, and tried to reconstruct it. If that hair and blood had been Poppy's, how did she get hurt? He tried to imagine himself being James. A brutal werewolf already mentally shifted to needing to hunt, to kill, but now with a child. Probably a frightened, resistive child. Certainly not something any premeditated killer wanted to be burdened with.

So, if he had been James, what would he do, he asked himself. He imagined Poppy struggling, perhaps frightened by James' size or aggression, and James feeling perhaps impatient by her struggling.

Marcus made a slow, slight backhanding motion, wondering if James had perhaps hit her. He followed the trajectory line from his hand and saw that it lined up almost exactly where he believed it should.

"He hit her," Marcus said. "With any luck, he just stunned her and she didn't see a damned thing. Here. Look here." He pointed out the three blonde hairs that were still caught in the snag in the wood shelf.

"And here. This small smudge is nowhere near the crime scene. Its not related. I think he might have hit her and maybe she banged either her head. The height looks about right for her age. He was probably just trying to silence her. If that's the case, that is definitely another good sign. He could have easily not spared her either, but all the evidence points to the fact that she is alive.

"Ana, I'm gonna get her back. I know who has her. I don't have much of a doubt about that." He wanted to be sure he looked straight into her eyes. He wasn't going to blast her with all the horrors at once. He still had a need to buffer her a bit from the fear that he knew would rise when he told her that he knew, with an unshakeable certainty that their daughter was in the hands of James Blood. Marcus wasn't sure Ana, as tough as she could be, was ready to hear that. He knew what nightmares would explode in her head. He was already seeing them in his head for himself. He heard himself, now an angered father, making a promise in a situation where his professional skills told him to make no promises.

"I will do whatever it takes. And, I do mean whatever it takes. No rules, no boundaries. Whatever. It. Takes. We will get her back."

Ana knew she should have been able to figure out everything Marcus told her, but it had simply been too long. She felt like nothing more than the person coming to claim a body - or, in this case, a bit of evidence. Perhaps it would be best to leave it to Marcus, to let him sort it out without her and her emotions getting in the way. A sensible, rational person would have done as much. But clearly Ana was not acting rationally, because it was Marcus and because it was Poppy. So instead of leaving, she just watched him, trying to add up the situation as compared to her daughter's temperament.

It had just been too long, she mused, following his actions with her gaze. Poppy, though Ana couldn't be sure, was probably nervous if not terrified. And who wouldn't be, really, with everything that had happened. But as Marcus spoke, it registered that he seemed to have a suspect in mind but she wasn't privy to it. He seemed content to let her go along without knowing, and worse still, he appeared to be comfortable going after whomever by himself. None of his words led Ana to believe she would be allowed to go with him.

A frown crossed her face as she shook her head. Her hair freed itself in little flyaways from her hood as she did so, but Ana ignored the bits. "Marcus," she started, hardly caring if she interrupted him. Extending a hand, Ana let her fingers curl around his arm. "The name," she requested firmly, eyes searching his.

She had a right to know - Poppy had been 'hers' far longer than Marcus's, though Ana knew that was all semantics and her being pedantic. Still, she had to know. "If you intend to go off without me, at least tell me who it is," she added, seemingly resigned to her fate. "I'd rather go with you, though."

He stopped when she took his arm. What was it about her that he still found so infectious, even after all this time?  She wanted the name. She had a right to it.  But how did he tell her this? How did he tell her that the one of the most wanted mass murderers in England had her daughter? Their daughter.

"Sorry," he said gently, feeling for her. He sighed and then kissed her forehead gently. "You're right. We're in this together. I don't know why I think I can protect you from being any more worried by holding out the facts from you."

How could he explain it? It wasn't as if they'd had any reasonable connection over the last 12 years. Had barely seen each other outside of casual passing for business reasons, and then they had barely spoken.  For him to say now how much he cared had to sound cliché, and certainly a day late and a dollar short. He wasn't the sort to carry a torch for unrequited love, not according to his reputation.

He was known as a womanizer nowadays. Well, the gossip, the reputation had it a bit wrong.  It was more about not taking any relationship seriously. Not since Ana. Not since The Harpy. Casual sex was always on Marcus's menu.  Attachments? No. Attachments, he had reasoned, were simply bad for business. Or at least that was the cocktail party excuse.

"But, I've wanted to hold back on the name just because most people get pretty rattled just hearing the name these days.  I didn't want to add to your fear, but I don't have much doubt in my mind.  I am almost completely certain that Poppy was taken by James Blood.

"That's the reason I didn't tell you.  Trying to find him is going to be hard and he will certainly try to kill anyone who interferes with him.  He knows who I am. He and I have tangled before. We tangled today, as a matter of fact. He left wounded, so that might give us an advantage. He is beatable. Its not impossible.

"Promise me, though, that no matter what, you won't begin to try to do this without me. If he can, he will kill you. He doesn't need a reason.  Just an impulse to do it."

Ana blinked up at him as he leaned away, her forehead tingling where he had pressed a comforting kiss. It was a comfort, similarly, for him to agree that they would be in the effort to rescue Poppy together. She had always assumed that the pair of them would fight or ignore each other, but this newfound ability to get along warmed her to some extent. Yes, it was a ridiculous situation for such a relationship to found itself, but it had happened nonetheless. And the fact that she now had someone on her side for what was probably the first time in... well, ages? It just made her all the more determined to solve the puzzle that was her daughter's disappearance, and prove to Marcus that what happened between them didn't have to define the rest of their lives. Especially now that he knew the truth.

A subtle question of what he must think of her in her inability to solve the clues left for them rang clear in the back of her mind, but Ana ignored it to the best of her ability, instead focusing with all her might on what he was explaining to her. Her heart fell into her stomach, figuratively of course, and she swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the floor across the room. Running her tongue across the backs of her lower teeth, she tried to hold back the anger that was rampaging through her. Even beyond the fear she inevitably felt, she couldn't help but be furious.

"That utter sod..." She started, fists clenching at her sides. "That absolute bastard touched our daughter."

It didn't even register that she openly called Poppy theirs instead of hers, considering she was so very frustrated with everything that was going on. "Whether or not he is beatable hardly matters to me," Ana admitted finally, having allowed him to finish while she started pacing across the floor. "I want Poppy out, and then I want a plan." Her gaze met his, expression cold and harsh. "I want him and his pack taken down, and that will take more than luck and his being injured."

She sounded far braver, and probably younger, than she truly was. A woman in her forties likely didn't go around spouting plans of tearing apart entire werewolf packs. It was crazy, but she was beyond caring, honestly. Far longer than Ana was comfortable with, those werewolves had been running about and terrorizing the community. If she could ensure the fates of those problems, perhaps she would no longer be the woman hiding out and being disliked by the majority of the Wizarding World.

More than that, of course, was the frustration that came from a mother enraged by the unknown fate of her daughter.

"I've got a plan alright," Marcus mumbled angrily, more to himself than any actual reply to her. His job was the same as it had always been. Keeping others safe. There were no more clues here. He turned and walked out of the potions lab, back into the catacombs. "I'm gonna kill that sonofa...wait a minute. What's this?"

He saw a speck of white on the stone floor. He didn't know how he'd missed it before. He walked over to the speck and saw a doll. A broken porcelain doll with blond hair. He inspected it. A doll well loved at one time. He could see some of the gentle wear of years of being hugged and cuddled. Now the porcelain head and limbs were broken on the stone floor. He didn't know how he knew. He just knew. Poppy. It felt, suddenly, like he had a tangible piece of her heart, a piece of the child he'd not yet met.

It felt like his only real connection to her. He wasn't going to leave it laying there. He couldn't. He reached out his hand, using wandless magic in a simple reparo spell to repair the porcelain doll. The pieces snapped back into place. He picked up the doll and looked at it. It bore no clues, but, for some reason, he really wasn't looking for one with the doll. Didn't expect to find much more.

"Its hers, isn't it?" he turned, looking at Ana. "I have a feeling she'll want it back when we find her." He was tempted to shrink it to pocket sized and put it in his pocket. Instead, he held it out to Ana.

Plan. They did need a plan. They needed to find a way to get to Fenrir Grayback. Marcus knew that James was, supposedly, living with Fenrir. The location of that den, though, was a mystery. No one knew where it was that wasn't a werewolf.

He knew where he could get help, though, but that meant he had to defy his orders. He had to risk taking Ana into forbidden territory. He had a choice. He had to risk perhaps national or international security or risk his daughter's life. Perhaps it would all work out well. Perhaps he wouldn't have to sacrifice either.

For Poppy, he knew, Ana would do anything. For her, she would do whatever needed to be done.

"I think I know where we can get the help we need," he said slowly, hating that he was about to break almost every order he'd been given, risking almost everything, including his country. But it was, he thought, a bet he could risk trusting to Ana.

"But honest to God, Ana, if you have even a single warm spot for Gideon Pierce, I swear...." his voice trailed off, trying not to say the words. "you tell me right now and I'll find another way."

Watching him pick up the doll, Ana's hands reached for it without thinking, embarrassed slightly when he passed it to her and she took it incredibly eagerly. Marcus could clearly tell how badly she needed something concrete, even if it was just a symbol or representation of their daughter held there in her hands. "Yes," she murmured gently. "It's Poppy's."

The doll was cradled and tucked into her side, but she pushed aside the nerves, the worry, and allowed her anger to take over once more. It was amazing that their fury was founded in the same person, rather than each other. And it wasn't even Pavel, this time. That was impressive on its own. Somehow, their teaming up made her feel stronger, just as their affair had made her realize how little she felt for Pavel after what she had expected upon marrying him. But that was definitely not relevant. Nope.

He seemed hesitant, yet somehow resolved. It made her all the more determined, and a cold gleam came to her eyes. "That man has been blaming me for far too many things. Absurd things. The sooner we can take him out, the better my life will be. The better the lives of my children will be. If that means we can take out the werewolves in the process.... well. All the better."

A pleased smirk grew on her face, and the idea of rescuing her daughter, attempting to mend her relationship with her children, and even getting a stab in when it came to Gideon - it all added up to a raised eyebrow and a determined stance. "By all means, Marcus. Lead the way."

"Well," he sighed, dreading the verbal blast he knew he was about to receive momentarily. "With me, then. As I see it, the best that can happen is that we get help. The worst that can happen is that you'll be obliviated, and I'll get my ass handed to me on a platter."

He reached for her arm and ported the two of them. In a moment, he was "home."  Well, as close to a home as he had for the moment. They were standing on the grounds of Khaat's massive unplottable estate. The grounds, from here, looked endless.  They were in the back yard, staring out at the acres and acres of woods and farmland, with the barns and outbuildings and guest cabins.

"The house is behind us," he said quietly. "But, Ana, so you know, you can't tell anyone I've ever brought you here. Ever. If you do, you might as well promote Gideon Pierce to Minister of Magic--forever."  

He motioned behind him, and turned around. As many times as he'd seen it, as much as he understood impressive things, the view of the sprawling luxury log mansion was still impressive. The mansion rose out of the lush green grass like a great American southwest castle.

"Brian's tastes," he said, leading her up the flagstone path to the stone terrace outside the glass doors to the house's great room.  "I rather like it, though. A bit out of place in England perhaps, but I do like that its not as pretentious as some our big old cold stone things."  He sighed. "Let us hope he's in a good mood until we get our story out."

He opened the door to the great room and led her inside.  Sitting in one of the large leather wing chairs in front of the fireplace, was Robert Lupin, with Ministry paperwork on his lap, and a cup of tea sitting on the end table beside him.  Since his last appearance in public, he was definitely thinner, the long months of injury and illness had taken their toll. Recovering now, though, he was working. Always working, and the Ministry was one of the most important things on his mind.  

Robert looked up at Marcus, rather stonefaced.  He said nothing for a moment, sliding his reading glasses down on his nose to look above the lenses. He closed the file of paperwork to devote his full attention to them.

"This had better be important, Belby," Robert said quietly, his hint of concern for Marcus's deliberate blatant security breech.

"Yes, Sir," Marcus said. It is.  This is...."

"Hello, Mrs Levski," Robert said, already recognizing Ana's face.  He studied them both for a moment. Something was wrong. He didn't know Levski personally, but he knew the normally unflappable bodyguard that he had entrusted Khaat's life to. Marcus's judgment about when something was terribly wrong had proven to be right most of the time, and Marcus was rigidly adherent to security and about the estate. No one outside of the immediate inner circle got in here. Not ever. For Marcus to breech it and to compromise literally everything, it spoke volumes to Robert in a single gesture.

Robert motioned for them both to sit. "If he's brought you here, Mrs. Levski, I trust you're both knee deep into something.  So, someone tell me what's gone wrong, and what I can do to help."

"Believe you me, Marcus, I have no intention of allowing Gideon to do such a thing. No thank you. So you can count on this being kept a secret."

It wasn't the most elegant of promises, but Gideon had received some form of one, so Ana believed he should feel fairly pleased with what he was given. Especially given their history. At least she had been honest with him before, so he had less reason to refuse to trust her. On that same token, though, she had kept the secret from him for upwards of ten years. So she didn't exactly deserve anything from him. Ana accepted that to some extent, and knew full well that her fear at the time didn't excuse her. But she was determined to finally keep her word when it came to him.

Ana followed Marcus closely, half hoping she looked decently pitiful when they entered so they wouldn't suspect any ill will. Not that she harbored any, mind. But caution was definitely a good idea in her opinion. The man who should have been the Minister addressed her directly, so she lifted her chin and stepped around Marcus to sit where Robert directed them to.

"I'm speaking on the assumption that you know about what happened today with the werewolves and the murders," Ana began slowly, voice surprisingly level compared to her impatience. "As it turns out, a ten-year-old girl was in the area, and we're quite sure that James and his pack took them."

She probably should have clarified that Poppy was their daughter, but it didn't seem entirely relevant, and she hadn't exactly asked Marcus how he wanted to handle it. She still glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, though, trying to get an idea of what he wanted her to say or do.

"We've got to find her. Marcus has reason to believe that she's still alive, though he could better explain what he saw to convince him of that."

Robert took the news in with a frown. James had taken adults and children alike, and he usually killed. Still, he usually preferred children just a bit older because he was anxious to build his pack. Robert had him pegged for someone not having patience for little ones.  

Anytime James took someone, particularly a child, it was of deep concern to Robert. However, this was definitely different. Levski was urgent. He could see it in her eyes.  So was Belby. Marcus was known for preferring to work any sort of espionage or recovery alone. He also was the first to protest anyone being brought into the sanctum that kept the Lupin family safe.  For Marcus to breech that, this wasn't James' ordinary abduction.  

"Any time James kidnaps anybody, it certainly is an emergency," Robert said. "You will, of course, have any help I can give.  But--what's the missing link here? There' another shoe to be dropped here, isn't there?"

"There is, Robert," Marcus said.  "The child is Ana's daughter.  Well, Ana's and mine.  I...didn't know until just a short while ago.  Ana called me for help."

A daughter. A second Belby daughter. Robert wasn't reeling from finding out that Belby had another child. It didn't, for some reason, surprise him since he knew Marcus and Ana had both served or some time in Bulgaria.  Actually, Robert rather suspected Belby probably had more unknown offspring somewhere if his reputation was accurate.  

"I do know about the murders this morning," Robert said to Levski.  "Marcus told me about them as soon as he came back from there.  Marcus, are you sure it was your child? And are you sure James took her?"

"As sure as I can be," Marcus said. "Her necklace and her doll were in the potions lab.  And a couple of her hairs.  There werent' any other blondes there that height."

"Right, then," he said seriously. "So we need to find a reason for James to give her back without hurting her."

"Unfortunately, there's only one thing that James ever wants," Marcus replied quietly. He hated to bring up the obvious, but it was true.  

"We can't keep doing that maneuver," Robert said. "We've used it twice successfully, but I'd rather not try that and chance that he'll call our bluff. Not unless we have to."

"You think you have a better plan?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," Robert said. "We know that when we destroyed James' den that he had no choice but to run back to Fenrir Grayback to have enough food and shelter to take care of a pack James's size. Think about it. By now, James' crappy decisions have given werewolves a bad name and has set back their acceptance into mainstream society about a couple of decades at least. James is becoming a massive liability to Fenrir and every werewolf alive because he's out of control.

"Fenrir is nothing if not primarily a well accomplished alpha male," he continued. "He's not going to risk himself and everyone in his pack for a rogue that is, by pack rules, off grid. Fenrir has never been full of warm fuzzies. If James goes too far, Fenrir will either give him up or kill him."

"You expect Fenrir to give my daughter back? Just like that?" Marcus frowned. "We don't even know where the den is."

"No, but Fenrir doesn't know that," Robert said.  "Let's make Fenrir want to give her back. Its the only bargaining chip he has that I'm interested in."

"And what is he going to think we want?"

"I think the Ministry, right about now, would be very interested in seeing every werewolf caught or killed on sight, especially James, Fenrir, and every other Grayback--especially Ari and Naomi, don't you think? I think if we issue a few posters in the right places, it won't take them long to be hunting us to try to negotiate safety for their pack."

"And if we don't get to my daughter before the mercenaries start taking out werewolves?" Marcus scowled.

"First, he'd be a complete idiot to let something happen to his pack's only hope of survival. But, whatever happens to his pack, that is not our problem. That's Fenrir's problem," Robert said coldly.  "But I don't think it will take him that long. Nobody lives to be an old werewolf. THink about it. Not unless they are very, very wise. I want him to think that giving back one human child is a very generous offer on our part. Not that we're desperate for her.  That will put additional pressure on Fenrir to either give James up or shut him down for good."  He looked at Marcus and Ana. "I can't send a platoon into a negotiation. It would have to be small. Mrs. Levski, let us hope that they don't figure out who your daughter is. If that is the case, you could certainly represent the Ministry in the negotiations--if you think you can maintain that sort of composure.  Marcus, you can certainly go supposedly just to provide her protection. Do you think you two can do it alone?"

Marcus looked at Ana. It seemed a powerful bluff to Marcus, but Marcus wasn't opposed to putting pressure on the werewolves. "What do you think?" Marcus asked Ana. The plan would mean that Robert would conjure some wanted posters with death warrants, they'd post them most likely in Knockturn and then wait. If Robert was right, they wouldn't have to wait long.