October 29th-31st, 2008
October 29th, 2008 7:42 AM
There's a light shining in his eyes. Blinding him. A sickly yellow colour that draws bugs and girls alike. A streetlamp just like the one near the Macdonald house. In fact, he was quite sure that's where they were, the Macdonald house. Yes- there's the music from the party and he can feel the wind from that cold night.
Looking down he can see Peter staring right back at him, all wide-eyed and teary. Begging. Pleading . The knife in his hand is solid and comforting, and when it plunges into Peter’s neck, the cut is clean.
Its flashes of yellow light and blood after that, the knife going in and out over, and over, and over, and over. Eventually, Peter doesn't make sounds. Eventually, the music gets louder– except… Except the party had been over by the time Remus got there. The music had been turned off long before Peter had made it back into the house. The knife in his hand suddenly feels foreign, because Peter wasn't stabbed to death, no Remus had used an axe.
He wakes up frozen. Paralysed, and half expecting Peter to be standing over him (maybe in the mask, maybe not. Both haunt his dreams.). It takes him a moment to register where he is, his eyes drifting around the dim room.
Boarding school took a lot of getting used to.
Hell even when he wasn't dreaming about murdering his ex-best friend he still woke up confused half the time, still expecting to be in his bedroom at home even after nearly a year.
It's not that boarding school is bad or anything–It's actually really great. The education is top-tier, the grounds are beautiful, the dorms are spacious, and the cooks really are incredible. it isn't even exceedingly lonely, he’s made a few friends here and there (of course after making sure they weren't revenge-seeking psychos.). It's all just different from what he was used to before. The loud laughter of James and Sirius, the grounding hugs from Lily, the great advice from Mary, and the comforting silences of Dorcas and Marlene. Compared to what he had, boarding school is far too quiet.
“Alright, Lupin?”
Remus wiped a hand over his eyes, riding himself from the last strings of sleep, sighing as he looked over to where his roommate sat at the little desk by the window, writing something down on scattered papers.
“Fine, Gideon.” Remus yawned, “Where's Fabian?”
“Noooo fucking clue.” Gideon said, turning back to his papers, “Was downstairs I think? Went to talk to uhm... Rabastan I think?”
“Why would he do that to himself?”
Gideon chuckled, “He has some fireworks that I am dying for. Fab’s trying to convince him to hand them over.” Gideon swivelled his head to look at Remus for a moment, “Oh, I think you missed a call by the way, don't know if it was your mates or your dad though. Pandora said they called for you.”
“Alright, thanks,” Remus said, kicking away his blankets and climbing out of bed. The best part of the dorm, in his humble opinion, was the attached bathroom. Listen, he has his reasons. When he first chose to go to boarding school the idea of sharing a bathroom with a hundred other teenage boys was the least appealing thing about it–safe to say he was relieved (and thoroughly impressed with this school's fucking budget) that each room had their own private bathroom.
He quickly brushes his teeth, avoiding his own eye in the mirror. It's a work in progress, learning to look at himself and see… well, himself. Like some sort of imposter syndrome or something, he's sure it has a name. It's just that when he does look in the mirror he sees a lot of things, most he doesn't like. He sees his father reflected in his tan skin, his mother reflected in his freckles, and Peter in the scars on both his face and chest. He sees Peter in a lot of himself. He sees Peter in pretty much everything–but he especially sees him in the mirror. Remus can still see the manic stare Peter had, the one knew he also had. One he isn't sure he ever got rid of.
It's hard to look in the mirror. Remus does his best not to these days.
Leaving his dorm room with little more than a quick yell to Gideon, Remus makes his way down the common area, nodding to the people he knows. There’s a little space near the linen closet that’s tucked away from the main common space, just big enough to not feel claustrophobic, with a few phones on the wall and a small sad-looking table with a few rickety chairs. Remus had spent a lot of time down here, especially during the first few months, waiting on those timed phone calls that couldn't really make up for the real thing.
He takes one of the phones off the hook, not bothering to look at the ‘missed call sheet’ as he dials a number he knows by heart. Its Friday. He always calls on Fridays.
“Hello?”
“Still miss me?”
“You wish.” Sirius laughs down the line, and Remus smiles.
“Did you call earlier?” Remus asks as he leans into the wall, he left his cane up in his dorm and the cold is hell on his leg.
“Nope,” Sirius says, popping the ‘p’, “Must of been your other boyfriend.”
“You think you're funny.”
“I know I'm funny.” Remus rolls his eyes, “But I'm serious about your other boyfriend, who was it again?”
Remus closed his eyes tightly, this little fucker, “...I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Oh but I think you do, Moony.” Sirius hums, “Robert Pattison was it? Yeah , I think so.”
“Oh, you fucking wish you were the twilight guy.”
Sirius gasps, offended, “Are you saying I'm not a hot sparkly vampire?”
“I'm saying you're delusional.”
“Wow. You're a dick.” Sirius tuts, Remus can basically see him shaking his head, “You don't deserve your movie.”
Yeah, that was another development from the whole murder spree thing. Turns out people got really invested in their case especially after some prick shared the footage of Rita's final stream. That had been a pain for her parents to get it taken down. Remus thought that had been the end of it, that all the chats would die down and people would stop mailing his dad creepy shit until one day they got a letter in the mail basically explaining a movie was being made in their ‘likeness’, whatever the fuck that had meant. It had been months of fighting with the directors and studios just for them to say there wasn't enough ‘evidence’ to tie the murders in Canvey to the ones being written into the movie. So, yeah. Remus has a movie. About his dead friends. Whoopie.
“I don't want it, please do take it.”
“Me and James are thinking about going to see it,” Sirius admits, “Just to see what they got wrong.”
“You're not worried at all?”
“About what?”
Remus was quiet for a moment, thinking of the right thing to say, “Memories. I mean… We watched him almost kill James, it's ok if that fucks someone up a bit.” He doesn't say how it fucked him up.
“I know that,” Sirius sighs, “We can always leave the theatre.”
It was safe to say that the both of them didn't like to share the trauma they had actually gotten from the night. They both talked about the others, of course, had talked each other through the panic attacks and nightmares, had held onto each other when the weight finally broke them down.
Sirius was always a bit… worse with it, though. The sharing part. In the quiet solitude of Remus’ bedroom one night he admitted that he almost felt like he wasn't allowed to be affected by that night. When he thought Peter had died he made jokes, numb from the feeling. He hadn't been very close with Emmeline, not like the others who grieved her loss. He didn't take anyone's life, nor was he hunted down–so why the hell should he be hurt by it, when so many others had better reasons? Why should he have nightmares and why should he be paralyzed by fear when he didn't have more than a few scars from the ordeal?
Sirius was the only one who thought he shouldn't be allowed to be affected by it, and Remus was quick to tell him that, he’s not sure if Sirius ever believed him though.
“You’ll tell me if it's bad?” Remus asked.
“Yeah, of course.” Sirius said, “It's gonna be alright, though. Maybe no one wants to see it and it’ll be the biggest flop since Evan Almighty.”
“Maybe.” Remus chuckled, “Alright I’ve got to go. I promised Amelia I would help her plan something for Halloween.”
“You’re celebrating then?” Sirius asks, and Remus can hear the question lying beneath it.
“I am.” Remus said carefully, “Nothing.. big. Holidays already got enough around it. Probably just going to drink a bit of stolen booze with ten other people in an empty common room.”
“Wow. Boarding school sounds riveting.”
“A true bash.” Remus said, “You guys doing anything?”
“Eh, a repeat of the first bit of last year.” Sirius says, sounding as if he was trying to make a bit of a joke, “Sit in the Potter’s basement and watch movies off of Lily's computer. Marls and Dorcas are coming over too. Mary said she’d call us at one point.”
“Sounds fun.”
“It will be.” Sirius says, “I guess I should let you go see Anna.”
“Amelia.”
“Same thing.”
“Jealous.” Remus chastises, “I’ll miss you guys, tell them I said hi.”
“We miss you too, have fun.”
“I will.” Remus closes his eyes, and for a moment he can almost pretend he's home, “I love you.”
Sirius laughs warmly, “Love you more.”
The phone clicked as he placed it back in its place on the wall. Without SIrius’ voice, the room was too quiet. Too bland. He didn't want to be in it at all and made a move to leave, trying to think of where the hell Amelia would be hanging around, but in a far too clique way, the phone rang.
He picked it back up without thinking, having fought away the habit of flinching at every ring-like sound, and brought the receiver up to his mouth.
“Hello?”
“ Hello, Remus .” a distorted voice crooned.
If this were a movie, this would be the part where the theme song starts to play.
*
October 29th, 2008 8:20 AM
“Are you sure, Remus?” Moody's voice asks down the line, “Are you sure it was.. real?”
Remus scoffs, “Don't patronize me, yes I'm fucking sure.”
The second he heard the voice again Remus physically felt something shatter. As if everything he had spent months repairing had cracked and fallen all over again. Whatever sense of safety he had was gone, because they knew . They knew Remus was at boarding school, they knew he was at the phones. They knew where he was.
He had left the phones quickly, walking in a haze back to his dorm and subsequently locking himself in the bathroom until his breathing returned to normal. It just didn't make sense. Who had called? Peter was dead, Evan was dead–who else was there that could be insane enough to do it again?
“Remus, I have to ask.” Moody said, “It's coming up on a year now, and it's normal for victims of traumatic events to have flashbacks, to see, or hear things that aren't actually there.”
“I'm not crazy, Moody.”
“I'm not saying you are, son.” Moody sighed, “I'm just saying you’ve had a hard couple of years lately, and no one would blame you if… it got the better of you some days.”
And wouldn't that just be easier? If it was just a trick of Remus’ mind? Maybe he was still half asleep, and maybe the nightmares had clouded his judgment, maybe he had just imagined it all. It was almost the anniversary, after all.
So, Remus hangs up the phone again. He lets himself believe it was just a spook, a trick of the mind. He ignores Peter’s ghost just outside the line of his vision. He goes back to his dorm, puts on his uniform, finds Amelia, helps make plans for a small Halloween celebration, and goes to class. A normal day by all means.
In the second class of the day, chemistry, he breaks his pencil and has to ask for another. He almost calls the boy sitting next to him Peter simply out of habit, but catches himself at the last moment. Really, he is trying to forget about that stupid call and the stupid dream– it shouldn't be so hard to ignore it but it is.
The class is nearly over, and he only has one more after it. The teacher has been droning on about the same thing for nearly an hour and his brain is turning to mush from the sheer boringness of it all, so could he be blamed when he decided to spend his time looking out the window next to his desk?
Could he really be blamed for the way he scrambled away from his desk when he saw the figure standing below, staring at him?
Could he really be blamed for running from the room?
He's sure he looked crazed, honestly he's starting to feel a bit crazed. For all the time he's spent arguing for his sanity, he's not sure if there was any truth to anything he said. He's starting to doubt everything– I mean that phone call, that figure– the date, what even is the year– and why is he here ? Why isn't he home ? He needs to get home– it's not safe anymore –
“Remus?” A soft voice asks and through his blurred vision Remus can just barely make out Pandora's form, “What are you doing hiding here?”
Pandora didn't seem bothered by his lack of an answer, sitting down next to him on the old wooden floors of the library. Remus isn't very sure how he got here, or when but he isn't surprised. The library itself is huge, and there are so many places to find solitude. It had become a place of comfort.
“I thought you had chemistry?” Pandora asked, “Hm.. I’d walk out too, though. Mr. Danbury can be such a bore some days.”
They sat together for longer than Remus would've expected someone to, especially someone he didn't know very well–but Pandora had a reputation. She was sweet, though many found her odd, she seemed to like that. He liked Pandora well enough, all things considered.
“Yknow, Remus,” Pandora started, “I have family in Canvey, thats where you're from isn't it?”
Remus hesitated, “Yes.” he answered, flexing his hand as he slowly regained feeling.
“Beautiful tiny place,” She hummed, “I always found it quite charming. It's awful what those directors are doing, but I'm sure you know the most about that.”
Oh.
Well, shit.
You see, Remus had been very careful about revealing his past. It's not exactly appealing to people to find out that he murdered someone, so he decided it best to keep that to himself–and by keeping that to himself, he also kept everything from the past two years to himself. In all honesty, the most common information about Remus was that he was from Canvey, had some friends back home, and had scars on his face.
But it seems Pandora knows, from her family or whatever, she definitely knows.
“Remus? Are you alright?” Pandora asked worriedly, “You look awfully pale.”
“Fine. I just wasn't expecting..”
“For me to know?” She asked, “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I won't tell anyone if thats what you're worried about.”
“I'd appreciate that.”
“It's not like you did anything bad,” She continued, “Self-defense the paper said, brutal in the end though. It must have been hard. I’d hate to see how the movie will portray it.”
“You and me both.”
“So you're going to see it then?” She asked, almost excitedly, “I was wondering–I know I shouldn't, but it's just such a unique situation, don't know if I would go myself if it was my movie. There's just a morbid curiosity about it for me, though. I think I’d want to see who they cast to play me… but that might just be me.”
Remus isn't really sure what to say to that, honestly he barely knows this girl, and he's grateful that she isn't making a big deal out of his mini-breakdown (but honestly, who hasn't seen one of his breakdowns?), but he doesn't exactly want to hash out the details of the movie with her.
“I'm not going to see it.” He settles on saying.
“Oh.” She says, “Well, thats understandable. I think I’ll go and see it.”
She says it simply, in no way malicious but it still rubs him the wrong way, as he gets up to leave Pandora follows him, patting him on the shoulder.
“Take care, and Happy Halloween.” She smiles.
“Happy Halloween.” He says as he watches her leave.
*
October 29th, 2008 3:02 PM
“Do you think this is enough?” Amelia worried, looking around at the decorated common room. The area filled with Halloween paraphernalia and a large television they had stolen from the teacher's lounge. “I just want this to be fun.”
“It will be,” Remus reassured while he sat down a crudely carved pumpkin.
“It's just such a bummer you won't get to see what we usually do,” She sighed, crossing her arms, “We used to throw huge parties, with like strobe lights and loud music and booze. The teachers would turn a blind eye as long as we kept the younger kids away, I don't get why they banned it this year.”
“Right, that must suck,” Remus said, knowing very well the reason it was banned. “I'm sure it would've been a hoot.”
Amelia laughed, “You're an odd guy, Remus. In a good way.”
“Thanks, Amelia.”
Amelia smiled prettily and started to talk again before a look of horror crossed her face and Remus’ heart dropped. What was it that caused that look? Was he back? Was he standing right behind Remus, knife in hand, just waiting to slit his throat? But then Amelia was patting he pockets and tipped her head back so far he thought it might fall from her shoulders (No, he didn't think of Rita, he didn't –), as she groaned.
“Shit.” She said, “I completely forgot to bring Professor Davis his keys back, he's going to kill me.” She looked down at the watch on her wrist, eyebrows furrowed, “I'm really late for something.. Remus, would you mind bringing these back to him..?”
“Go on,” He nodded, holding his hand out as she gratefully handed him the keys, sending her thanks while she ran from the room to god knows where.
Without much thought, Remus turned to start the route down to the labs, before abruptly stopping and realizing what hes had just agreed to. He agreed to go downstairs, after school hours, to the very deserted, very isolated science lab. A place where no one would hear him scream if that were to happen. A place where they wouldn't find his body for days, if ever. And Amelia was sweet, perhaps too sweet. Hundreds of things could convince her to kill him, hell Evan had tried just for the fun of it. And really how well did he know her? How much could he trust her?
God, that phone call was getting to him. All of this was getting to him, to be honest. Why was he here? What did it matter where he went, since clearly this shit was always going to follow him? Maybe Amelia was just a normal girl who was asking a friend for a favour. And here Remus was analysing it looking for the signs of a killer. Once again, he was thinking of Peter.
Peter Pettigrew. The best friend. The brother. The fucking scars on his hands. Peter who would never truly be dead, for he would forever relive his final moment in Remus’ dreams. Peter who had somehow managed to ruin Remus’ life all because he felt left out. Peter who Remus still fucking misses.
The lab is eerily quiet, and cold. The lights are turned off and the long tables are mostly clear, dissection equipment scattered in the sinks from the last class. He doesn't see Professor Davis and just assumes he’s probably left for the day, Remus figures it should be fine just to put his keys on his desk and write a note. He searches around for a few moments in the dark for a pen and notepad, the silence morphing from deadly to comfortable.
Remus is quick to write out a note, just saying that he had dropped off the keys for Amelia, and like everything else in his life–a horror clique happens. He hears something fall. In the dim light of the lab he can't make anything out, but if he has learned anything during his time as an unwillingly-titled ‘final girl’ it is not to stick around when things get sketchy.
He’s booking it out of the lab before he even registers he's sat the keys down, desperate to be back around people, safety in numbers and all that. He can barely register anything other than the wind billowing around his face and the beating of his own heart, so it's not a shocker to anyone when he runs into someone. Well, it’s a shocker for Sybil, who has now dropped all of her things on the ground.
“Shit,” Remus scrambles to pick up Sybil's things, ushering papers together and grabbing an oversized folder, “Sorry, I am so sorry–I wasn't looking where I was going.”
Sybil looks quite shaken, staring up at Remus with a gaping mouth as her hands hesitate to grab her things back. Her glasses are somewhat skewed on her face, half hanging off her nose.
“Sybil?” Remus asks, half concerned he just traumatized some poor girl, “You ok? Here let me help–”
“No!” Sybil scrambled backwards a bit, stumbling as she pushed herself up and hastily grabbed her things from Remus’ hands, holding them close to her chest, “I mean, it’s alright! I’m fine, ha !”
“Are you sure? You just seem–”
“Perfectly fine.” Sybil smiles tightly, “Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Alright?” She says before pausing, “It is nearly Halloween.”
Well, shit. That could mean a myriad of things, she could just be talking about the holiday, maybe Remus is one of those people who gets the heebie-jeebies from it, or she fucking knows . He doesn't know which would be worse. Probably her knowing he's a murderer thing. Yeah, thats definitely worse.
So, he asks.
“What are you saying?”
“Word travels, Lupin.” She says quietly, “And you showed up covered in scars. It didn't take a genius. Google is a thing now, you know. And it's none of my business what.. what you are, but I don't make it a habit to be around…”
Really he can't blame her, because it's written all over her face. Fear. Of him. He gets it, no matter how he tries to avoid it the undeniable truth is that he is dangerous. That he is a killer. That he is scary. How could he ever blame her for being scared when he is too?
“Oh.” He says, “Alright then.”
Sybil doesn't look at him when he talks, she takes two steps back and then all but runs past Remus, as if she's waiting for him to pounce on her and do whatever it is she thinks he's capable of. He stands there for a few moments listening to the retreating of Sybil's footsteps until the corridor is quiet.
When he looks up again all he sees is the shadow of a dark robe disappearing behind a corner.
Hello, old friend.
*
October 31st, 2008 12:29 PM
“Remus, mate.” Fabian is saying from across the room, where he sits on his bed throwing a ball at the wall, “You're gonna have to call your friends back. They’ve been blowing the phones up.”
Remus groaned.
“Dude. I am begging. You have thirty-seven missed calls. Thirty-seven . Thats just excessive.”
“I’ll call them tomorrow.”
“You said that yesterday.”
Remus put his book down and sat up on his bed, “I’m a very busy man.”
“You're actually not, though.” Fabian laughed, “I live with you, Lupin. You can't lie to me the way you can to your little friends.”
“I'm not lying to them.”
“You're just avoiding them,” Gideon interjected from the desk where he was leaning over his laptop. “Which might be worse.”
“No one asked you to pipe up.”
Gideon shrugged, “My room, I’ll say what I want.”
“You didn't even go to classes yesterday.” Fabian says, “I covered for you, I don't think they believe you have the flu. They especially won't believe us if they see you at the party tonight.”
“It's just a small thing in the common room, Amelia says they won't care.”
“Except it’s not?” Gideon says, turning around to look at Remus, “Student body threw a bit of a fit. Got a petition and everything, They've given us permission to use the courtyard, s’long they don't catch us with booze–”
“--which they undoubtedly will,” Fabian interjected.
“--Bone’s and her little group have been up nearly two days rushing to get vendors and shit.”
Whatever God there is undoubtedly hates Remus. The whole reason the Halloween festivities had been cancelled before was because of Remus, and now they were apparently back in full spring.
“.. Isn't that a bit last minute?”
“They're all rich, they just pay a fee to get them to come or whatever.” Fabian shrugs, “I thought you were helping her?”
“I was, but–”
“You'd better go find her then, poor girl is running herself ragged trying to make it happen.”
“No, I–”
“You should call your friends first though,” Gideon nodded.
“I really–”
“Off you go Remus, let's go!” Fabian said, all but lifting Remus out of his bed and shoving him out of the dorm, “Have fun! And call your fucking friends, I’m begging .”
Remus waited a beat in the hallway and then tried to turn the door knob.
Locked.
“Go call your friends!”
“I hate both of you.” Remus yelled back.
“Oh! My heart, how will I ever recover!?”
“I haven't a clue, Gid, I’m simply devastated.”
“Pricks.”
*
October 31st, 2008 1:10 PM
“Where the hell have you been?”
“I can explain–”
“Do you know how worried James has been? How worried I have been?” Lily chastises down the line, “How worried LYALL has been?”
“I'm sorry.”
“You should be!” Lily sighs, “I'm sorry too, ok? I don't mean to get onto you like this, but–”
“I know.”
“It's scary , Remus.”
“I know.”
“It’s almost been a year and I know you’re safe at school but..” Silence, “I have my other boys here where I can see that they are safe, and I call Mary every day and hear how she's healing, and I hang out with Dorcas and Marlene at least twice a week. I know they are safe, but you.. I can never be sure.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling that way a bit too.”
“What does that mean?”
..
“Remus?” Lily asks, “What do you mean by that?”
“My dad hasn't said anything to you, has he?”
“What would he have to say?” Remus can hear crackling on the other side of the phone like Lily is moving, but all it does is remind him of that breathing – The in and out as they watched him run like some sort of lab rat – “Remus? Are you still there? Remus?”
“I'm here.”
“Are you okay? What's going on?” Lily's breathing has obviously picked up now, her words frantic, “I haven't talked to your dad, only James has but he would've told me if something happened–You would've told me, right? Right?”
“Please don't panic.”
“Tell me what the fuck is going on and I won't!”
“I got a phone call.”
“... Oh , fuck .”
“It was probably just a prank, I’ve already talked to Moody–”
“Moody knew? And he didn't tell any of us?”
“He didn't think it was real–”
“Did anything else happen?”
Remus did not want to answer.
“Remus, I swear to god .”
“I thought I saw him.” The other side of the line is silent, not even a breath coming through, “Lily?”
The line went dead.
*
October 31st, 2008 8:21 PM
Remus wants the record to state that he did try to get out of the party. He did try to hide out in several places, but it seems like Amelia has fucking bloodhounds for friends because they foundhim, so he can not be blamed for spending the anniversary of the worst day of his life at a fucking party.
“So someone donated a Magician which I think will be a fun twist this year,” Amelia was explaining as she brought Remus to the fully decorated courtyard. It really was beautiful, the large open space with its Cathedral-like architecture all dolled up with string lights, orange-black streamers and fake cobwebs. There had to be at least a hundred pumpkins, some carved some not. There was a large makeshift stage area that housed two huge speakers and a human-sized box that apparently belonged to a Magician. “I think it was a gift from one of the Black sisters.”
“They planning on making an appearance?” Remus asked as nonchalantly as he could, he didn't exactly want to see Sirius’ deranged cousins, especially that older one. Bellatrix. She had been the first to know about the whole murderer status and seemed far too intrigued.
“Probably, I think everyone is.” Amelia smiles, “This is the biggest party we’ve ever thrown, I mean everyone was just so excited to donate, it's going to be epic .”
Epic was not the word Remus would use. Traumatizing, nauseating, and murderous on the other hand…
Two hours later found Remus half-hiding behind a food booth, watching the surprisingly big crowd of students in various costumes fill up the courtyard. Music was blasting, people were dancing and laughing along with their friends, completely oblivious to what could be lurking. Not Remus, though, no, he was aware. Hyperaware, one might say. He was watching everyone, looking for a hidden blade or murderous look in the eye, every now and then he would see Peter, but a quick shake of the head made him quickly disappear.
Remus could not fathom how Amelia had made this all happen, all the vendors and the fucking stage. He couldn't fathom the carelessness they all had, the casual way they let themselves drink and lose themselves to the influence of alcohol and whatever party drugs were being passed around. He envied them. He hated them. He wanted to protect them. He was never much good at that though, was he?
“Remus!” An arm was thrown around his rigid shoulders, dragging him in close, “What the hell are you doing hiding out all on your lonesome?”
“ Benjy .” Remus sighed, relaxing a bit as he realized he was not about to get stabbed in the gut because he forgot to look behind himself (Horror movie rule #1, cmon Remus this is not your first rodeo.) “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Noticed,” Benjy laughed, loosening his arms to jump around to Remus’ front, all but blocking him in their little corner “What's got you all jumpy?”
Oh, just my dead best friend. The Norm.
“Not really a fan of Halloween.”
“What? You ? Really?” Benjy gasps in fake surprise, looking Remus up and down, “Is that why you're dressed as.. A dead poet? Let me guess, Todd?”
“Ha-ha.” Remus rolls his eyes, “You really are hilarious, have you considered a comedy career?” Remus asked as he let his eyes travel over Benjy's shoulder, catching an all too familiar sweep of black material that makes the hair on the nape of his neck stand up. “Hey–”
“Hey, no judgment if that floats your boat.” Benjy says, waving his hand, “I'm more of a Neil Perry gal if I do say so myself.”
“You're not any sort of gal last I checked,” Remus said distractedly, trying to as politely as possible push past Benjy to figure out if that was a ghost or reality, because if it was–
“I could be a gal if thats what you're into,” Benjy laughs, winking cheekily up at Remus.
“Benjy–”
“I know, I know.” Benjy shrugs, “Can't blame a bloke for trying, though, can you Remus? Hey– Remus ? Where are you going–?”
Remus had successfully spun the two of them around, leaving him free to walk away from where Benjy was playfully flirting, his eyes tracing the mass of kids until he saw it again, the cloak, turning a corner by the stage. He yelled a quick excuse behind himself to Benjy and immediately began to follow. And yes, following wanna-be serial killers never was a good idea, but—He had experience in this ok? He was the expert, and if he could go ahead and catch this fool before he did whatever fucking idiotic plan he had, well then it would save Remus a hell of a headache.
He was weaving his way through the crowd, trying to avoid stepping on anyone's feet and spilling any drinks when it happened, he had all but expected it, there was a shift in the air, a curtain falling down behind his eyes and a faint taste of metal in his mouth as he felt someone grab onto the back of his sweater and pull back.
In an instant he is tense, sharp, calculating. He knows what comes after, he knows he will look back and see the knife, ready to be plunged into his chest, or throat, or gut and then he will have to throw his arms up to block it, or turn and pray it hits his shoulder instead, this is the part he knows .
Except–
“Sirius?”
For a moment Remus is horribly confused because Sirius doesn't go here – Sirius is back in Canvey , why is he here? Where’s the knife? The mask? Peter ? But then Sirius’ arms are pulling him to his chest and his arms wrapping around Remus and squeezing . Remus barely has a moment to even react before Sirius pulls away again, his hands grasping Remus’ arms as his eyes scan every available surface of Remus’ skin.
“You're ok.” Sirius breathes, “You're ok. You're ok? You are ok, aren't you?”
“I'm fine, what are you.. What the fuck are you doing here?” Remus asked, his eyes searching Sirius’ face, it had been months. Pictures truly did not do him justice.
Wait , no, Sirius can't be here, no matter how secretly pleased Remus is to see him, it just makes it all more complicated. Because if there is a killer, then he isn't going to be able to stop it, not when all he’ll want to do is protect Sirius.
“You said you got a phone call.” A voice says from behind Sirius, “Fake or not, we couldn't leave you alone with that.”
“ Lily .” And by her side, “ James .”
“Hey Moony,” James smiles, “Like Lily said, we couldn't stay away, not when you might need help.”
“ Oh –” And for the first time in months, Remus realizes just how lonely he has been– just how much he has missed them. An ache in his chest just appears out of nowhere– and no pain compares to it. No knife could ever do the damage that being away from them has done.
But fuck ! They have the absolute worst timing!
“You guys can't be here!” he forces out, because they really have just complicated everything, fucking hell , “You need to leave– now .”
All three of them give him a look as if to say ‘ You really think thats going to work, you dumb fuck? We’ve already been stabbed for you! (Most of us atleast) ’. Just truly the most incredulous look he has ever seen.
“Yeah, no.” Lily says, “We just got here, we aren't going to leave you on your own–”
“I work better alone–”
And really he should’ve held his tongue because the second he says it protests are being thrown at him. I mean James is basically yelling, Sirius is calling him a liar , and Lily doesn't even have to say anything. Her face says enough.
When they stop yelling at him, he's so flustered he doesn't even think to talk. Really, he thinking about how he is wasting time, how he's so sure that wasn't Peter’s Ghost and if it really isn't Peter then someone is in real danger– everyone is. People are probably already dead. He needs to go –
“Remus? Remus, are you listening?”
He turns his head back to Lily, the ringing in his ears clearing up and being replaced by the loud music and voices all yelling over one another to be heard. Great. Now his friends are looking at him like he's crazy, and he isn't– he really isn't. He's prepared–and of course, you have to be paranoid to be prepared. If he wasn't people would die, which is exactly what he is trying to avoid, so if they could all go home so he can care about saving other people that would be great because if they’re around he will let everyone else die just in case it might possibly save them –
“Ok– OK. I hear you– Please just breathe.” Sirius is in front of him now, he has no clue where Lily is because she had been right there– Oh. There she is, next to James, eyebrows furrowed and eyes concerned. Great. He loves that look. It doesn't make him feel like a monster at all. “God Moons.. You..” Sirius just shakes his head, and he looks horribly sad. Remus hates that. He just wants to make it better, but he doesn't know how. A part of him wants to just hold Sirius’ face and kiss him, the other half knows everything he happens to touch breaks apart. “You don't have to save everyone.”
Oh great, either Sirius is a mind reader, or Remus is stupid enough to have his mental breakdown out loud. He is sorta hoping for the first option.
“Who else will?” He asks, and they don't seem to have a magical fix for that, “Can't just let them die, can I? I mean– they have no idea the danger their in. And why would they? I mean– we kept them in the dark about what I was– where i was from. I basically signed their fucking death certificates.”
“It isn't your fault–” James tries to say, stepping closer.
“Then who’s is it? It wouldn't be happening if I wasn't here! People are going to die– and I’m the reason why.”
“We don't even know that someone is really here.” Sirius says, offhandedly “This could all just be for nothing.”
“What do you mean? Someone is here, I saw…” The looks on their faces. Especially Sirius’. It's so fucking telling. They aren't here because they think a murderer is back, they're here because they think Remus is imagining it. “Oh.”
And it's simple, really. They don't believe him– just like Moody. He would even bet that Moody probably called them, and told them that Remus’ fucked up brain was making fucked up delusions and that they should go visit and make sure he was ok . I mean, surely they remember the first month after Peter? How bad everything had been? No one would want that to happen again.
Well, fuck that. Maybe he was delusional, but he knows .
He is back.
I mean, he's standing right there. To the left of Lily’s shoulder, just blurry enough to not be exactly real. His eyes aren't quite right, he can't remember the shape perfectly, but it’s Peter, no doubt. The Axe in his chest is very telling.
Remus just looks at him, and for some reason, it's calming, he can feel his pulse steady and his breath even out, the only thing that is missing is the adrenaline rush that comes from a knife threatening to pierce your skin. Peter smiles. He really misses his smile. It's not the same when he has blood on his teeth.
They have to be back. They have to.
Remus turns on his heel, toward the giant crowd of partygoers, and just immerses himself in the crowd. His eyes are sharp, searching. Black shroud. White mask. Long knife. There are so many people– everyone is basically atop each other, and so many costumes you can hardly tell who is who. He can feel Peter behind him, a looming presence, cold. It keeps him sharp. His eyes roam the crowds, faces blend into each other, and then into other people. Evan, Mary, Marlene, Dorcas, Emmeline –
Ghostface.
There. About 20 feet away. Right in the middle of the crowd.
Just standing there, Remus can just barely make them out. It's clear, though. They see him too.
A cold hand rests on his shoulder, and he can feel his breath on his ear. So real. He could reach out and touch Peter if he wished.
“ Go .” Peter whispers, and he does.
His body moves on its own accord. One foot after the other, forward and forward. They tilt their head and Remus is squeezing through the crowd, so close– and then a knife slides out of their sleeve, and they turn . They want to try and confuse him– maybe get behind him so they can slit his throat. Remus just keeps going forward.
He's standing right where they were now, just waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
But nothing.
He isn't used to nothing.
I mean, by now they've atleast tried to stab him.
He's searching again for that Mask, but they just aren't showing themselves, it takes so long that he can hear his friends calling for him, they've caught up, pushing through the crowd. Where is he? Why isn't he doing what he's meant to be doing? He isn't playing the game right.
Remus takes a few steps back, bumping into someone who sends him to the left, stumbling. He doesn't have his cane and his leg is less than stable on a good day, so he finds himself on his knees in the grass. It is a struggle to get up, people are all around blocking him in, suffocating, and he has nowhere to grab to haul himself up. The music is too loud. The people are too many. The air is too hot. But he gets up.
Then he steps forward and hears a crunch.
When he looks down his brain doesn't quite process what he sees. At first, he just thinks he's accidentally stepped on someone's foot, but thats not right. He takes his foot away and he can see the broken bone move in whoever's arm he has just stepped on. His eyes follow the arm that is attached to a lifeless body, a girl that he doesn't even recognise, but he is at fault for her death. She was pretty, too. Her blonde hair is laid around her head like a crown, and her face is so eerily calm, unseeing eyes open to the sky, mouth lax and bloodied, neck slit. She reminds him of Rita.
She's not the only one, it doesn't take long to realise at all. In front of her, maybe 10 or 15 paces away there is another body. A guy, who he does recognise as a boy from his study group. What was his name? He was a sweet kid. A year and a half younger than Remus, he was fifteen. Remus thinks this may have been his first party. Now he’s lifeless on the muddy ground with his stomach split open.
A bit farther away from him is another body. Then another. And another.
This is a new game. This is a deadlier game.
The rules have been completely changed, the kill count is higher, they're already verging on having more kills than their predecessor. This isn't good– there are too many people, it's too easy to step into a crowd and just kill. No one will notice, too wrapped up in the music. They will trample their bodies to dust before they even realise they aren't just passed out drunk.
He follows the trail of bodies, taking note of their faces, trying to remember the names of the people he has killed. He needs to remember. It's the very least he can do, to let them haunt him. He winds his way to the edge of the crowd, so close he can feel the vibrations of the bass, he's so very near getting out when the music comes to a drastic stop and a microphone screeches out through the sound system drawing everyone's attention. Cheers start instantaneously as Amelia steps out onto the stage, waving happily and taking a modest bow as she looks over the crowd. Remus watches for just a second, maybe two– it's enough time for someone to grab his arms and put a knife to his throat.
He was sloppy and now he is dead.
Except– they don't cut. They don't carve into his throat the way others have tried, they just hold him still and keep it pressed to his skin, a threat. They keep him turned toward Amelia, they want him to watch. A horrible feeling washes over him– they want him to watch .
Amelia– sweet, loud, stupid Amelia. She has no idea she's about to die. Or be tortured to the point where death sounds like a really nice break. She’s happy, giddy even as she stands up there in her Dorothy Costume introducing the magic act. Remus really shouldn't be surprised when a second Ghostface comes out– this time with an ill-fitting magician's hat. He hates to imagine where the real magician is.
“I just want to thank everyone for coming and making this the biggest Halloween fest in our school's history!” Emmeline says into the microphone, the crowd cheers instantly, “If the Headmaster asks, these are all Virgin Cocktails.” She giggles into the mic, a few stray whistles and laughs come from the crowd. “Ok, I’ll shut up now and let you guys get to the show.. May I present… The Marvelous Morayn!”
Remus can only watch helplessly as Ghostface comes forward with a flourishing bow.