Sleeping through life seems like something everyone would want to do. Remus didn’t really understand how the small moments, when looked at in hindsight, were worth anything once lost. As he sat currently alone at St Mungo's, awaiting Mary and her muggle family to pick him up, he really didn’t see much point in anything at all. All he could focus on these days were the physical things. It was all that was reliable. The blue and white of the patient's robes he was dressed in. The metallic gleam and sticky smell of grease that came from his wheelchair, the sandpaper feel of the white bandages that covered his wrists. Physicality was reality. He couldn’t allow himself to believe his mind. The stories he brewed of past and future could only drag him into a state of horrendous yet beautiful pain. This was the line he had teetered day after day, for who wouldn’t want to live in beautiful pain If it meant living alongside the beautiful. Remus wouldn’t. It wasn’t the pain he couldn’t handle. It was the beauty which taunted him. Hollow was all that followed that word. Tainted was all that he saw, smelt and heard.
So, he stuck to things that were real. The grey paint on the walls, the creepy sunflower painting on the wall, the bench that sat outside his charmed shut window. These were reliable things that would not be taken from him. Or at least things he would not mourn.
He relished the feel of voices. The vibrato, the pitch, the vibrations. They assured him.
He was at a point where he didn’t really care what was being said; as long as he could feel it, he knew that it was not him. The traitor who he loved. Remus really wished love could have been past tense, but it was his Sirius. There was no leaving his voice behind.
So, in the bleakness of watching the russet oak bench near the sometimes moving lake, he was generally glad to feel Mary speaking in hushed tones to Gill, his nurse. “So he has to share a room with someone, and he can’t be alone, doors open, and avoid triggering phrases and environments.” he could sense the slight intake of breath. The nurse, not Mary, said, “And don’t forget the full moon, you should take him to the sanctuary for those unless you can build an approved…” a growl he wondered, no a low cough, “setting”.
A few murmurs later, he could feel Mary’s curls kissing his neck as she leaned down to speak to him, “Remus, oh god, Remus, I’m so sorry, it’s time to go.” He wished he were strong enough to not say anything,
“You’re real” was all he said. It was monotonous, barely a sentence strung together. Yet it was enough to cause the salty-smelling tears to run down Mary's cheek.
“Y-yes Lu, I’m real, and I’m bringing you to stay with me and the family. I’m going to be here now, always” She seemed to say this with a sort of withering yet unwavering confidence.
Always , what a ridiculous sentiment. It’s exactly that: a sentiment. Nothing more. The only thing that could assure it was death.
Her words made Remus feel guilty; she had lost them too, and it wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Sirius was a traitor, Pete had paid the price, James and Lily had paid the price, and Marlene, oh Marlene, she hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to Dorcas before she was taken from her. Yet Mary was still strong, and he was stuck, sorting through what he could touch and what he had placed in the box, never to be opened again. At least he knew he and they may be reunited in sleep. It was a dangerous place to wish to be. But when awake, it was too dangerous; asleep meant peaceful and safe. Sirius was his in sleep, and James and Lily were with Harry; sleep was grounding to most, but to Remus, it made him drown.
He had always liked water in his lungs. What a filling sensation it was.
He hadn’t felt full since he was five.
“Let’s go home Marls,”
Mary didn’t even blink at his mistake, she didn’t even try to move his wheelchair for him. It seemed that she knew him better than he had remembered. Another bout of guilt flooded in. How gratifying.
Instead, he stood, threading his packaged, gauzed arms into his sweater. Lily’s sweater, he should say. He looked at the embroidered deer and rat, a wolf and a mauled dog. The mauling was not in the original design.
They apparated back to Mary’s home. His first impression was sweet. The wind licked his cheeks, and the wildflowers brushed by his ankles. The children weren’t so bad either.
Mary chuckled as they ran towards them both, “That one is Marlene” she smiled, then took a sharp breath as she motioned at the curly haired boy, “This one is Lue”.
The boy was carefree, happy and had the most stunningly pure face anyone could imagine, not one scar. The girl, Marls as her brother referred to her, was harsh, sharp lines and as witty as one could be. At least from his limited impression. It was a harsh reality of missing.
“They’re beautiful” he whispered into Mary’s hair as they slowly stumbled towards them. He hadn’t realised how long it had been until he saw the physical proof in Mary’s Kids.
“How old are they then?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound as terrible as he imagined.
“Marls is four and Lue is two and a half, only just old enough to be running around as mad as he is”. A loose chuckle left him at hearing this, god these kids were getting to him already. Maybe it was a good thing, being honest with himself, the reason he had wanted to die was to get back to sound. He hadn’t heard people in a long time.
Though he couldn’t ignore the hollowness which followed him, Remus missed is senses, he felt deaf and blind, with only his hands to guide him. On occasion there were faint taps and sounds, but that was all they were. Faint. He wanted to go home.
“well come on inside then you still have to meet Rob and his brother Anthony, you’ll be rooming with him” she said with a wink as she scooped up Lou and walked towards the farmhouse.
Marlene came up to him, grabbed his hand and all but dragged him towards the home. At this point all he could think of was finding a way to sneak a cigarette without the kids seeing.
“you look like you fight” Little Marls said, “yeh sometimes” he managed, before remembering that is was a child he was speaking to, “Er but that isn’t a good thing to do, I only did it when I had to” She looked up at him with awe, “mum says that I shouldn’t fight”
“Right ye, I’m not the best at parenting advice, but in my experience if you only fight where you really need to then it’ll be ok, as long as you know how to fight though.”
Again the small brown eyes looked up at him, “can you teach me”
“Ah I dunno cherry you’ll have to ask you’re mum”
She scrunched up her nose at the nickname which came so naturally to him. He realised his mistake too late and made to walk faster toward the house. “I like cherries” she smiled as though he had given her a chocolate frog.
They kept walking towards the house, with her hand clasped strongly to his marred one.