She was so cold. So desolate and alone and cold. It was far too quiet both inside and out. Then it just exploded out of her. The scream! Then after that one there was another and another and another. The act of releasing the building madness born of silent despair made her heady. She was alive again even as she became lost in the screams that tore from her. They were expressive of her despair and misery and emptiness. They were expressive of her fears. Fears of never seeing anyone ever again, of growing old in this place, her beauty slipping away until she was an old hunched crone and then finally died.
"Bella! You've got to be quiet or it will get their attention. They'll come over here and you know we don't want that. Talk to me, babe. Come on!" The insistent pleading voice came from Rod. He was in the cell directly to her left. The final scream became a sob on which she choked as Bellatrix fell to her knees, hands pressing flat onto the ground as her head dropped, wild black curls falling over her face. The curtain her hair provided served to shelter her in darkness, allowing her not to see her bleak surroundings at least for a moment.
"Alright," she acquiesced, resigned once again to this fate, at least until the next time the inner pressure became too great and she began to scream again.
"Talk to me," Rod insisted.
"I love you, Roddy." That was it. At times her love for him, for the life they'd once had and the life they still very much wanted, was all that held her together.
"You too, babe. Always."
In that moment, she wanted him to hold her in his arms more than anything else. That wasn't going to happen though, and she sobbed. That was alright as long as she wasn't screaming, though, because the Dementors only fed on joy, not misery.
Misery didn't taste good so they didn't care about it. Misery was a bitter draft and anyone who wanted to survive in Azkaban drank it daily, in part to keep themselves alive and unkissed by the foul fiends. It wasn't difficult thinking of things to inspire misery, though. Not when it was doubtful that they'd ever see freedom again. The thought was too much and she gave another low cry of despair.
It was then that she felt his arms come around her, drawing her hard against the warmth of his chest. How could he touch her when they were separated by the stupid cell wall, though?
"Come on, Bella, babe, wake up. Wake up!" Rodolphus shook her gently as he held her close. He smelled of soap and his hands were warm as they rubbed her back.
"Roddy," she gasped, suddenly feeling as though she was coming up from under water where she may have been drowning.
"That's right...I'm here," he replied and she clung to him for several wordless seconds before kissing him hard. He was quick to respond and soon he was deep inside of her as they busily reaffirmed their freedom.
There were never conjugal visits in Azkaban, after all. Pleasure shot through Bellatrix with every thrust of Rod's generous erection and her nails raked his back in encouragement. He filled her, his weight crushing her into the mattress as they strained toward completion together.
Only afterward, when she lay curled in Rodolphus's comforting embrace, did her mind stray back to her Azkaban nightmare. She must be more concerned than she'd initially thought over the killing of those fifty wizards in America.
"If they lock us up for killing that lot I swear I shall make someone suffer," she vowed, conveniently overlooking the fact that when locked away in Azkaban, no one could make anyone pay for anything ever again.
"You are concerned about that," Rodolphus asked, tone sleepily incredulous. "We were acting under orders, and I doubt Grindelwald, Valdez, or the Minister herself are trying to put themselves in Azkaban so we're safe. Besides...what sort of people do you believe those were, anyway?"
Bellatrix shifted slightly as her mind took that question in along with all of its implications. "People who were easily influenced, perhaps, or those too downtrodden by society to be missed?"
"Or both,"Rodolphus agreed.
"Good, then," she said, giving a sigh as she allowed relief to flood over her in a relaxing wave that promised a return to slumber very soon.
Rodolphus snickered. "I wonder precisely what she believes we should give Muggles reparations for? Not allowing them to burn more of us?"
"Who the hell knows," Bellatrix said, making a face of disgust that faded into a yawn. "To be honest, it's still difficult to wrap my mind around the fact that she's even bloody real. I shall never be able to imagine the Dark Lord shagging. It just doesn't happen. It's right up there in the realm of completely unthinkable, right beside us remaining sober at a holiday party!"
"So true," Rodolphus agreed. "How do snakes do it anyway?"
"I don't know, and I don't care. What's more, it isn't a thing I wish to contemplate before going back to sleep," Bellatrix told him firmly.
"Fair enough," Rodolphus said before kissing her in apology. One kiss turned into another and another and before long he was inside her again. They did not return to sleep for at least another hour.
When they woke, it was to the now all too familiar sound of Lyra banging on their bedroom door. Bellatrix knew it was Lyra because while Harold had to wake them from time to time, the elf always knocked politely rather than banging like a Neanderthal. "Grindelwald and his man are here. Harold is giving them breakfast," she called.
Though Rod's words on the matter last night were logical and had comforted her, Bellatrix felt her stomach flip. What if Grindelwald was here to take them in for killing fifty bloody people! Something deep within her survival instinct screamed for them to get the hell out of there to avoid capture. She couldn't stand returning to Azkaban again!
"Right. Tell him we'll be down shortly," Rod called back to Lyra as he rolled out of bed.
"This is like the second time I've had to go to the Ministry to make sure you're alright and see what's going on when you didn't come home on time," Lyra said belligerently, instead of moving away to deliver Rodolphus's message to Grindelwald.
"I knew you'd be upset when I noticed how dark it was when we returned to London," Bellatrix told her with a sigh. "You weren't around when we got home so I assumed you were in bed and did not wish to disturb you."
"Whatever," Lyra grumped. The ensuing silence indicated her departure.
"Good," Bellatrix grumbled as she dragged herself out of bed. "She can snark at Grindelwald instead."
"She won't. He likes her," Rodolphus said as he tossed Bellatrix a dark green dress from the wardrobe beside which he was still standing.
He was a good husband as well as her best friend. "Thanks."
Bellatrix stretched out an arm to catch the dress, and simply held it for a moment as she stared at Rodolphus, love swelling in her chest for her other half. Of course she loved him, but with constant chaos happening daily, she rarely had time to ruminate on that fact.
"I love you, Roddy," she said quietly.
"You too, babe," he replied, snatching a comb from her dressing table and running it through his hair.
"Fuck, we've slept in and with Grindelwald waiting I don't even have time to shave," he complained. "Fuck it."
Bellatrix grinned at him, then pulled her dress over her head. "Just go with the rugged look. It works."
Downstairs, Rabastan and Lyra were seated at the breakfast table with Gellert and Blaise. Coffee and plates of food waited for Bellatrix and Rodolphus, and it all smelled like heaven. Bella reached eagerly for her coffee as she slid into her chair.
"Are you going to give us shit for following orders," she asked directly, giving the blonde wizard a resentful glower over the rim of her coffee cup.
Grindelwald bit into a slice of toast and blinked at her. "What are you on about?"
"Those we killed yesterday… Didn't you go to America to check into them? You did get the letter last night, did you not?"
Grindelwald blinked again, then sighed as he glanced over to Rodolphus. "She's a lot, your wife."
Rod grinned, placing a hand on Bellatrix's thigh. "Yeah...isn't she brilliant?"
"She's...a lot," Grindelwald reiterated.
"So aren't you here about the bloody people Delphini had screwed?" Bellatrix demanded. "She's a bit too much like her father when it comes to that for my comfort."
She sighed as she took in the fact that she'd just realized why the entire situation was bothering her so much, at least in part. "I suppose they were like us...and we didn't know. They may have stood against her were they given a choice," she said, forcing the words out. "Instead she twisted their minds as her father twisted ours."
Grindelwald shook his head dismissively then took a swig of coffee.
"No. What she did to them wasn't at all the same," he assured calmly. "What she did to them would not have worked had they not agreed to a degree. That isn't to say they deserved death, but we did need to send her a message and war is war."
Suddenly he gave Bellatrix a sharp look. "You actually thought I would toss you under the train? Use you two as scapegoats if we made a bad call? I spent longer than you in a literal prison of my own making. I'd never do that to anyone! Not to mention I am very loyal to my own."
Was he putting them in the category of his inner circle? Bellatrix smiled. "Sorry."
Grindelwald nodded. "Good."
"So we weren't like that lot we killed, then?" she persisted, still needing to be certain on the situation.
"Of course not," Grindelwald said. "No part of you wanted to worship Voldemort when you attempted to kill him. She just had to nudge them a bit to be more of what they already were. To push boundaries they once had."
"So did you find out any more from them today," Bella asked, and Gellert shook his head.
"No. I fixed them in order to understand what she'd done, then left them to the American Aurors who will set them free after placing trackers on them."
"That's exciting! If Delphini contacts them, we'll know," Lyra enthused and Grindelwald nodded.
"That's the idea. We were pleasantly surprised by the competency of the American Aurors."
"And you just came to tell us this personally," Bellatrix asked, beginning to feel special.
Grindelwald nodded. "I didn't feel like writing it in a letter. Besides, I got free breakfast out of it."
Somehow Grindelwald's mention of breakfast reminded Bellatrix of the highly offensive issue she wished to broach, probably because the Bulstrodes had eaten that disgusting Muggle breakfast food before visiting MACUSA Headquarters.
"Were you aware that the Bulstrodes use Muggle transport as part of their international travel," Bellatrix asked Grindelwald. The memory caused her to shudder as though she sat in the limousine again.
"No, I was not. All of that is cleared with the Minister, but be warned, she is a supporter of Muggle McDonalds." He made a face. "Before you ask, it is the most disgusting Muggle food you can imagine and she, a respectable pureblood with otherwise quite suitable values, eats it for lunch daily. In other words, if you take your complaints to her, she may not care."
"We had to ride in a Muggle car more than once, and the Bulstrodes actually ate Muggle food at a bloody Muggle coffee shop," Bellatrix persisted. "It was as horrifying as it was disgusting."
"I shall try not to imagine," Grindelwald said with a shudder as Zabini nodded in silent agreement, a look of well-bred disgust on his haughty features.
"On the bright side, you were brilliant to get us the Murtlaps and Fire Crabs," Gellert told Bellatrix warmly. "That was some good quick thinking on your part."
She wouldn't bother to pretend that his compliments weren't pleasing. He was Grindelwald, after all. "I am glad. I thought if you couldn't figure out a way to make some sort of magic-proof ointment or potion out of the things, at least we'd keep them away from her."
Blaise frowned. "Now that's interesting… We hadn't yet considered an ointment."