antebellum [t. riddle]

lxxvi

april 1945
brief suicidal ideation

sicaria's sense of magic came to long before her body did, and once she finally did regain her senses, touch was the first one she could recognize.

from the moment she awakened, she could feel tom's all-encompassing presence near her, though she could not pinpoint it. sicaria was uncertain whether she just recognized his scent, heard his breathing patterns, or just knew he was there waiting for her like he always was.

once he noticed her moving, sicaria heard the sound of pages ruffling, as if he had moved everything he was previously working on only to watch her wake up.

"where's dumbledore?" she asked, before she had even fully opened her eyes. to her own ears, her voice sounded surprisingly alert, as though she had not rested at all.

he was whispering at her, hissing in a way that made the words feel sharper. "i swear to every star in the sky, sicaria, if you ever do such a thing again—"

"i'm not going to let you get hurt or die for me." she provided no further defense for her actions because they both knew that if it had been tom in that situation, he would have done the very same thing.

he stared at her, face unmoving and unblinking as they stood off against each other, mentally, of course, considering sicaria could be mistaken for being asleep by anyone who happened to enter.

"i mean it, sicaria. i'll make you pray you never met me."

"as do i. there is not a thing you can say that will change my mind," she said, not backing down. "now if you are going to storm off, please do it soon—"

"enough," he whisper-shouted at her. tom was already messing up his plan; there was just some quality about her and only her that was able to make him act out of rage. he remembered himself quickly though, putting his emotions aside to continue his plan. "stop acting petulant, i know your tricks and you are not fooling me, no matter how good you think you are at it."

in her hand, she could feel his heart beating rapidly with the force it took for him to restrain himself. when she did not respond, he spoke again.

"do you get some kind of enjoyment from having me care about your life since nobody else you've ever known has?"

she gasped and her eyes flung open at the statement because she could not believe it had been tom who said it if not seeing him. and there he was, when she opened her eyes, unflinching and uncaring of neither her hurt nor her wrath.

he stood and she only watched, unable to think of a response considering he had never been so outright malicious to her— not with words, anyway. her mind immediately started to race with things to say— instinctually jumping to thinking of some way to get him to feel remorseful for what he had said. she opened her mouth to say something about how much pain he had caused her but froze because none of it was genuine, and he would surely know it.

two sides of her were warring with each other— one calling tom an enemy that she needed to have the upper hand over or else he would kill her, the other wondering why she was trying so hard with tom when he was entirely right (though she scarcely wanted to admit it) and love her either way.

when her lips closed around her response, he stood, face betraying no thought or emotion to sicaria, and walked toward healer miranda's office, letting sicaria linger in her internal confusion.

she heard him mumble something that essentially amounted to, "she's awake," before crossing the room once again, apparently to leave.

sicaria did not know why, but this set off alarm bells in her mind. no matter how angry he had been at her in the past, he had always stayed by her side, or was always sure he was able to have an eye on her at all times. he was smothering her before, but now he was detached and borderline uncaring, or rather, faking it convincingly.