Chapter 4
Things with Lyall have been tense for days now. Remus tries to be out of the house as much as possible. He found this little stream in the woods behind his house. It’s peaceful, and he has been sitting out there all day with a good book. It makes him crave a good cigarette though. He is planning on going into town once all his bandages are off. Finding a job and spending all his free time wandering the town instead of by the stream. Not that the stream isn’t nice. It might just be his favorite thing since coming home. It's just getting pretty repetitive. Every morning goes the same. He wakes up early and gets right out of bed. He grabs whichever book he wants to read that day. Quietly creep down the stairs to not wake his Father. Clean up whatever mess was left downstairs from the night before. Eat a small breakfast and take a piece of toast for lunch. Then take the seven minute walk down to the stream where he usually takes off his shoes and puts his feet in the water and reads till dark. Trying his best to avoid any thoughts of home or school or friends or family or really any thoughts at all, except for whatever the characters are doing in his book. Once the sun is about to set he walks back to the house. This is where his day becomes different. One of three things has been happening. Either he walks into his Father passed out on his chair or his Father is awake and completely ignores Remus or (Remus’ least favorite) his Father is awake and in an argumentative mood. He will yell at Remus for nothing at all or because a dish is left in the sink or the paper was moved from one table to the other or that Lyall’s favorite mug is nowhere to be found. Those are the nights Remus hates the most. He usually just stands there and takes the yelling. He doesn’t know what to do anymore. Since their big fight Remus doesn't want to fight back anymore. He is scared and hates that he is. He knows he is weak, but he can’t help it. If what gets him through the summer is just letting his Father yell at him until he drinks himself asleep then that's what he will do. He does deserve it, he guesses. A monster like him deserves nothing less. Sirius showed him that.
Today, as he made his way back to the house he wondered which evening he is going to be greeted with. He knows it is bad, but he can’t help but hope his Father has already drunk himself to sleep and he will walk into a silent calm house. He would love to just go up to his room, maybe finish the last chapter of his book and then go to bed. Staring at his front door he takes a deep breath and opens the door.
His Father's awake sitting on his chair, but he doesn’t even look up when Remus walks in the door. So it's going to be that kind of night. The one in which Lyall pretends he doesn’t even exist. Okay then, it could be worse. Remus bypasses Lyall and goes straight to his room. Right before he can get settled for bed, however, an owl is tapping at the window. Sighing, Remus opens it up and grabs the letter.
Remus!
You are actually making me worry, you know that don’t you? You know me, I worry about every little thing. I even got an owl from James asking if you have written me. We are really worried. Again you don't have to talk about anything you don’t want. Even an owl telling me to bugger off is better than nothing. I’m just worried about you. I had a bad feeling at the end of term and this silence is just making it worse.
Anyways please get back to me, or James, or anyone really, even if it's to tell us to stop bothering you. I am truly worried now.
With all my love,
Lily
Remus just shoved the letter in the drawer with the rest of them and went to bed with a throbbing heart.
***
The next day starts off the same as every other. He successfully avoided his Father all morning. He finished a very good muggle book, and he is pretty sure his bandages are ready to come off. Overall a very successful day.
That is until he gets back home from the stream. Lyall is in an argumentative mood tonight. The second Remus steps foot in the house he is being yelled at. “Why did you not clean up your dishes from breakfast, ungrateful git. Leaving your shit all over my house.”
Usually Remus just sits there and takes it, but he can’t help himself this one time. It's the injustice of it that causes him to speak up. “Those are your dishes. I washed and put away mine. Like I do, every day. Like I do for yours, every night.” He says it calmly, just stating the facts. Lyall does not care.
“I don't want your lip, you hear me! Clean up the dishes for god sake!” Remus is now seething.
“They are your dishes for fucks sake, it’s not right that I do everything around here. You are the Dad act like it!” Remus regretted it almost the second it left his mouth. Well shit, he thinks, he is too far in it now to back down.
“Oh you think you are little Mister perfect, don’t you? With your smart mouth, huh? Well get it through your thick head. No one is going to care whether you are in the right or in the wrong. You are a werewolf, you are always going to be in the wrong. That's how this works. That's how your life is going to be forever. I am just getting you used to it.” Lyall isn’t even really mad anymore. He just walks over to the fridge to get another beer, leaving Remus with his mouth hung open in shock. It is what Remus has been thinking all summer, but now hearing it from Lyalls mouth makes him angry, really fucking angry.
“And whose fault is that?” Remus dared to ask. “Whose fault is it that their four year old son was turned into a werewolf? Who pissed off a crazy fucking warewolf and then didn’t protect his family from the repercussions? If I am going to be treated like that then-” Remus was cut off with a hard slap to his face that caused him to falter, almost falling over. He throws his hands up to his face looking up at his Father with shocked eyes. Lyall raises his hand again. Remus holds his breath, staring into his Fathers eyes.
“Fucking hell!” His Father yells, dropping his hand and throwing the beer in his other hand hard against the wall behind Remus’ head. “Clean that mess up.” He says and then walks out the front door. Remus stands there staring at the door in shock. He isn’t sure how long he stands there before he gets his senses back. His Father just hit him. His Father actually just hit him. He didn’t know what to think. How could he do that? It had never come to that before? Sure, recently Remus had been thinking his Father might want to do it, but never did he ever think his Father was actually capable of doing it. Before his Mum died, he would’ve never done it. No matter what Remus could say or do he would never have raised a hand to him.
Remus wanted to leave. He wanted to walk away and never come back. He wanted, he wanted to have a different life. One where his Father didn’t drink and his Mother never died. One where his Father never upset Greyback and Remus never got bitten. He wanted to be someone else. Someone like James who was so sure of themself and who knew they were loved. Someone like Lily who could battle any problem without blinking their eye. He just didn’t want to be himself anymore. He didn’t want to be the person who did what his Father said. He hates himself as he starts to walk towards the broken bottle. He feels a piece of him break when he bends down to pick up the pieces. Why is he cleaning up after Lyall after what just happened? Why is he listening to him? He can’t stop himself though.
When he is done cleaning up the bottle, he moves on to the dirty dishes and he feels the worst he ever has felt. It is worse than when he woke up to find out what Sirius had done. He’s not sure how, but it is. This feels like a deep part of himself is broken. It feels like a part of who he is morally has just vanished and he will never be able to get it back. He hates himself. More than he did after it all happened last term. For some reason this is worse, he thinks as he climbs the stairs after everything is cleaned up.
He walks into his room and he just feels raw. It feels like every emotion he has ever had is written on his skin. He can't breathe very well and his face is wet from tears he didn’t even know he was shedding. The only thought he really thinks clearly is that he wants a cigarette badly. He doesn’t even fully make it to his bed, he sits at his desk chair crying like a child. Wishing he could be anywhere else but here. Hoping against all odds his Mum can’t see him now. He would hate her to see how he has turned out. He falls asleep like that. In his wooden desk chair, head fallen on the desk. Dried tears on his face and a reddish bruise in the form of a hand appearing on his cheek.