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ashinaeAnd he tells himself
It'll be all right
Happiness is just around the corner
And he tells himself
It'll be okay
Happiness is just a life away
-- October Project, "Johnny"
This is the Remus/Sirius bunny that was nibbling at my ankles earlier.
HERE THERE BE BIG FAT SPOILERS! Okay? Okay. Don't read this is you haven't read Order of the Phoenix yet. Got that? I don't want anybody yelling at me for spoiling the book.
A Life Away
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ashinae
Rating: PG for allusions to m/m interaction
Pairing: Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Summary: Remus is grieving.
Disclaimer: They are so not mine.
Note: Big sloppy kisses and thank yous tocruisedirector for her nitpicky beta work.
A Life Away
The bed is too big.
When Remus stayed at the mansion overnight -- over a few nights, if he was lucky -- he was never alone. Sirius was always there. Always, with him, beside him, pressed close to his back, never letting go.
Never letting him go.
His fingers play along the sheets, trace an invisible line over a pillow. It still smells, very faintly, of Sirius.
There's nothing you can do ...
Sirius would come to him. So many times he would come in through the shadows, and his hands and lips and tongue on Remus's skin were capable of a kind of magic that Remus could never put into words. But he knew, without needing words, that Sirius loved him.
... it's too late ...
He closes his eyes, tight, shutting out the room, shutting out the oppressive shadows. But it doesn't matter what he does; everything here reminds him of Sirius. Everyone watches him, silently, their eyes full of understanding and sorrows, and he wants to hate them because if they didn't look at him like that, it would mean that his pain wasn't real.
As he feels the prickling of tears, a lump welling in his throat, Remus rolls onto his back and blinks up at the ceiling he cannot see. He can hear footsteps in the hall outside, that stop outside his door. But then the footsteps are suddenly retreating and he lets out a sigh of relief.
There's nothing you can do, Harry...
Everyone has been treating him carefully, like a small, wounded animal. (Poor thing. So hurt, so damaged. What shall we do with it now?) They always want to know if he needs anything. He needs them to understand that he is not going to be able to cope if they don't stop it. If they don't stop doing everything for him. If, for just a few minutes, they could pretend that life was really going to continue, he could understand that it was.
He is glad that Harry is with the Dursleys for the summer, just for the fact that he has some small inkling of how they might treat him, if Remus has been subjected to their pity, and their tea, and their sad expressions, and even more tea. (Do you want to talk about it, love?)
... nothing... he's gone.
Bless Molly Weasley and her heart, but Remus can't dwell on Sirius right now. Denial is irrational and immature -- logically, he knows that because he has been through this before. The thought has crossed his mind, more than once, that pain and loss must simply be the staple of the times they were living in. He had loved James and Lily as much as anyone else had, but he had not been in love with them.
And he only lost them once.
He can't come back, Harry...
But isn't that exactly what he is doing? Dwelling on what he lost. James, Lily, Sirius. Sirius again. Twice, Sirius was cruelly taken away from him.
Sirius is dead.
Strange, how hollow it sounds in his own mind. Saying those words. Very final, no turning back.
Dead.
Which is probably why he hasn't said it. He doesn't want that finality. He doesn't want to know that never again will he share Sirius's life, his pain, his joy, his bed. He doesn't want only to share his memory. He doesn't want them to understand, because they do, the whole bloody lot of them, understanding and sharing his grief, and not leaving him alone.
Angrily Remus sits up, pressing the heels of his hands tight against his eyes, until he sees stars. He will not cry anymore. Surely he's spent his tears by now.
With a deep breath, he gets up from the bed. Puts on a night robe, tentatively opens the door, and peers into the hall. It is brighter here, than in his room -- which only makes sense, as it is not late -- and he quietly wanders through the hallways. He hears laughter as he moves closer to the kitchen. He pauses, just inside the doorway, and watches. It takes a moment for them to realise he's there, and then Molly looks up and smiles at him.
"Would you like some tea, Remus?" she asks.
He nods slowly, "Please. Thank you."
By the time anyone trusts him enough again to wander away from the nest, he is certain he is going to hate tea with a passion. Or at least he would like to. He wants to hate Dumbledore, for leaving the Weasleys in charge of babysitting him. As though he would do something foolish. (Such as lying in bed all day.) What a silly idea.
Molly puts the cup on the table in front of him. She pats his shoulder, then goes back to the counter. And, silently, Ginny reaches over and squeezes Remus's hand. He looks up at her, but she doesn't say anything, takes her hand away, and returns to her dessert.
"We saved you some supper," Ron says. "If you want any."
Remus almost manages a response. A valiant effort, really. But he can't stop the tears from falling down his face -- now, now of all times! -- and he quickly gets up to flee.
They won't let him.
---
It'll be all right
Happiness is just around the corner
And he tells himself
It'll be okay
Happiness is just a life away
-- October Project, "Johnny"
This is the Remus/Sirius bunny that was nibbling at my ankles earlier.
HERE THERE BE BIG FAT SPOILERS! Okay? Okay. Don't read this is you haven't read Order of the Phoenix yet. Got that? I don't want anybody yelling at me for spoiling the book.
A Life Away
Author:
ashinaeRating: PG for allusions to m/m interaction
Pairing: Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Summary: Remus is grieving.
Disclaimer: They are so not mine.
Note: Big sloppy kisses and thank yous to
cruisedirector for her nitpicky beta work. The bed is too big.
When Remus stayed at the mansion overnight -- over a few nights, if he was lucky -- he was never alone. Sirius was always there. Always, with him, beside him, pressed close to his back, never letting go.
Never letting him go.
His fingers play along the sheets, trace an invisible line over a pillow. It still smells, very faintly, of Sirius.
There's nothing you can do ...
Sirius would come to him. So many times he would come in through the shadows, and his hands and lips and tongue on Remus's skin were capable of a kind of magic that Remus could never put into words. But he knew, without needing words, that Sirius loved him.
... it's too late ...
He closes his eyes, tight, shutting out the room, shutting out the oppressive shadows. But it doesn't matter what he does; everything here reminds him of Sirius. Everyone watches him, silently, their eyes full of understanding and sorrows, and he wants to hate them because if they didn't look at him like that, it would mean that his pain wasn't real.
As he feels the prickling of tears, a lump welling in his throat, Remus rolls onto his back and blinks up at the ceiling he cannot see. He can hear footsteps in the hall outside, that stop outside his door. But then the footsteps are suddenly retreating and he lets out a sigh of relief.
There's nothing you can do, Harry...
Everyone has been treating him carefully, like a small, wounded animal. (Poor thing. So hurt, so damaged. What shall we do with it now?) They always want to know if he needs anything. He needs them to understand that he is not going to be able to cope if they don't stop it. If they don't stop doing everything for him. If, for just a few minutes, they could pretend that life was really going to continue, he could understand that it was.
He is glad that Harry is with the Dursleys for the summer, just for the fact that he has some small inkling of how they might treat him, if Remus has been subjected to their pity, and their tea, and their sad expressions, and even more tea. (Do you want to talk about it, love?)
... nothing... he's gone.
Bless Molly Weasley and her heart, but Remus can't dwell on Sirius right now. Denial is irrational and immature -- logically, he knows that because he has been through this before. The thought has crossed his mind, more than once, that pain and loss must simply be the staple of the times they were living in. He had loved James and Lily as much as anyone else had, but he had not been in love with them.
And he only lost them once.
He can't come back, Harry...
But isn't that exactly what he is doing? Dwelling on what he lost. James, Lily, Sirius. Sirius again. Twice, Sirius was cruelly taken away from him.
Sirius is dead.
Strange, how hollow it sounds in his own mind. Saying those words. Very final, no turning back.
Dead.
Which is probably why he hasn't said it. He doesn't want that finality. He doesn't want to know that never again will he share Sirius's life, his pain, his joy, his bed. He doesn't want only to share his memory. He doesn't want them to understand, because they do, the whole bloody lot of them, understanding and sharing his grief, and not leaving him alone.
Angrily Remus sits up, pressing the heels of his hands tight against his eyes, until he sees stars. He will not cry anymore. Surely he's spent his tears by now.
With a deep breath, he gets up from the bed. Puts on a night robe, tentatively opens the door, and peers into the hall. It is brighter here, than in his room -- which only makes sense, as it is not late -- and he quietly wanders through the hallways. He hears laughter as he moves closer to the kitchen. He pauses, just inside the doorway, and watches. It takes a moment for them to realise he's there, and then Molly looks up and smiles at him.
"Would you like some tea, Remus?" she asks.
He nods slowly, "Please. Thank you."
By the time anyone trusts him enough again to wander away from the nest, he is certain he is going to hate tea with a passion. Or at least he would like to. He wants to hate Dumbledore, for leaving the Weasleys in charge of babysitting him. As though he would do something foolish. (Such as lying in bed all day.) What a silly idea.
Molly puts the cup on the table in front of him. She pats his shoulder, then goes back to the counter. And, silently, Ginny reaches over and squeezes Remus's hand. He looks up at her, but she doesn't say anything, takes her hand away, and returns to her dessert.
"We saved you some supper," Ron says. "If you want any."
Remus almost manages a response. A valiant effort, really. But he can't stop the tears from falling down his face -- now, now of all times! -- and he quickly gets up to flee.
They won't let him.
---
