Fill the Void of Silence

"Oh, and how I do enjoy seeing you too," Robert said, sarcasm dripping like syrup. He especially was relishing seeing Rob in prison garb and shackles, powerless and having nothing to use now but a smartass attitude. And that didn't bother Robert in the least. "And as for your wife and daughter's money, I'm not giving one pence of it. Not to you. You don't need it where you'll shrivel up and rot. You won't be spending a bit of it in here, even if it did belong to you still--which it doesn't. It belongs to your wife for her and her daughter. And besides, they deserve that much from you, you heartless bastard."

Khaat turned and looked at the man Robert had addressed. She thought she'd seen him someplace before, but if that was Rob, she didn't recognize him in the least. The more she looked at him, the more her brain fogged. Her anger turned to rage at her father. She looked at the other hooded man with her. "If he won't fix this, you can! Fix it! Now!" The man reached out his hand to Robert, wanting the antidote to the potion. She had come here to see him, and Brian believed it best if Khaat was not shielded from the B**** he truly was. Best she be able to finish her grieving and move on with it.

"Not a chance," Robert stood firmly and spoke to her completely hooded bodyguard. Clearly he had the antidote in his pocket and was choosing not to give it up to her. "She deserves better than this loser," Robert said. "He cant' even muster up being a man about having a child. Too bad your sister didn't finish you off, you worthless specimen," he spat back at Rob. "The wizarding world would be far better without all you Dents. Worthless. Every one of you. I believed Jen had potential but she much prefers wallowing in her own emotional slime. So she's just as useless as you are."

Meanwhile, Khaat was feeling caught. Feeling full of rage at her father, and feeling desperate to find a shred of something in the shackled man before her that she recognized. Her father knew very well she'd come here to see him, and he'd ruined every bit of it. As if she couldn't stand up to whatever heartbreak that Rob felt like dishing out at her next. And she had already known he was incapable of kindness anymore. She knew that and had prepared herself for it. She had prepared he would use whatever would cut her the most. She felt like slapping her father so hard it would knock his teeth out, and even as thin and weak as she was, she felt sure she could manage that much. It took every bit of restraint she had not to beat his teeth straight out. She could not remember of being so angry ever in her life. Not ever. Any other time, her wonky accidental magic would have been tearing even Azkaban apart. But today, there was no accidental magic. No nothing.

The elated mood that Rob had been in quickly hit a brick wall and he was thrust into a black mood which seemed befitting of Azkaban. He noted Jen was sitting in her cell speaking in low tones with a ghost wearing a ruff. Rob twisted his wrists, the shackles were beginning to rub uncomfortably against the skin there but it didn’t hurt too much. Rob scowled at Robert and glanced at Khaat who seemed bewildered by the whole thing. He ignored her for a moment though and turned his gaze back on Robert. “May I remind you that it is my money and not theirs?” he said gently; his voice devoid of all malice it held a few moments prior. “Khaat may have what I owe her and ten thousand as interest but no more.” He said with an air of finality. He had planned on doing just that but Robert, the asshole, had all of his money. He wanted it even if he couldn’t use it. He’d write a will eventually though...just not right now.

He sighed and turned around. He pulled at the chains, the skin on his wrists burning from the metal and he managed to ignore it for the most part. He had every intention of going back to see the medical examiner. At least she’d keep him more or less sane even if she’d given him a magic suppressant. The guard pulled him by the scruff of the neck and Rob fell awkwardly against the huge burly man. He was really starting to miss real company and he hadn’t even been in the cell yet. He missed Pierre over everyone else. Pete would know exactly what to say and know how to make things seem at least a little bit better. Rob knew that he’d probably have been dragged home by his psycho wife though and Rob would never see his best friend again.

The guard pushed him away and Rob fell against the other one. He couldn’t quite keep his footing on the cold, wet slabs and the other one pushed him away just as roughly. Rob hit the floor but managed to stop his face from colliding with the stone. He exhaled and sat back on his haunches. The thin fabrics that made up his trousers were beginning to get wet but Rob didn’t really care too much. He could hear Robert badmouthing him to the hooded person but he could also feel Khaat’s quizzical eyes on him. He glanced up and frowned a little. He’d drugged her.

“You bastard!” he yelled at Robert. “You can’t even let her think for herself can you! You have to control every little f*cking detail of her life don’t you?!”He couldn’t believe it. That guy was no worse than Voldemort – he had to be in control of every situation. Rob was glad he had more or less washed his hands with the Lupins but the remark about his sister hurt. He began to walk forward but the guards grabbed him by the arms and yanked him back but that didn’t stop Rob from trying to wriggle out of their grasp. “Don’t you dare talk about my sister like that; you have no right! If you hate us all so much then why don’t you just f*ck off?”

Rob pulled against the guards again but they marched him to the cell opposite Jen's and unshackled his wrists. They threw him inside and Rob hit the stone floor with a sickening crack. He swore under his breath and pushed himself up onto his haunches. Rob licked his fingers and lightly began to run them around his left wrist, relieving some of the pain. Rob sighed and ripped some of the material of the shirt. The healer had warned him he was going to be more susceptible to illness due to the poisoning from the potions but at that moment in time he didn’t care. Rob ripped the piece of material in half and wrapped one bit around each wrist. He flexed his fingers and stood up.

He momentarily ignored the people outside his cell and reached up to look out of the window. There wasn’t anything to see. Rob sighed and dropped back down to his normal height. He sat down on the mattress and unfolded the threadbare blanket that he’d been allocated. Rob sighed and picked up a piece of chalk which had been left by the wall his predecessor must have been writing on. Rob could see the remains of day trackers and Rob drew a small white line with the piece of chalk. He tucked it behind the mattress and leaned against the wall. How long was life imprisonment, he wondered.

The male prisoner that had had such a strong reaction to the realization that her own father had indeed drugged her convinced her that it had to be Rob. It did sound like his voice pattern, even if the face seemed strange. She looked at Brian's face for confirmation, and he nodded, handing her her bag which she automatically slung up on her right shoulder with the one hand that didn't react now with sharp pain.

She summoned up her authority and demanded of the buffoons who had dragged her husband down the hallways to open the cell and announced with enough fierceness in her voice who she was and her right to go into any freaking cell she chose, seemed to actually scare the crap out of the normally unscarable prison guards. They did not know she couldn't cast the first spell, but she wasn't telling them. They ran to unlock Rob's cell door, more than sufficiently intimidated. She hissed into Brian's face, rage filled, "You get him down the hall and give me at least five stinking minutes alone. If he truly is Rob, I deserve that much whether I actually recognize his face or not."

She turned on her father. "YOU! Get your blooming arse down the hallway out of earshot of my conversation with my husband or I swear, you will wake up one morning in one of your own bloody bug jars in your potions lab. Mark my words. "

"I am not giving you the antidote," he said calmly.

"I don't care!" she shouted. "Get out! I will deal with you later! Get out!" Robert looked at the hooded man. "She does not leave your sight." He turned and walked down the hallway out of earshot. She went into the cell, taking her bag, listening to the door clang shut behind her.

"I brought you a couple things," she said softly to the man on the bunk, the one Brian had confirmed was indeed Rob. "Thought you might want them. If you don't, throw them out. It's pretty simple." She drew out two wizard photos of Abbey--the picture the hospital took at her birth, and a more recent one, a couple days old now. She handed them to him. Then she handed him the takeout box and plastic silverware and bottle of soft drink she'd brought for him.

As she handed him the box with her right hand, she caught a glimpse of her left--the one her father had simply crushed in one of his. She had simply stood and watched as he crumpled it like paper. The hand that still was causing her pain. She paused for a second, frowning slightly. She didn't remember her hand having that shape before. Not the bones in her hand, and her fingers didn't seem to go that direction before either. She redirected her attention to handing Rob the silverware and the soft drink. It was beginning to add up to her that perhaps the potion was interfering with a true perception of the damage there in her hand. She was sure if it really was that misshapen that it should surely hurt more than what it did. Well, even if she had, she couldnt do one little thing about it, now could she? So being a bit numb to it wasn't all bad perhaps.

She made up her mind. Her father could not stay awake forever. And when her magic returned, he would wake up in one of his own bug jars. That was just a given now. Once she decided what sort of bug to transfigure him into. If she was lucky, her mother would even think he was working at St. Mungos overnight and wouldn't demand to have him back for a day or two. She caught herself cracking a sadistic smile at the thought of seeing him in one of his own jars, and quickly made herself take the mischievious smirk off her face.

"Sorry it isn't at least a beer, but even I can't get away with that," she apologized, redirecting herself back to Rob--well, Rob, as best she could tell. "I will try to get you at least one good meal a day, if I can twist the warden's arm. I will do my best." She was deliberately not bringing up the least little bit of emotion to him. But his voice was sounding somewhat familiar, even if his face wasn't. "It at least is vegetarian, and I know you won't get much of that in here. You should enjoy it while you can," she said, handing him the box. "If you get hungry for something in particular, let me know. I'll get it to you."

"I apologize for my father. I have no idea what he gave me, but this is not how this was supposed to be. He will regret it someday, though. That much I do promise him. He knew why I wanted to come, and he's not hurt anyone but me. And, yes, I can still very much think for myself, contrary to what he thinks. He'll find that out for himself soon enough. But, much as I would return your money to you, I don't have access to it--not on my own anyway. He's the only one who has any sole access, I'm sorry to say. I haven't spent a cent of it. If I had my way, I'd give it back. If you don't love us enough to want to do the right thing, then I don't want it.

"I am sorry about all of this, but I had no idea...who...you really were. I thought you did honestly care at some point--about both Abbey and me. I don't know what I did wrong to turn it all on its ass, but I am sorry for that, for whatever I did. I probably would have handled the truth if you'd have just felt you could trust me with it. But somehow, I wasn't who you needed, or you might have trusted me. I am sorry. And you should know--Abbey is definately yours. There never was anybody else. Not ever. I don't know if that even makes any sort of difference to you, but she is absolutely your little girl. Whether you like me or not, that does bond us together in some sort of way for the rest of our lives. I can't change that. We do need to figure out a way to get along, I suppose, at some point."