The Family Tree [Alex]

[Max Kameren]

The faces of his ancestors glared down at Max from the frescoed ceiling, but it wasn't the weight of their gaze that slumped his shoulders today. The last week had been the most torturous in the span of several months of what were both the best and worst days of his life. Max had been tortured, he and Rowena had been banished from St. Mungo's, and his girlfriend had been lost to the shadows. But throughout this he'd found true happiness; love, in the aura of Rowena Covington. The short time he'd had with her had been the best he'd ever had, the highest highs bookended with the lowest lows. Now, he'd lost everything.

The wave of pain had washed him here to his uncle's library. He'd pulled more information from Rowena's mind after her attack and had new leads to go on, pulling more books to research and hopefully find another way to fight back the Shadowloved. He'd found how he could fight with his powers, now they needed the numbers in the Ministry and the Black Watch to be prepared.

But the last few days had weighed on him heavily; he'd spent all his time since Rowena's attack sleeping on chairs at St. Mungo's, waking every few hours by the quakes and charges of Rowena's tortured soul. Here in the library he sat, still and alone for the first time since his return from Siberia. The warmth of the fireplace and fatigue of the last few adrenaline-fueled days finally caught up with Max, and before he knew it his head was down buried in the antique pages of the book he'd been searching. He had nothing left: no happiness, no passion, no energy. 

[Alecsander]

It had been a mind-numbingly long day. Alex sighed as he came home to an empty castle, he hadn't really noticed how empty it felt in years. But these past few weeks with Elle, he could feel it again. She would be gone to her night shift by now, he'd left her early and she wouldn't be home until the morning. He stretched, feeling tight muscles protest and then loosen as he entered the library. There he found the missing members of his household, furry bodies curled up beside the fire, or, in Max II's case, curled under the chair of his nephew, who was slumped over a book at Alex's desk.

Alex settled into his chair beside the fire, picking a book up from the table beside it. Silence enveloped the library, protecting them from the outside world, if only for a time.

---
Once known by a different name, a different purpose. Long ago it was stolen from its eternal vigil and corrupted [...] leading to a dark time in history--

Some time later, Alex looked up from his book to find Max's green eyes watching him. He smiled briefly, marking his place with a finger and closing the book. "Good evening."

[Max Kameren]

For hours Max sat slumped in his pile of books, dead to the world in a way no pop of the fireplace or nudge from Max II’s cold snout could reach. For a week he’d been inconstant crisis-mode, spurred between action and mourning with each turn of Rowena’s condition. The love of his life had been tortured and broken beyond the point of recognition. No amount of care he held in his heart for her could make those amber eyes recognize him. He’d done what he could to help her but mentally she was gone.

Then, she disappeared entirely. Somehow Rowena had escaped the hospital and absconded, in search of something Max couldn’t understand. She’d told him, but in fragmented sentences he couldn’t piece together. Again he’d failed her, nodding off in the chair he occupied at her side rather than stand vigil. She deserved so much better.

The few hours in Rowena’s hospital room with her were the last winks of sleep Max had gotten in the 48 hours since; when he realized his mistake he attempted to follow her tracks, eventually losing her and instead trying to predict where she would go. He searched her London home top-to-bottom, scoured Nottingham, and nearly gotten kicked out of her childhood home when he strayed from a Wollaton Hall tour in search of her. When he’d run out of ideas he returned to the Estate, in search of answers from the Kameren Library. And in search of the person Rowena had been looking for before her disappearance: Alex.

In his uncle’s absence Max sought the library for answers, only making it through a single index before his exhaustion got the better of him. Hunched over his uncle’s desk Max slept like the dead; he didn’t stir at his uncle’s presence in the library until the sun was setting and the gothic windows left long orange projections on the opposite walls.

Max started into wakefulness, his body seizing with the surprise of a prolonged nap he hadn’t intended to take. He looked around woozily, pushing himself up on his elbows as he adjusted to the climate the new aura in the room brought with him; Alex was always oddly comforting for Max to have in proximity to himself, something about his aura was a stabilized him.

"Good evening."

Max grunted in reply, rubbing his eyes as he sat back in the desk chair. Even with a small amount of rest he still felt exhausted. Wrung out and twisted, like at any moment he might tear in two. “Let myself in, sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming."

"You haven’t heard from Rowena since I asked you this morning, have you?” As he faded back into full consciousness the desperation's claws sunk back in. He knew the answer, but couldn't help asking anyway.

[Alecsander]

Max grunted in reply, rubbing his eyes as he sat back in the desk chair. Even with a small amount of rest he still felt exhausted. Wrung out and twisted, like at any moment he might tear in two. “Let myself in, sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming."

Alex waved this away as of no concern, Max's presence in the Estate didn't bother him. He welcomed it even, on most occasions. And he was welcome now, but Alex worried at how hard he had been pushing himself this past week. Alex had lost no little sleep and meals himself these past few weeks, stretching his aurors thin and himself thinner. Was it possible for Max to become thinner in the meagre hours since he'd seen him last?

"You haven’t heard from Rowena since I asked you this morning, have you?”

Max II whined, sensing the change in the mood of his favorite person, laying his head on a boney knee. Alex shook his head, wishing he had better news.

"You would be first to know."

[Max Kameren]

"You would be first to know."

“Thought as much.” Max nodded and sighed, unable to hold eye contact with his uncle and instead glancing down at the book he’d been sleeping on. As soon as he’d discovered Rowena’s disappearance Max had reached out to the aurors, many of whom were still inspecting her ruined townhouse. Max struck out ahead of the Ministry in hopes of finding Rowena on his own, but to no avail. Another failure; Max was getting far too used to the disappointment weighing on his chest. After all the training he’d done with Alex and the other aurors he felt he’d failed them, too.

“Oh! I have memories for you, by the way. They’re Ro’s memories of what happened. I pulled them out of her aura by accident…” Max bit his lip as the violet scenes flashed through him again and he shuddered. The vivid memories of his girlfriend’s torture and his faked death would serve as yet another thing to keep him up at night. He pushed himself up from the desk and felt his pockets for his wand, his brow furrowing when he came up short. “Shit. Left my wand somewhere. D’you mind?”

[Alecsander]

“Oh! I have memories for you, by the way. They’re Ro’s memories of what happened. I pulled them out of her aura by accident"

Alex lifted one brow at his nephew. Lifted them from her aura? Just what had he learned in Russia? She'd been tortured, and badly. Alex had very seldom seen its like. However he had gotten them, Alex wished he could extract the entirety of the memories, leaving nothing behind to keep Max up at night. He glanced up at the representation of his family tree done on the ceiling. Done in enchanted paint, the fresco would never run out of room. In theory.

“Shit. Left my wand somewhere. D’you mind?”

"Of course." Alex drew his own wand, leaning over Max and opening a small drawer and extracting several small vials. "Ready?" he started spooling out long silver memories, when they were done a tiny row of vials stood on the desk. Alex leaned against the desk, looking down at Max. Damn but the boy looked like Curse, hack in his better days. Eyes smudged with fatigue and worry, he reminded Alex of Curse when he'd have his teeth sunk into a case, not sleeping, constantly searching for that next clue. Curse had never been able to pace himself, always giving his all and then more. A wry grin quirked his mouth. Not that he was doing any better right now, he was stretching thin himself.

[Max Kameren]

“Shit. Left my wand somewhere. D’you mind?”

"Of course." Max sat back down so Alex wouldn’t have to reach up to his temple. Slowly his head dropped as he pulled the horrible memories to the forefront of his mind, his eyes squeezing closed as the violent imagery assaulted him. "Ready?"

“Yeah, go.” The younger Kameren took a shuddering breath as he felt the familiar tug of a memory being pulled from his mind. He focused as much as he could so as to catch every detail he pulled from Rowena to give Alex the clearest second-hand memory he could get him. Max’s mood plummeted the room into cold, smothering the fire in the hearth and spooking the dogs. Together they pulled four vials: one for each day Rowena had endured torture in his absence. He felt his stomach plummet as he thought of the sick twist of Rowena’s leg, the mental violation Michael had put her through, but what hurt most was the final day. Through it all Rowena had been so strong, her resolve unbroken until Michael had poisoned her mind with his fraudulent death. Being in her head to feel her break and feeling her yearning for death broke Max’s heart most of all. It was the thing he couldn’t shake.

“Sorry,” Alex corked the last vial And Max pushed himself up to try to relieve some of the effect his aura had had on the library, re-lighting the fireplace with a muttered Incendio. The ghosts of Rowena’s experience still echoed in his mind even as he tried to quiet them and he pulled up the opposite armchair to the one Alex had been occupying, staring blankly into the bright flames. The two wizards fell into a comfortable silence for a moment as Max got lost in thought, letting his hand hang off the chair for Max II to find and nuzzle.

How did Max keep fighting when his heart was lost? He’d done nothing but play defense the last few months, and all it had done was leave a target on his back. When they were finally in a position to strike they’d been too late. Rowena was gone. How could he keep on after this?

“How do you do it?” Max glanced up at his uncle, emerald eyes dull and weary as he glanced at Alex in his peripheral. “After the War, the Flux… everything. How d’you take hits like this and just… keep going?” He ran a hand through his hair to try to relieve his exasperation, staring into the flames as if they had an answer for him. There was no easy answer for this.

[Alecsander]

“Sorry,"

Alex shot Max a look as he corked the last vial, but said nothing as Max started setting the room to rights again. The dogs slunk back cautiously as the feeling of normalty returned to the room. With such a reaction Alex wasnt looking forward to viewing the vials himself. He leaned forward and pushed on a hidden panel, a small drawer popping free where he secreted the vials before returning to his chair. He settled in with an exhausted sigh and they sat in silence for a time.

“How do you do it?” Max glanced up at his uncle, emerald eyes dull and weary as he glanced at Alex in his peripheral. “After the War, the Flux… everything. How d’you take hits like this and just… keep going?”

Alex looked over at his nephew, heaving a great breath as he thought. How did you keep going? It was hard, unimaginably hard. When he spoke it was slow, with great breadths of time between thoughts. "You keep going... Hecause you have to. When I met your father... It was like I was no longer alone in the world. Cain was ky brother but there was something about Curse." how could he describe it? That feeling of connection? "My family--our family. I was a disgrace, and he was unthinkable. Has he told you, his mere existance was supposed to be impossible." he looked into the,fire, eyes on the distant past.

"And so we kept each other going, through the war, through betrayals. And after. Andnyou get so used to moving forward, that you can't stop even if you wanted to. And there are prople, to support you and who need you, and you cant let them down." he cast a knowing glance at Max. Rowena was one such for Max. "And you stand and defend, because its all you know and all you can do. And because you're needed."

[Max Kameren]

“How do you do it?” Max glanced up at his uncle, emerald eyes dull and weary as he glanced at Alex in his peripheral. “After the War, the Flux… everything. How d’you take hits like this and just… keep going?”

A long silence fell between them and Max felt the familiar aura of his uncle percolate, amassing the words he would need to hold in his mind and usher past his lips with great effort. Max had barely known his uncle before the demon attack that put him in a coma; the staccato rhythm of his uncle’s speech wasn’t something he thought about unless he felt Alex getting aggravated with it. “You keep going... Hecause you have to. When I met your father... It was like I was no longer alone in the world. Cain was ky brother but there was something about Curse. My family--our family. I was a disgrace, and he was unthinkable. Has he told you, his mere existance was supposed to be impossible."

Max nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing, his silence urging Alex to continue. That was one of the few things that Curse had told him about their mysterious bloodline, he mused with a glance towards the ceiling; he and Max were the only half-bloods in the history of the bloodline. There had been a blood curse in place to prevent their very existence form happening, but here they were. They were the human embodiment of the tides of the Kameren family’s turning. Curse had called them unlucky: their burden for breaking the curse. Max had always seen it as a funny superstition Curse kept, but recent events left him wondering.

"And so we kept each other going, through the war, through betrayals. And after. Andnyou get so used to moving forward, that you can't stop even if you wanted to. And there are prople, to support you and who need you, and you cant let them down." Alex’s glance wasn’t needed for Max’s thoughts to go directly to Rowena; he’d failed her when she needed him. "And you stand and defend, because its all you know and all you can do. And because you're needed."

“Stand and defend.” Max echoed, the words sounding in his father’s familiar rasp in his head as he spoke them. He would keep going. He always knew the answer. He always would. There was nowhere to go but forward; he could take a moment to mourn what he’d lost as he had the night before, but beyond that he had responsibilities. Alex was right: people depended on him. His mum, Ari, and his sisters still needed him. The target he wore on his back wasn’t just his own; with Winston Warghollow still craving his blood none of his loved ones were safe.

Max’s eyes closed and he laid back in the armchair as the fire’s warmth washed over him, sighing as his prolonged nap on the desk hadn’t brought him any relief from his exhaustion. Words of his father floated to the forefront of his mind, statements he would let slip in darker conversations: “This is the price we pay. We have the ability to act, therefore we must. No matter the cost.” With his fatigue Max’s voice seemed to rasp along to the same timbre as their lost relation, like the ghost of Curse Kameren himself had spoken them.

Another comfortable silence fell between the two exhausted wizards, the fire crackling as they stared blankly into their own thoughts, each trying to piece together the broken world they lived in.

“Alex?” Max asked, breaking the silence as a thought occurred to him. He opened his eyes but didn’t look at Alex, his green eyes instead flashing up to the emerald-eyed portraits that sneered down at them. His eyes found the most recent addition, made years before Max was born: his grandfather, Cedric Kameren, glowering down at his son and grandson from high above. They’d found Sophia, but Max still didn’t know the full story. “What happened here?”

[Alecsander]

“This is the price we pay. We have the ability to act, therefore we must. No matter the cost.”


Alex managed only a cracked "Yes," and a nod. He stood, striding heavily to the liquor cabinet, safely away from the fire, and returned to Max with two glasses and a half-empty bottle of whisky. The same whisky he had been well on his way to making his second bottle the night Elle had strode raging to his door.

“Alex? What happened here?”

Again time passed before Alex spoke. So many emotions flashed through him, pain, anger, regret. Loss. Love. There had been love once. "I told you once... I dont want to be like him. In so many ways. I think he loved us once, but he was weak. I remember... I. I remember the fighting most, what happened before that is hazy. They f-fought with words, with magic. Sometimes mother would throw something. And then one day, he killed her." he stopped to breath, to look into the swirling liquid and try and find answers. "That was my first year, I came home to my mother dead nand Cedric. Ccedric was raving. I was here weeks with him, never leaving his side, until I escaped." Alex paused, then kept talking, telling of how his friends Cain and Cal had taken him in.

"When I first met him--your father." Alex finished his glass and poured another, his hand forcibly steady. "I looked up and-and I saw him. It was like I was young again," his eyes too flashed to the ceiling, "he looked so much like Cedric then. I knew, but I was in denial. When we finally pieced it together, we knew Sophia must have been here that day as well... But no one cared for a missing muggle, and no one knew where she had gone--certainly no one would have assumed a muggle would have come here." he lapsed into silence. Certainly Cedric's list of crimes was lengthy, did Max truly wish him to list them all? He tossed back the second drink swiftly, then turned the empty glass in his hands. What else did he want?

[Max Kameren]

“This is the price we pay. We have the ability to act, therefore we must. No matter the cost.”

"Yes," and a nod. Max glanced to the side as Alex pushed himself up and turned for the liquor cabinet, pulling out two glasses and a half-bottle of whisky. It appeared his uncle coped with the weight of that responsibility the same way Max did: scotch. The healer arched a grateful brow at Alex as he took the glass, holding it loosely in his four-fingered hand and staring into the fire as silence fell between them once more, each man sipping quietly to escape their ghosts.

“Alex?” A thought occurred to Max he’d wanted to ask his uncle. Sophia had been largely dealt with, but the question of how she’d ended up in the basement still remained. “What happened here?”

Time passed and Max felt the roil of his uncle’s aura, shifting through several thoughts and feelings as he tried to land on somewhere to start. Max stayed patient and quiet; he knew this was difficult for Alex. His heightened sixth sense since his return from Siberia wasn’t necessary for him to see it. "I told you once... I dont want to be like him […] Ccedric was raving. I was here weeks with him, never leaving his side, until I escaped."

It surprised Max how much he could relate. Alex expressed his fear of never wanting to turn into Cedric Kameren, but by his descriptions he wasn’t the one who should have worried: Curse was. The vignettes Alex described could have been swapped out for scenes in Max’s childhood just as easily: though he never doubted his father’s love for him, Max understood the caution of living in a home with someone familiar but unpredictable. Knowing they loved you and didn’t want to hurt you, but still wondering when you met their eyes and saw the clouds of another world creeping in. It was a harrowing experience, walking the line between depending on someone but not fully trusting them. It affected him still today. But Max had never seen those clouds in Alex Kameren’s vision, not even on their worst days together. No, Max didn’t think he needed to worry.

"When I first met him--your father. I looked up and-and I saw him. It was like I was young again," his eyes too flashed to the ceiling. Max’s eyes followed, again finding Cedric. Alex was right, it was unsettling: with his sunken cheeks and slightly crooked nose, with a few extra scars the portrait of Cedric Kameren could easily be a younger Curse. Hell, a few extra scars and a beard and the portrait could even be an older Max. "He looked so much like Cedric then. I knew, but I was in denial. When we finally pieced it together, we knew Sophia must have been here that day as well... But no one cared for a missing muggle, and no one knew where she had gone--certainly no one would have assumed a muggle would have come here."

Max nursed his drink as they lapsed into silence again, trying to let the pain in Alex’s aura fade. He didn’t need to elaborate or continue; clearly it was painful for him. There was an entire library behind them with books on their family’s history if Max wanted more. He’d just wanted the real history of Alex and Curse’s childhood, not something sensationalized in the Propher or the Ministry’s files. Max too had been a subject of morbid gossip at that age. Looking into Alex’s past that way felt wrong.

“You’re not that way, though.” Once again Max broke the silence, taking a sip of his drink without looking at his uncle. “I’ve felt the minds of killers. Of the insane. I may not have known Cedric, but I know that feeling. You don’t have it.” Max shrugged.

He supposed Alex’s dread was more a manifestation of his own fears than a real worry. Merlin knew Max dreaded his own slow slide into becoming his father, and he was a good man. For him the transformation was nearly complete. He hoped he could turn it around the same way.

[Alecsander]

“You’re not that way, though.” Once again Max broke the silence, taking a sip of his drink without looking at his uncle. “I’ve felt the minds of killers. Of the insane. I may not have known Cedric, but I know that feeling. You don’t have it.” Max shrugged.

Alex's mouth quirked into a crooked smile. He didn't say anything but knew Max would feel his appreciation anyway. He poured himself another drink but left it untasted, instead hefting the book he'd been reading earlier. As he opened it to his previous place he spoke again.

"What happened on your trip?" he wondered if Max had had the time yet to decompress and process it, but doubted it. It had been nearly a week and Max had been going non-stop. Even now he wasn't likely to go and get the rest he so desperately needed. At a lull he spoke again, hands resting on the unread pages.

"I asked Glee to bring food. Just be careful with that book, aye?" Alex indicated the old tome Max had been napping on, a slight smile creasing his lips as he teased.

[Max Kameren]

"What happened on your trip?"

“Argued philosophy with a hundred-year-old woman for a few days, then got kicked out in the cold.” Max smirked, finishing his drink and joining Alex in another. He’d learned more than it sounded like when he discussed it, but like everything with Empathy what he learned was hard to describe. It was easier to demonstrate.

Picked up a few tricks, though. Max imprinted the words into his uncle’s mind, silently speaking directly into his aura. Empathy was so much more than they’d anticipated; if he could ever muster full control, Max’s powers could surpass even Curse’s.

Max raised his hand to draw the book he’d been reading to him, cracking it open in the armchair across from Alex’s as the two read, falling into silence once more. The warmth and quiet left Max in a daze and the words on the page blurred once again. Max hadn’t slept in days and hadn’t eaten anything more than St. Mungo’s food since his return. As much as his heart wanted to push forward, his body was shutting down. His head nodded then snapped a few times before he realized Alex was watching him with an amused smirk.

"I asked Glee to bring food. Just be careful with that book, aye?"

“I will.” Max’s chuckle was cut short by a yawn and he snapped the book closed, running a tired hand through his hair. Perhaps he did need to take a break. He couldn’t absorb information if he was exhausted and starving; he would read a bit longer while he ate whatever Glee brought, then he would steal as many books as he could without drawing Alex’s judgement and head home to Eden, Snitch, and Pumpkin. When he was rested he would renew his search once more: the search for answers in his books, and the search for his missing love in places he thought he might find her. “Thank you.”