Numb ((Stephen)) [PG-13]

[Dakota Fox S6]

There will likely be strong language and other adult content in this thread,
so to be careful, this is rated PG-13;
therefore, please read at your own discretion. Thank you.

It was snowing. Dakota looked up, into the dark depths of the night sky, and breathed out. Fog vaporised from her mouth, curling into the air as she folded her hands into her thick cloak's pockets. It was dining hour, most of the school in the Great Hall feasting; the atmosphere was rife with excitement for the Christmas holidays, students tearing through the corridors on riotous, rebellious highs, and filing into Hogsmeade to cram into every shop corner for presents. Dakota hated it; hated the festivities - the joy, the laughter, the innocence of it all. Oh how she resented them all, so much so she could no longer stand it, could not share space with them for it was so suffocating. So she stood in the Courtyard, abandoned and alone, and nowhere near contentment.

For the first time in six years, Dakota would not be returning home for Christmas. Unsurprisingly, her parents had not batted an eyelid of concern or care. Of course, her mother had lamented her absence in her letter, but even when Dakota was home, every member of the Fox family would spend Christmas apart, with the exception of the Christmas dinner, which was almost compulsory to attend. Every son of Roland and Lauren was made to attend, wherever they happened to be in the world, or whatever important discovery or appointment they had. Dakota would be no exception, except she already had the cunning plan of feigning severe illness on Christmas Day.

The cold stung at Dakota's cheeks, pale and pallid, and she sucked in a deep lungful of clear winter air. Her senses had numbed from the cold, but she saw it as a blessing; she had spent so long feeling, she wanted no more to feel. It was more merciful to be emotionless; truly strong, truly invincible to everything. Dakota's hair fell in limp waves over her shoulders, some curls tucked into the nape of her neck where the collar of her cloak began. She was so ethereal - not beautiful, but ethereal with her white skin and hollow eyes - she could have been mistaken for a ghost, carried by the winter wind through the castle grounds.

Dakota had expected to be left well and truly alone in this darkness, this cold, bitter night. Who would wander from the warmth and joy of the castle towards this emptiness? Who else but Dakota? But she was wrong. She was not the only one, and as a familiar face emerged under the moonlight, metres away, Dakota wondered if Fate despised her; if all the wrongs she had ever made in her short life had brought about karma so vengeful. Her throat caught in mid-breath at the stony visage and unsympathetic eyes, and unwillingly, she took an unsteady step back. She could barely trust herself to speak, she was so scared and angry and bitter, all in one.

Staunch silence stretched between them, until Dakota burst away from her standstill, beginning to rush past and away from Stephen, back to the castle. But he blocked her steps, always in the way, always, her mind screamed, fear knotted tight in her gut as she looked up and into unforgiving flints, desperate to keep away. "Let me pass," Dakota ordered, her voice frosty but shaking. "Let me pass right now." It was their first meeting in almost a year now, and however much Dakota had prepared for this, whispered in her mind she would kill Stephen and exact her revenge when the time came, nothing was like standing before him now, watching his figure of darkness and cold, and feeling as helpless as a baby.

[Stephen Donahue S7]

((....you already know I have a hard time controlling him...this post was extremely hard for me to keep nice. So I do say...tread cautiously cause Stephen is fighting to get out.))


Stephen Donahue stepped from the brightness of the Hogwarts Castle. Anger was dwelling just under his skin, longing to burst out. A call of his name, the sound of his father’s voice drifted over his mind. “Shut up,” he growled into the darkness. His father’s voice was getting louder with the roar from inside the building. This was why he wished them all dead…silence was better than anything else. He wouldn’t have to hear their joy, their laughter. The holidays were nothing to him…nothing but a useless waste of time. What did they think they were doing anyway? Feasting together in such a way…Purebloods needed to remain away from the horrific stench of the Mudbloods that would undoubtedly be there. Yet when he’d stepped into the hall for just a moment he’d seen one large table inhabited by not only students, but staff (mudbloods and all)…he would certainly not sit with those beneath him.

Tall, strong figure moved through the halls, dark hazel green eyes lost on the image of his father. They walked together, his father shouting at him in words he’d long started to understand. It only took so many times of seeing the same apparition before you just finally began to get used to it. His father’s apparition had a habit of changing on a day to day basis. Sometimes it knew who he was…knew what he had done to it…other times it was back just before the attack that had left him with post traumatic stress…before Stephen had killed him. The screams from his father cut out all other sound and made his skin crawl in annoyance and anger. He longed to be rid of his father, but that was beyond the simple powers of a wizard.

Bursting from the castle he entered into the courtyard. Eyes were blinded by the darkness, but slowly they adjusted to the bright white snow that fell around him. It was peaceful…yipeee he thought in annoyance. If there was one thing that Stephen didn’t want it was peace. He longed for a battle of wills…longed to take possession of someone…anyone. Where was Josephine when you needed her? So he’d gotten rid of her…he would pull her back in…as he always did with the things he possessed. Speaking of things he possessed…his eyes fell on a figure with brilliant blonde hair. The familiar curves of her figure brought the smirk to his face. Dakota Fox…now that was one person he hadn’t seen in a long time.

Stephen moved toward her smirking wide as she caught sight of him. She tried to run from him, but he sidestepped right into her path. The look on her face sent warmth up Stephen’s spine. How he loved to see the fear on her face…it made him feel as if he had accomplished something great. He licked his lips as he stared down at her, his large frame shadowing her completely from any lights. The scared little Dakota Fox…she was definitely a delight. He ignored her outburst. He wasn’t even going to acknowledge the fact that she had ordered him to move.

“Well hello there…my little porcelain doll. It’s been far too long,” he cooed as his hand moved and ran across her cheek like the caress of a lover…though his voice was far too cruel to be that of a lovers. “What’s the matter love? Afraid for your reputation? We both know that’s a laugh.” His hand moved from her cheek, down along her neck across her shoulder till he gripped her arm.

The voice of his father shouted at that moment, not necessarily to Stephen, more like the remnants of a memory of his own. “You better do something with that girl Donahue! She’ll kill you the first chance she gets!” “I know,” Stephen responded to the voice, as his eyes held Dakota’s…the cold numbing everything that was left in Stephen.

[Dakota Fox S6]

((Bring. It. On. *is evil* And-- it's coming. The truth is coming.))


"I'm not yours, and I'm not a doll," Dakota snapped on instinct, rallying against Stephen's remarks despite her fear, before his hand against her cheek - shiver like electrocution running down her spine - caused her to fling away in horror. "Get away from me!" she screamed, torn between rage and fright. "Don't you dare touch me!" It was too late, though; Stephen's strong grip held her arm, and however much Dakota squirmed, desperate to run away from her worst nightmare, she was made helpless and immobile. "Get off, you b******!" she hissed venomously, though fear continued to dilute her wild eyes. "I don't have a reputation anymore, I don't give a s*** what people think!" she added bitingly, standing as far away as was possible with Stephen's grip on her arm.

Dakota's eyes met Stephen's, and she visibly flinched. He was so cold, so dark and numb to everything. How could such a beast exist in this world? Dakota continued to writhe against his hold, but eventually she grew weaker, began to realise she would not escape any time soon, not until her captor chose to let her go. Dakota feared when this would be. She heard the words of I know slip from Stephen's lips, and her mind was thrown into confusion, but she realised, upon stubbornly, painfully holding his stare, that he was looking past her, through her, and she wondered if he was even crazier than before; even crazier than her. She needed to get away.

"Get off me, or you will truly regret it," Dakota finally stated, now calmer, more collected, and voice a dead weight. Her fear continued to ripple through her skin, raising goosebumps, but it had been oppressed by helplessness of a truly trapped victim. "I vowed I would take revenge one day, and I will, you b******, I [expletive] will. I won't be used again." Dakota swallowed down tears and pressed onwards, using her free arm to draw out her wand and point it with only the slightest wobble at Stephen's chest. "Let. Me. Go." Her voice was made of tremors, but her eyes stared straight at the object of her nightmares, the bane of her existence. Dakota would end this struggle once and for all.

[Stephen Donahue S7]

“Would you prefer me calling you something else?” he mused with a smirk as he leaned it. “Perhaps a dirty. Little. W****?” Each word was emphasized, as he held tight to her. Not allowing her to fling herself from his hands. Her rage was amusing to Stephen…as must things were anymore. He was so numb that he’d begun to find things amusing…the cruelest of things had become a release to him and that’s what this was. She was his release…now if only she’d just behave herself long enough to make him happy. At her name calling he feigned shock and hurt, his free hand going to his chest, pressing there as if she had physically wounded him. “That’s harsh Doll…after all we’ve been through. I thought you were just going to through me in with that pile of ‘Been There, Done Him, Got the T-Shirt’? What babe? Change your mind? Realise that you want more of this?”

Stephen was lost for a moment…staring at his father who seemed to be speaking to him. The things he was telling him were far beyond the demented state that his father had been in. No…this was Stephen’s own personal demon. The one that spoke about everything and anything…the one specifically made to drive Stephen crazy. Yes…it was a safe assumption that Stephen could no longer tell reality from his hallucinations. It made things that more dangerous…that more difficult. The part of him that had known this would happen, the part that had worried about him returning to Hogwarts was gone. The angel on his shoulder had disappeared with his conscience…all that left was the hallucinated image of his father and the words that were being screamed at him. It wasn’t until Dakota actually began to speak to him that he was brought out of his crazy reality.

If there was one thing that Stephen couldn’t resist it was a challenge and Dakota’s words were a challenge. She was egging him on and she didn’t even realise it. The thin smile on Stephen’s face slowly grew to a full-blown smirk as she began speaking with a tongue that was far dirtier than he had ever imagined coming from her. “Tsk. Tsk. Didn’t Daddy ever teach you manners?” he said in amusement as her free arm pointed her wand at him. He couldn’t stop the smirk. It was taking over every part of his face. She had actually just pulled her wand on him. That was an amusing piece of wood. “What are you going to do Doll? Are you going to kill me? Cause me pain?” His words were turning crueler by the minute as the smile was slowly fading behind those dead eyes. “You don’t have it in you. You never did. Why do you think we’re here now? You didn’t have the gall to fight me then and you don’t have the gall to do it now.” He had the urge to remind her of the words he had spoken to her on the train last year, but he would leave that for later, right now he was just having too much fun tormenting the girl.

“Let you go?” he paused for a moment to pretend like he was actually pondering the thought before he smirked. “No.” Stephen knew she wouldn’t use her wand…not on him. That would be too risky…even for her. She had truly become Miss Antisocial lately, but that didn’t mean anything to him. He was always locked up in his room as it was. “How about we just kiss and make up?”

[Dakota Fox S6]

"[expletive] off," Dakota hissed, instinctively leaning away as Stephen moved forward, closer, invading every inch of her personal space. Where his hand, cold and hard, held her, she could feel ripples of disgust, running in shivers along her arm. "I want nothing from you," Dakota spat, a little more tearfully but head still held high, her shaking eyes staring straight into his. "Haven't you done enough? You've had your fun, you b******! Watching me lose everything, isn't that enough for you?!" Her voice reached a scream, high-pitched and pained, and again she tried to wrench herself away, but still to no avail. He was too strong.

"I would ask the same of you," Dakota snapped, turning the matter of manners onto Stephen. "Didn't your father ever teach you self-control? Even a shred of human empathy?" For the first time, Dakota drew closer to Stephen, her eyes dark with rage and resentment. "I know I'm a b****; always have been, always will be," she whispered in a tight, harsh voice. "But I've never been a monster. Did you get that from your parents?" Dakota's mouth twisted into a sneer, derisive and bitter. "I won't have you put me down; not when you're the real monster. I'm not perfect, but you... you're not even human."

Dakota's wand rested against a rib, end poking hard into Stephen's chest. A tremor through her wrist was noticeable, but Dakota's stare was hard, determined, vengeful. "I doubt you can feel pain," she said steadily in a deadpan lilt. "I doubt you have feelings at all." When Stephen's mouth formed the word 'kiss', voice dripping with smug superiority, Dakota's mind lost its fight for control; the band snapped, and she shouted with feeling, "Crucio!" The thought that she was breaking the wizard law by using an Unforgivable Curse briefly came to mind, but Dakota's lust for revenge, for salvation, pressed it down.

Stephen's body was propelled from hers, and the moment his hand released her from pain, Dakota flung herself back, as far away from him as possible. Metres away, she held her wand as steadily as possible, pointing towards Stephen, and watched as he writhed and contorted from the spell. "This is how you made me feel," she whispered, eyes empty and hollow. "This is the pain you caused me, this is the pain I live every single [expletive] day!" Dakota's words were spat out in derision, and she could not stop, could not halt the stream of hurt and anger.

"I hate you so [expletive] much, Stephen Donahue! I hate you and I want you dead! I want to be the one to kill you and watch as the life drains from your eyes!" Dakota threw her head back and gave a bitter, manic laugh. "Then I won't have to look at you anymore and feel like I'm going out of my mind! I won't have to be reminded of my son!" The spell broke, leaving Stephen to wallow in pain and Dakota's wand limp at her side. A choke of breath caused her to pause her words, and she levelled her vengeful glare at Stephen once more, voice a quiet, deadly whisper now. "He may be the product of a monster like you, but you'll never see him. I will make sure of it."

---

[Stephen Donahue S7]

Stephen’s fingers closed tighter around her arm as she spat at him. There was nothing but fear rolling off her…fear and anger, but the fear was what held Stephen. He reveled in the power he had over her…the power to make her fear him. It was enough to make any man insane with it…and insane was a good word to use. Stephen was basking in the fear and power as she screamed at him. Her words weren’t anything to him. She could say whatever she wanted…he wouldn’t lose control. She could call him whatever name she wanted to it still didn’t change his mind on what he was going to do. At least that’s what he kept telling himself…up until Dakota made the biggest mistake she could make. Even with the wand jabbing him in the ribs it wasn’t enough to keep him from losing the smile that stained his cruel face.

“Didn’t your father ever teach you self-control?…….But I’ve never been a monster. Did you get that from your parents?”

The rage built in him like steam in a kettle. His fingers held tight to her arm as he found himself shaking with rage. You could say whatever you liked about him, but you never talked about his family…ever! It was the only thing that made Stephen even more dangerous than he already was. He wasn’t going to stand for it. Not ever! He wasn’t even going to play with her anymore. Free hand moved for her neck. He’d strangle her to death. Of course he’d never get that opportunity. The wand that still jabbed into his ribs was suddenly the most destructive object in the courtyard. The words that slipped from her mouth made Stephen’s eyes widen in shock…but only for a moment. The next thing he knew he was flying backward in more pain than he could have possibly ever remembered.

Stephen hoped for a moment of relief, but that wasn’t going to happen as his back arched pain bit at every part of his mental and physical state. The cry from his lips was low and yet full of agony. The words she yelled at him stuck in his mind like the voice of his father shouting at him. He’d always remember them…always. Stephen’s already broken mind was being driven to the edge of what sanity he had left. The pain was his only release and that was a scary thought. Focus on the pain and the pain would only get worse, but it was better than trying to retreat into his own mind. He heard someone screaming and then realised it was his own voice. Everything seemed to die around him in those moments…the pain slowly ebbing away…but not fast enough. Every inch of his body was on fire, burning with agony as his mind slowly began to process the last word she had spoken. There was a terrifying fear growing inside him…fear…that was something he had forgotten he could feel. As the word slowly registered he forced his body to move, his eyes falling on Dakota’s.

Son…
No!
I have a son.
NO!
His father’s voice was shouting inside his head and now so was Dakota’s. Her words taunting him as the pain filled the rest of his body. He could hardly move. Pain was still burning at the edges of his body and he didn’t know how to make it stop. All the pieces were slowly sliding into place and he knew without a doubt that she was telling the truth. It was the first time since he had raped her that his mind felt the guilt…but it was short lived as his eyes found hers. The hatred there fueled him…the challenge...his eyes narrowing into dark slits. He pulled himself up…shakily, but the adrenaline kept him going, as he stood before her. “Is it as sweet as you thought it would be?” he asked in a husky voice…low and dangerous. “Revenge?” He took a step forward…his eyes watching her closely. One hand at his side, his own wand clasped tight in his fingers. “I trust it is, just as it will be for me when I find my son.” The word was harder to say than he wanted to admit…it nearly broke his mind, but he wouldn’t break in front of her. He wouldn’t let her know that she could break him so easily, truth was the hatred that had coursed through him was quickly turning to pain…a pain so deep he wouldn’t ever look at it, because if he did then there would be no turning back and he couldn’t have that.

[Dakota Fox S6]

Dakota was shaking; from cold, from fear, she could not tell, and she had to grit her teeth together to halt their need to chatter. "No," she answered Stephen scathingly, wand back up and pointing at him again. "This is not enough. Not even close. Nothing will ever be enough." Dakota swallowed, felt her mouth was dry. "Revenge won't bring back what you took from me one year ago," she hissed, bitterness flashing through her eyes. "The pain will never stop, but the only way to numb it is by watching you in pain. You took everything from me, and you didn't even care. You showed no mercy, so why should I?" Dakota's grip on her wand tightened a fraction. "This is a battle to the death," she whispered. "After all, there is nothing to live for anymore. Not even my son."

Dakota's rage began to build once more as the word 'son' left Stephen's mouth, and she almost took a step forward towards him, she was so close to losing control again. "He is not your son!" she snarled, motherly over-protectiveness, such a foreign feeling to her, suddenly overwhelming. "You may have made him, but you are not his father, and never will be. You don't even know how to be a father! So just like I will never be his mother, you will never be his father." Red flushed through Dakota's pale cheeks for the first time in months, but it was mottled and ugly with anger. She only had eyes for Stephen. "He will never be yours. You'll never find him," she spat with unwavering confidence. Even she did not know where Damien was; only Pyro Blackfire held that knowledge, and he would never impart it upon Stephen. Dakota trusted in that.

There was so much Dakota wanted to add, wanted to say straight to Stephen's face, but she could not - not if she wanted to keep Damien's identity and whereabouts safe. She couldn't say his name to Stephen; couldn't describe his features, how he had inherited his mother's bright blonde hair and hazel-green eyes. Nothing about her son could ever be imparted to Stephen, to anyone except Pyro. "I would rather die before letting you near my son," Dakota hissed. "In fact, I would rather kill my son myself before you reached him. Because I love him, and I hate you." The words were spat with feeling, with undeniable hatred. "He will never know you, you b******, and that's what you get for being a monster, for what you did to me. Everything you touch turns to ash, and I won't let what you did to me happen to my son. I swear on my life."

[Stephen Donahue S7]

Dakota’s response was quick, her wand moving to point back at Stephen. He wasn’t afraid of her…of death or pain. The last several years was filled with death and pain…enough to last him a lifetime, but the numbness that co-existed in his heart was dark and uncaring. Stephen had gotten to the point that he knew that only one of them would walk about of this situation. There wasn’t anything he could say to her to change her mind and really he didn’t want to say anything. If she was determined to battle to the death he’d make sure she died with at least that dignity…or maybe not. A thin cruel smile was starting to pull at the corners of his mouth. His eyes were cold as those rose to catch Dakota’s. He wasn’t going to die here. They both knew that. She would be the one to die if this battle was to really happen, but where would the fun be in that. She was like a dog wanting to be put out of her misery. Well that wasn’t going to happen…Stephen wasn’t going to allow that.

“Kill her before she kills you,” his father whispered in his ear, standing beside him as if he were really there. To Stephen he really was…he was so much more than a hallucination. The words Dakota were basically yelling at Stephen seemed to have provoked his father and his appearance at his side should have made Stephen jump, but he didn’t. He was more concerned with what he had to say.
“No,” Stephen responded his head shaking as his eyes moved to his father for a moment. “Death would be her release. She wants that more than anything and I’d never be able to find my son then.”
“She’ll kill you someday.” His father was trying to reason with him, but Stephen knew that if he killed Dakota now it would just make her more powerful…keeping her fully from their son. He would never be able to find him with her dead. She needed to be left alive as much as that thought annoyed him.
“Better her than anyone else.”
“Destroy her resolve and you might live to fight another day.”
“Maybe.”

Dark hazel orbs returned to Dakota’s face as his father disappeared from beside him. He was away from the battle…didn’t want to get hurt, if he could get hurt. Stephen watched her closely, his eyes never leaving hers as his hand rose revealing his own wand. “I won’t kill you…not yet…not like this. You want freedom from the pain and I will not give you that. Besides I’d miss our little chats and only you can tell me about our son. So where is he Doll? Where is my son? I will find him…and I will let you live to see that day and then…that’s when I’ll kill you. Your failure as a mother will be complete at that moment. You cannot keep him from me that is my promise to you,” Stephen said in a dark voice. His hand was holding his wand ready. His father was still yelling at him just to kill her now and a deep part of him wanted to, but the demented part of his mind longed to break her completely…to absolutely destroy what was left of her. Just like he was destroyed.

[Dakota Fox S6]

Dakota was thrown off edge as Stephen began to seemingly respond - but to nothing she herself had said. Instead, his eyes were focused elsewhere - glassy, transparent - whilst his voice took a different quality, not the typical sneer he used to manipulate her fear. "What the hell are you talking about?" she snapped, confused and frightened by Stephen's erratic behaviour. Or who are you talking to? a voice echoed in Dakota's mind, but she shoved it aside when her blood ran cold at Stephen's words. "You think you can kill me?" she sneered then, flinging her arms wide open. "Go on then. I have nothing to live for. Kill me. I bet you haven't got it in you either."

Stephen was, to some extent, correct, though. Dakota feared death - such was the natural instinct of human beings - but she welcomed it also. Like she had already said aloud, she had little, if anything, to live for. Every day was a struggle; a struggle to hold on to sanity, to maintain control, to withstand the pain and anger and sorrow that threatened to explode within her chest. Dakota could not deny she wanted this to end - anything to numb this pain. But she did not want to die at Stephen Donahue's hand; he did not deserve that pleasure. On the other hand, she knew it would give her dead body some satisfaction that her death by him meant the secret of Damien rested with her forever.

Dakota could not answer Stephen immediately. She felt both relief and despair that he would not deal the final blow. Unable to choose between her conflicting emotions, she spat, "Neither will I kill you. One day, you will die by my hand; but only after I have made you suffer, just as much as you have made me suffer! Even if my soul burns in Hell, I will happily burn to watch you fall." Dakota's wand lay at her side once more, but the fire in her eyes did not cease, only grew harsher at Stephen's taunts. "Go to hell, Donahue!" she screeched. "You will never meet my child - I swear to you over my dead body!" And with that, Dakota turned and walked away - resisting the desire to run, run, run. She knew she would have to find some longer path back into the castle, thanks to Stephen blocking the entrance in from the Courtyard, but Dakota could no longer stand to be with him. It took all her nerve not to use Avada Kadevra then and there, and her lust for blood frightened her more than she could ever admit.