Hold Me Together [Oliver]

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Through the static of confusion, Serenity barely heard his voice, and by the time she focused, his first few words had gone by heard but not understood. But what she did hear only cause the hurt to worsen; a part of her wondered how much deeper the pain could go. Already it was worse than she ever thought possible.

I could never hate you, she tried to tell him, but the words got caught; if she tried to speak, she knew she would but sob. Hopelessly, she stared at him, wished he could read minds, wished she could show him what she was thinking, what she wanted to say.

I want you to stop me because you're the only one I couldn't hate for doing so. The ministry has me in the palm of their hands. They own me, Oliver, by chance, by circumstance, because they found me on their doorstep. But you? You have me. Freely, willingly, gladly, I am yours. Because a third year Hufflepuff stopped to check on a scared second year and didn't run when she asked him difficult questions. Because he showed her what love was, and how to do it. Because, Oliver, I trust you, and you trust me, and I love you, and you love me. Outwardly, she took a deep breath but still her voice was lost.

I want you to stop me because if I do this, we'll never be happy. And if you're not happy, I could never live with myself. You are my everything. She blinked away more tears. So you see, Oliver? You have to stop me.

But he couldn't hear any of this. It was her heart, bare, empty of any walls, and he couldn't hear any of it; how could he, when she didn't say any of it? The tears were coming faster, now, a constant stream of pain solidified. It felt as though her being was torn in two. One wanted to save the girl; the other wanted to save Oliver, save them. Whatever her choice, whatever decision she made, there would be consequences. All that was left to do was to pick the person she wanted more.

"Oliver," she whispered, each syllable costing her more effort than she had in that moment, as she made her choice. "Help me."

Her last reserve of energy spent, she dropped her wand, the wood slipping from between her fingers and falling -- almost in slow motion -- before crashing to the floor with a clang, where it continued to move, rolling in a wide curve, until the came to rest against the wall. Her eyes flickered towards it, as if wondering how she could reach for it, as though she had been disarmed and not willingly let go. Then, seeing it there, so near yet so far away, knowing that it was her only real chance of leaving, she broke entirely.

Her heart gave a lurch -- more painful than anything she ever felt -- and her legs gave way. With a strangled sob, she collapsed onto the floor. Putting her face in her hands, she began to weep. This was the right thing to do; she would not regret it, in the long run, when she was in her right mind. When she wasn't forced to make the decision. When she could actually think about it, without the pressure of a limited time to do so.

But for now, all she could think about was the Slytherin girl.

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Another silence entered the room after he'd spoken, but Oliver didn't open his eyes. If anything he forced the shut tighter, hoping Serenity would just listen to him. Do the right thing. As the silence stretched, though, Oliver got the horrible feeling that Serenity was not going to do it.

Why?

The sound of his name again made Oliver shake his head, he couldn't... but the plea for him to help was wearing him down. She'd only need to ask him but once more, and he'd go to her. Her wand pointing at him be damned. He would push past and envelope Serenity in his arms, telling her over and over that it was okay. She was safe, and that nothing would hurt her.

All of those thoughts were shattered, though when the sound of wood hitting wood met Oliver's ears. His eyes opened to see Serenity's wand rolling away. That had not been the outcome that Oliver was expecting from this... this was not the one he wanted. Serenity had made the wrong choice...

And yet, even as he believed that, he was glad. Glad she'd stayed, for he could help her in this situation, the other, the other would be taken from his grasp, leaving Serenity alone to combat the Ministry.

Watching her collapse was like slow motion, Oliver had stepped forward too late, not quite able to catch her fall, but he was on the floor by her side in an instant, shifting the witch in to his lap and bringing her close to his chest. Who was shaking more in that moment, Oliver wouldn't have been able to say, but he was slowly pushing away his own emotions. Emotions that did not, and never would, matter in place of Serenity's.

"It's okay, Serenity..." Oliver murmured in to her hair, rocking her gently to try and soothe her. "I'm here, it's all going to be okay" The Hufflepuff continued, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his girlfriend's head.

But with each sob Serenity let out, it felt like a small, sharp knife was being pressed in to his heart, reminding him that he had caused this. Her pain was his fault, and silently his own tears fell. For the good that they would do, they continued to fall, and bitterness was growing in his heart.

The Ministry, Oliver silently pledged, was going to pay. For everything they'd put Serenity through.

But his plans... Oliver kept to himself as he tried to calm Serenity back down.

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There were no more words to be said, nothing to be done, except to cry -- and cry she did.

She cried for Slytherin girl who might be paralysed for life; she cried for herself, knowing that her lack of action had been the cause of the accident; she cried for Oliver, because she knew this was hurting him almost -- almost, but not quite -- as much as it hurt her; she cried for the childhood she never had, for the maturity thrust upon her from such a young age; she cried for the decision she had just been forced to make; she cried for the option she had chosen; she cried because, no matter which she had picked, a part of her had been changed forever; she cried because none of this -- not a single aspect of her life, save per Oliver -- had been fair; she cried because none of this -- none of what she was or what that meant in the long run -- was fair for Oliver; she cried because she knew, deep down, 'fairness' was not a word she would come to understand in her own life; and, most of all, she cried because she didn't know what else to do in that moment to express how she felt.

His arms went around her a split second after she went down -- she felt the warmth enveloping her, a distant promise that, no matter what, she was going to be okay -- but it didn't fully register until some minutes later when the sobs came to a slow stop. The tears, however, kept coming through her soft hiccups, breath wavering and shallow. She had been in this position many times before, head buried in his chest, but this was the first time it meant so much.

Sure, Oliver had seen her broken before. He'd been there to put the pieces together after a hard vision or flashback or day. But this time she was beyond her usual breaking -- this time she had shattered entirely. Would there be enough pieces left to put her back together with? Or were they too small, too far scattered for him to find?

She didn't really want to know the answer, and so she didn't ask it.

Eventually, although she wasn't exactly sure how long it had been, the tears, too, stopped. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, and they ached from the amount of crying she'd done; her chest, too, ached from the sobbing, and each breath was laboured and difficult. But still she kept breathing, and still she would keep living -- if this was considered life.

Still more time passed as she allowed Oliver to hold her. There was nothing to say, nothing to do. She waited for her breaths to grow more consistent, to stop having that hitch that came after a long cry. Long, almost agonising minutes passed, but the silence this time didn't hold animosity or apprehension; it was welcoming and gentle and kind, and everything she needed in that moment was found in the warmth of his arms and the peace of the silence.

When Serenity found she could speak again, she dropped her hands, turning slightly to look at Oliver while making sure not to move his arms; they were the only thing keeping her from losing it again. "I'm sorry," she said -- it came out as a whisper, the only thing she seemed to be capable of. "It wasn't fair of me."

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Serenity's sobs were, Oliver had learned, the most difficult part of their relationship to deal with. It was not the Ministry's guidelines and expectations that put unnecessary restrictions on their relationship that he found difficult. It wasn't how Serenity would lose focus when he was telling her something really exciting, only for him to have to give up on that idea, and aid her through the Sight she was dealing with, either. No, it was none of the things that caused the tears that were difficult to deal with, it was the actual tears themselves.

Oliver had thought it would get easier, with time, as most things did, to be able to deal with those tears, but it only got harder.

Harder to not let Serenity go to the person who'd been hurt. Harder to obey the Ministry in recording everything. Harder to treat Serenity as if she were a weapon for their government because he saw her for what she was. Just a young girl, with a power she didn't want, forced to live a life that wasn't right.

And, this time...

Serenity's crying had faded whilst Oliver was lost in thought. His stomach - or rather, the feelings built up inside of him that caused him stomach to roll, churn, and generally make him rather uncomfortable as he sat - was painful by now, wracked with guilt. Anger. Helplessness. Fear. Too many emotions sent his body through turmoil, but outwardly, Serenity would not know as he sat quietly, holding her close to him, and trying to soothe her subconsciously.

Serenity's stirring brought Oliver's eyes back to focusing, away from his plans, and back to the Room of Requirement, his girlfriend. The apology made Oliver shake his head, hating the sound of her apologising for something that was not her fault. Bringing one hand up, Oliver placed his index finger across her lips, hushing her without telling her to shush.

"Don't apologise, Serenity, this is not your fault." Oliver told her softly, giving her a small smile before it faded again.

"I'm going to get you out of this, if it's the last thing I do."

It was a promise. Simply stated, soft, not harshly toned. But, he was going to come good on it. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but at some point... at some point, he was going to get Serenity out of the Ministry, and give her the freedom she deserved.

The freedom she needed.

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» Now let me hold your hand (Victoria)
» All Will Be Well [Oliver]
» Oliver Francis Goulding
» The Truth (Kamren, Oliver & Serenity)