WHERE THE RAIN NEVER FALLS AND THE SUN NEVER SHINES

IT'S AS DARK AS A DUNgEON WAY DOWN IN THE MINE.
@fernando

The first day had been the worst. The back breaking work was new to Jesse and, although he was a tough lad, it took a great toll on him. Over weeks and now months of mining the aches and pains it provided was just a gentle reminder that he was alive, and life sucked. The way the purebloods made it sound he should be grateful to be working in that deep, black hole in the earth. In a way, he was. He could have been street sweeper, a nanny, Lord knows what else. At least mining kept him in top physical condition...in case he ever needed the fight his way out of this muggelborn hell.

Jesse walked to the mines entrance, taking one last long drag from his cigarette before tossing it under his boot. He snuffed it out, exhaling a cloud with an audible sigh. He wasn't ready to do this again, it seemed like he never left the damn place, but there wasn't really a choice was there? No, it wasn't up to him. His life wasn't up to him anymore. The thought of it drained him. He walked dully into the mines, finding his dented up locker he began slipping into his work coveralls.

"The boss is in today," the man next to him said casually, snapping up his own uniform. Jesse scrunched his face. It hadn't really occurred to him that someone owned these mines, that he was working for someone- not just placed here to do bullshit work by the Ministry.

"Someone owns this place?" Jesse stepped into his uniform and shimmied it up his body. He chuckled to himself before turning to his co-worker, "Must be nice to be so privileged you own a hole in the ground and all the dumb shits like us who work in it."

outfit

Fernando...wasn't quite sure how he had gotten here. Everything after Cassian left - gods have mercy, he had left, because he could not trust Fernando, because no matter how much he had tried, he could not look past his Dark Mark and Fer could scarcely blame him considering what had happened - was hazy, blurred by numbness and then tears - he didn't remember the last time he had cried and yet his pillow had been drenched when he rose his head from it - and then alcohol. Cassian - who was a werewolf, who left Fernando because Fer was a danger, who would never again come back, who he loved - had left and with him any shred of sanity Fer might have left and nothing he had planned and tried and expected was of any use right now. It would have been funny, if it wasn't entirely painful, that he couldn't even find it in himself to do anything but accept the situation. He'd not fight. He would not go after Cassian, assure him he meant no harm, beg him to please come back and bring Fernando back his heart. Instead, he had sat by the window of his room and drank a whole bottle of whisky by the time Theo had come into the room and taken him away.

He wasn't quite sure who had called him - likely Leela, really, since Ampi was not fond of him, Pansy hadn't been home and Juan was absolutely forbidden to contact Theodore in any capacity - but he was pathetically grateful for it. Fer was too tired to feel ashamed at how he had clung to Theo, how he had allowed himself to be taken away and washed and laid in bed - watched over as if he were a child again. Having little patience as he had for tears, Theo had wiped them away and held Fer to his arms, his words of consolation dripping with with 'I told you so' and 'This wouldn't have happened if you had been mine'. It would have grated and irritated him any other time but it meant Theo cared, that he wouldn't leave, not like all others left and he'd take the reprimands and the too tight hands over feeling alone any day. He didn't remember most of the night, after he had been moved to Stygian Hall, and the morning had been full of different pains and a blinding headache. Theo had been there, too, kissing him sweetly - to which Fer couldn't have found it in himself to respond, his stomach lurched, it wasn't Cassian but it would never be again - and handing him potions and water and food. He had drank the water and the potions but refused to food, fighting the urge to vomit. Smiling, as if pleased, Theo laid down clothes for him, informing him that his assistant had arranged for him to visit the gold mine he owned in Northern Ireland and that, being who he was, Fer could not wallow in his misery because of some common born imbecile that did not deserve him.

The clothes hadn't been his, not all of them. All smelt sharp, like Theo's preferred cologne and Fer knew it was his petty way of claiming what he believed to be his. Fer couldn't bring himself to protest. He had dressed mechanically and taken a portkey to the mine, not trusting himself with Apparition. The cold air that greeted him should have revitalised him but, in the end, it just made Fer more tired. The overseer almost fell over himself to attend to Fer, showing him around, giving him figures and names that he couldn't bring himself to pay attention. His head was full of cotton, heart too slow, limbs too sluggish, stomach unsettled. They walked and walked until they came into a dressing room of sorts, with men changing into working clothes. The overseer said something and that snapped Fer from his haze. His eyes - and gods, he must look dreadful - ran over the room, stopping on a few people with a frown. "Good morrow, gentlemen," Fer winced when his voice came out broken and harsh. Had he screamed? When? When Cass left? When Theo took him? Did it matter? He turned to the overseer. "Are all of them of age? They do not look it."

WHERE THE RAIN NEVER FALLS AND THE SUN NEVER SHINES

IT'S AS DARK AS A DUNGEON WAY DOWN IN THE MINE.

"Good morning, sir." Jesse sounded off with the others in unison as they all continued to dress. It wasn't like Jesse to obey authority, growing up in the foster care system he found that his respect wasn't easily given, and not easily earned. Once he started in the mines the foreman made sure that he knew just who ran the place. Yes, sir. No, sir. Thank you, sir. Like some sort of underground boot camp. He hadn't been, and still wasn't, sure if it was a power struggle thing or if the man had been preparing him for a life of servitude. No matter the answer, Jesse begrudgingly gave in and adopted the sayings to appease the boss man.

Jesse buttoned up the top of his coveralls all the while listening in to the owner's remarks. Of age? Jesse turned, with curiosity, to see if the others looked older than himself. Surely he wasn't the only young buck in this pack? It seemed that today he was. "Um," He interjected, "I'm not quite of age, but the Ministry placed me here so..." 

As much as he hated the mines he hoped that his age wouldn't be a problem for the owner. Hell, he just realized he didn't even know what 'of age' meant. In the muggle world it meant eighteen, but in the wizarding world? Who knew. Sure, he had been practicing magic, been to Hogwarts, but in the grand scheme of things he was very naive. They had a different way of doing things and he had never lived in this world until recently. Being a registered muggleborn had allowed him to live among the purebloods and halfbloods as they went about their regular lives- but his wasn't like theirs. He was the scum of the earth, and every death eater he saw reminded him of that.

Focusing on something else was good. Compartmentalising had always been a rather handy ability of Fernando's, really, and he should put it to use now. Thing was, he didn't want to forget the pain. Because it meant that he had to forget Cassian, had to ignore what good moments they've had together, even if it ended up tragically- no, no, it was worth it. He had known, hadn't he? That he'd end up like this, broken and alone and mourning something that was never his to begin with. He'd have to deal with it, for he was getting what he had signed up for. Since forgetting was not an option, he just had to distract himself during the day, hold himself together, and he could fall apart when he was alone. No one would see it, it wouldn't be an issue. He could do this, weather the day and pretend nothing was wrong. Because, as far as anyone other than himself was concerned, nothing was. The world would keep on turning, people would keep living and dying, there would be still things to be done. He'd have to do some of them. It was fine. He'd be fine - for a few hours.

The resonating good morning chorus would have been quite amusing, if Fer could have found it in himself to find humour in anything at all today. At the very least the overseer had them well trained and that was all Fer cared about. He wasn't needlessly cruel, not truly, and the way he ran his mines showed. This one was...an experiment, of sorts, since all of the workers were mudbloods. He had not seen fit to change the charter on how they ought to be treated, which meant they were subjected to the same rules as any other employee and would receive the same rewards - sans the actual pay of the job. He gave them all a faint smile and a nod of his head, making note to speak to the overseer afterwards that this should keep. They did not look malnourished or mistreated and, well. They might have been beneath proper wizards and witches but, as long as they were out of the way, Fer would not make their lives cruel out of spite. Those who minded their place would not need to fear their treatment in his holdings.

Quirking an eyebrow as one of the young looking ones spoke instead of the overseer, Fer listened to his words with an impassive face. Raising a hand to stop the overseer from speaking - or worse, punishing the boy for honesty -, he nodded. "Brought over from Hogwarts, were you?" there was a faint note of distaste in his voice. Whatever their blood, they were children. Could not be allowed to be with the others, of course not, but alternate arrangements should have been made for them. To continue their schooling at the very least. "Well, safety guidelines that I've personally implemented mean that you are not in any overt danger but, really. A child," sighing, Fernando looked him over. Handsome, strong. Young. He could not even muster the inappropriate commentary he would have made in this situation. Seemed that even his sense of humour was shot to hell. "The Ministry...was in a bit of a tizzy when job assignments were made, at first. Mistakes were made"

WHERE THE RAIN NEVER FALLS AND THE SUN NEVER SHINES

IT'S AS DARK AS A DUNGEON WAY DOWN IN THE MINE.

The foreman and Jesse had come to...an agreement, one could say. The agreement was that if Jesse did his work, shut his mouth and kept his head down he wouldn't be harmed. His smart mouth, however, had made the bargaining of such an agreement quite difficult. Especially since the overseer was not willing to budge on his terms, and try as Jesse might to interject his own he was met with resistance. As if the work itself wasn't enough to break him, the foreman had made it his mission to break his spirit as well. It hadn't been an easy task, and at times Jesse made it known that though he may appear tame there was still a sliver of wildness in him. Nothing would rid him of that, no matter how many beatings he had to take or curses he had to endure.

Jesse was no fool though, he was smart enough to know to quit while he was ahead. It had taken a few weeks and a few beatings before he had finally given in to the foreman's demands. The beatings were not always physical, though quite a bit of them were, there were many times he was given the most difficult grunt work as a means of teaching him his lessons. He had done them without complaint, carrying loads of rock as well as his pride and head held high. It had been a long road to the relationship they had now. This strange respect they had for one another didn't come overnight, yet in the presence of the owner their arrangement became null.

The overseer had a look that Jesse knew as being threatening as he spoke out of turn to the owner, and he was thankful that the man had stopped him from whatever he was planning on doing to Jesse. He knew that he would likely pay for his mistake later. The man questioned Jesse in the same tone that all purebloods seemed to take with him, that hint of disdain. Or in this case distaste. Jesse nodded, though the question seemed rhetorical. The foreman eyed his harshly and he knew that if he wanted to get back in his good graces it needed to start now. "Yes, sir." Ugh, it was bitter in his mouth. Oh how he hated to speak to these death eaters with any sort of respectful tone.

The owner spoke of safety guidelines and it took everything in Jesse's body to hold back a sarcastic remark. This man clearly wasn't aware of the dangers these muggleborns faced. Sure, there were likely guidelines, but the implementation was minimal at best. It seemed as though men were getting hurt regularly, not that anyone cared about the safety of the muggleborns who worked there. More often than not they received simple bandaging on the fly and returned to work right after. He himself still held the bandage from an incident earlier in the week, one that had sent him to Saint Mungo's for stitching.

Truthfully, he was not bitter about the incident. He would have been had it not been for the fact that he had seen Truly at the hospital that day. He had missed his dear friend, but the loneliness of his circumstances had made him all forget about his days at Hogwarts. It had all seemed like a fuzzy dream to him now, like something he imagined had happened but really had not. Seeing Truly had reminded him that it had been real after all, and for that he was grateful to have been injured. Strange as that may sound. Jesse dared not say anything to bring the incident up now. Surely the foreman had not been keeping accurate notes on the injuries that happened under his watch, and Jesse was not going to expose him now. 

The man spoke of the Ministry's mistakes and Jesse felt a twinge of panic at the words. Was he going to lose his job? Was the man here to fire him? Recycle him to some other shit job? Jesse though of his conversation the other night with Faith, how she spoke of people spitting on her while she cleaned streets. He did not want that, in fact he found that he did not want any other job. If he was going to be given shit work, this was the shit he wanted to be doing. "I'll be eighteen soon," Jesse half lied. His birthday wasn't until August, but in the grand scheme of things that was soon...right? "And I don't mind hard work, sir. I pull good numbers," Jesse added, looking quickly to the foreman for help. That part hadn't been a lie, he actually did very well for himself as far as the work went. He worked harder than most and frequently mined more magical gems than many of his cohorts.

So, Fer liked children. It was a thing, a horrible thing if you considered who and what he was. Completely uninterested in women of any sort and a Death Eater, he was likely doomed to be forever frustrated in this particular venture. And he also ended up with a lot of nightmares about the sort of things that happened to children that had the unfortunate luck of meeting the likes of Greyback and loose cannons like Rabastan Lestrange. It was the job, or so people told him, so Fer tried his best to push that part of him far down - even if he refused to harm children, no matter what sort. It didn't actually factor much in his life as of late - or in the past decade - because there were so many other horrible things going on that his protective instance towards kids was buried under the mountain of worries and hurts and he didn't even have time to think of it. Just as well, truly. Because otherwise he ended up thinking things and, with Cassian gone, the stupidity of such thoughts, such plans, was clearer than ever. Fer had...he had Juan to watch over, he had Jason - who depended solely on him for everything and wasn't that fucking terrifying and heartbreaking? - and gods willing his sister would spawn Genevieve's brother a couple of squalling infants she'd love to complain about. Everything would be fine, since he never made stupid plans that wouldn't ever come to pass anyway because why would someone even want to stay with Fernando, much less have a fami-

Case in point, he was not happy that someone sent a child to this place, even a mudblood one. Turning to the overseer at the tone of the lad - who was clearly only kept in check because of the almost physical glowers of the wizard in charge, Fer smiled. It was a nice one. "You're dismissed. Permanently." The man spluttered and tried to argue but with a tilt of his head, the previously glamoured guards stepped forward to drag him out. Like Fernando was dumb enough to come down to an enclosed place full of people that hated him alone. Wandless as they were, they far outnumbered him and desperate people were capable of everything. Now they'd be wondering how many other guards were hidden away by spells, just waiting for the slightest hint of stupidity. Fer would have enjoyed keeping them guessing, if he could enjoy anything. As it was, he was just glad that things were in such an awful state that it would keep him busy for the foreseeable future. Gods above, he'd have to review every single mine. Was it too hard to have trustworthy people, these days? "Send for Mr. Falsworth, will you? He's just been promoted, congratulations." Turning back to the assembly, he saw fear and trepidation on their gaze, likely wondering if this would be good for them or not. Falsworth at least would follow the charter to the letter, if not be particularly kind. But then again, Fer wasn't running a charity centre here.

Attention back on the lad, Fer let his lips quirk up on a humourless smirk. "How soon is that? Six months? A year? You're a child, lad," the hint of desperation he could hear in the boy's tone worsened his headache. What kind of jobs were they giving school children that being in the mine - when it was poorly ran, at that - was the best option around? Fer needed to have words with his sister. Urgent ones. As soon as he didn't look like death warmed over, of course. As soon as he could go more than a few hours without falling apart horribly. "I'm sure you do. You look strong, competent. Bet you played quidditch in school," pinching the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes for a long moment. "The rest of you, dismissed," oh, the rumours that would spawn from this. Lord Parkinson, with his known proclivities, taking an interest in the handsome, strong lad. Hah, if they only knew he was more of the parenting type. His reputation - awful as it was - would be in tatters. When the room was cleared and the other employees responsible for the smooth running of the mine and for keeping the workers in line were back at their job, Fer opened his eyes and looked at the boy. "Tell me, what are your other skills? Maths, organisation? Tap dancing?"

WHERE THE RAIN NEVER FALLS AND THE SUN NEVER SHINES

IT'S AS DARK AS A DUNGEON WAY DOWN IN THE MINE.

It was sort of strange, being referred to as a child. By all rights he was one, he supposed. Jesse was only seventeen years old which made him a minor in most parts of the world. But a child? He didn't really feel like a child. In fact, he couldn't recall the last time he had felt that way at all. Life had never been easy for him even before the registration had taken place. His childhood had been spent in questionable neighborhoods, in houses that saw him as a paycheck. The families he had growing up hadn't cared about him or his safety or his happiness, and now things were no different. The ministry didn't care either. In fact, they cared more about making sure he wasn't safe. Every night that he walked home from the mines was another chance for a death eater to take their shot at him, and some had. The guards at Kolna definitely had. But Jesse was resilient and stubborn. He would take his beatings and curses stern faced as he could manage and go about his way.

In his younger years he might have even smiled, but he was not stupid. He knew that such things would only result in further beatings. If he had the chance to fight back he might have smiled just to instigate a fight, but he had no chance. Not anymore. Not since they took his wand. It wasn't like the muggle world, where all he needed were the two fists at the end of his arms. No, he needed magic to face these people. For most of them magic was all they ever knew and they could spit curses much quicker than he could throw a punch. He still liked to dream about the day when his patience finally ran out. All the way out. He liked to think of punching one Kolna guard, specifically. Jesse imagined being able to grab the blokes wand, snap it right before his very eyes and wipe the smug fucking smirk right off his face. But it was simply a dream, and would likely never reach reality.

Jesse was a fighter, through and through. Born and bread. It's what he was, and would always be. The foreman had known this and it had been why Jesse had managed to earn any respect from the man at all. All of that work, all of the beatings he had taken with gritted teeth, vanished in an instant. Fernando had dismissed him as if it were nothing and Jesse couldn't help but look on somewhat startled. The foreman tried to argue his case, but it was too late. Another man was already instituted in his place. The room fell quiet and he could feel the weight of uncertainty among his cohorts. Jesse wasn't the only one who had taken beatings, most had taken them and quickly learned their place and now? Now they had a new overseer. Just. Like. That. He hoped like hell that he wouldn't be returning back to square one. He wasn't sure if he could take it, really.

"Six months, sir." Jesse held his gaze on the man as he studied him. He didn't look well, but his voice still held the authority that his body didn't look as though it could carry out. Jesse wasn't sure what to think of him. More so, he wasn't sure whether or not he should be worried. In truth, he knew that he aught to be worried about anyone who could still do magic, but he was a lion at heart. Gryffindor bravery was both a blessing and a curse. So much so that he had almost had the nerve to scoff as the bloke mentioned quidditch. Why the hell did everyone think he played quidditch? It was comical and also sort of strange. Most of the people he knew who played were women.... What was it about him that made them think he too was a player? Jesse held back his scoff, and any comment. He left it, believing it was meant to be as rhetorical as it had sounded.

The man dismissed the others around him and Jesse could feel the worry start to come. This was not good. This was never good. Not for him. Not for his loud ass mouth. His coworkers began to file out and he found himself shifting uncomfortably as he stood in waiting. Jesse folded his arms against his chest and found himself looking to the ground trying to ignore the last few gazes as he was left alone with the man. Fernando finally looked at him, asking him a question which threw him into a bit of confusion. Other skills? Was he supposed to answer truthfully? Or should be simply say 'mining'? He hoped like hell this wasn't going to be brought up for a job reassignment. He didn't want to think of what sort of hell that would cause for him.

"I'm a pretty good dancer but tap ain't my style," he sort of blurted with an uncomfortable laugh. He straightened himself out a bit, unwrapping his arms and putting his hands behind his back. "I suppose I'm good at organization. Maths, I'm alright at. If we're speaking honestly, sir, all I'm good for is physical labor. All my skills went out the window when my wand was revoked." Again! If only he would learn to Shut. His. Mouth! He wished like hell someone would help him install a filter on his damn mouth. Why did he always have to say more than he wanted?

Thinking positively, at least Cassian finally getting tired of Fernando and leaving as he was always going to do was good for something. Fer would finally stop procrastinating his work to spend just another hour in the other man's arms. Of course, he'd have preferred that more pleasurable past time but he no longer ha d a choice. Cassian walked away, afraid of Fernando because Fer never gave him cause to trust that he wouldn't hurt him, that he'd never allow anyone to do so either. In the end, the man he loved, the only one he's ever loved, walked away and Fernando- he kept breathing, if barely. He'd keep living, one day after the other, and maybe one day this wouldn't hurt as much. Maybe, just maybe, one day Cassian would forgive him and come back and- No, no, he needed to stop with those silly fantasies because they only hurt him more. He was alone now, he'd always be alone and that was okay. It wasn't like he deserved anything else, it wasn't as if men like him got to be happy and in love without something tragic happening. At least Cassian was alive. At least he was safe. Fernando felt like he himself might die but none of that was important as long as Cass was alright. And...and if he thought it best to be away from Fernando, then he'd accept his choice. He'd not go after him, would allow hm o leave without any sort of pathetic clinging because, in the end, if there was one thing that Fer was good at, it was letting go. And it hurt, oh gods it hurt, but he'd live. Maybe. Right now, it didn't feel like he had a reason for it anymore and he was sure that the passing days wouldn't offer anything better. It would be a downward spiral from now on and he only hoped he'd be able to leave his things in order, to arrange someone to care for Jason and Juan, when he inevitably-

The lad was speaking and Fer had to pay attention. Right. Like Theodore had said, the world didn't stop just because he'd had a personal tragedy. And, as far as his friend was concerned, this was a good thing. What happened. He thought Fer deserved better, that Cassian wasn't good enough. Fer knew differently, though, just as he knew that most of Theo's dislike came from the fact that Fer had stopped going to him after Cass. He didn't like to lose, Theodore, and he'd always believed Fer to be his and he didn't know how to share either. Fer...was too tired to correct him, to tell him that just because he let Theo do as he wished last night, it didn't mean anything. His heart was already stolen and there was no taking back. If he wanted leftovers, then he was welcome to it, but Fer didn't think he'd be able to be anything but there. He wasn't going to respond, wouldn't do anything but lie here and pretend he was elsewhere. Pretend that Theodore was someone else. knowing him, his friend would take a lot of offence to that, if he ever found out. But he was also so self absorbed and so narcissistic that Fernando didn't think it would pass through his head that Fer could want anything but him.

"Six months, gods," he rubbed his face, hard, already knowing there was no walking away from this. Not now that he knew, he couldn't. Because someone sent a child to work in his mine and Fer wasn't going to be responsible for the lad's death. Not like this. He couldn't let this happen because it would weight on his conscience forever. By the gods, he was Juan's age! The thought of his little cousin being forced to do such things made his already fragile stomach turn. "At this point, let's pray that you being sent here was a registering mistake and not someone trying to kill you."

Fer barked a laugh, startled. Oh, he didn't know he could laugh still. Good to know. "Well, that's nice. I was never a fan of tap dancing anyway, not that I'll ask you to dance at all. You aren't my type," too young, not Cassian. Two facts that were as dissimilar to one another as they could and yet so very true. Right now, Fer could say that he didn't even have a type. He just wanted Cass. And he would never again have him. Lifting an eyebrow at the words, Fer leaned against the rough wall, not caring about his clothes. "Is that so. I'm sure you're underplaying yourself. My sister is what you muggles would call The Wicked Witch of the West and her most terrifying skills have nothing to do with magic," it's true. Pansy's most dangerous weapon was that beautiful brain of hers. "Thing is, lad. I can't allow you to continue risking yourself in the mine when you're a bloody child. So, skills. Something useful for the officer upstairs. Chop chop, impress me."

tags: @ jesse

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