Meeting Again PT. 2
Severus’s POV
How long had it been since he was awake?
An hour? Two? Eight? Ten? Twelve? Fifteen?
His record was thirty-six-and-a-half, at least, he was pretty sure it was. He did have a clock…somewhere…but hours, days, weeks, months, years, blended together into a soupy mess.
Was he even awake now?
He half-heartedly pulled the goop away from his eyes, as if it wouldn’t quickly form again within a few hours. All he did anymore was sleep.
He had to still be asleep.
His vision had never been perfect, getting worse as he aged from four decades of not using necessary glasses, and they had gotten worse more recently for a reason he didn’t know, but there was no mistaking the figure crouched next to his head.
It was a person.
It was Remus Lupin.
He must still be asleep. He had to be. There was no other option.
Severus closed his eyes tight, forcing his hands against his ears to the point where they mine as well have been fused. “Asleep. Asleep. Asleep.”
“Severus?” The familiar voice which an annoyingly metaphorical and somewhat beautiful part of his brain made sure to mention that it sounded like burning wood hesitantly questioned. The man had to know who he was, was in his home, yet he made it sound like Severus was the invader. The freak even in his own space.
“Asleep. Asleep. Asleep.” He insisted even louder, as if he could force this to all be a dream. Force Remus to go back to his own house, or better yet, Wales. Force his own self to be both incredibly wrong and some sort of all-powerful God.
“Severus.” Not a question this time, a demand.
“Asleep. Asleep. Asleep.” His voice cracked from the effort of speaking so loud when he had done nothing but the occasional sleep-talking in nearly four years.
“Severus, you’re awake.” Perhaps Remus should have used this as an opportunity to escape, to avoid repercussions of breaking and entering, of watching someone sleep, of touching someone, though innocently, while they slept, but that felt wrong. Severus deserved the truth, besides Remus still hadn’t figured out what had made him come here; leaving was failure.
“Asleep. Asleep. Asleep.”
“Not asleep, awake.” Was this pointless?
The tears burned the corner of his eyes in a way that made it impossible to understand how anyone found crying enjoyable, a release that would make them feel better later. This just hurt; like everything else. “Asleep.” It was quieter than before, he couldn’t even begin to force himself to pretend that was a possibility anymore. This was really happening. Remus was really here.
“Don’t cry.”
Severus wanted to say that he could cry if he wanted to, wanted to inform Remus that people who broke into others houses didn’t get to critique their response, but he was too busy crying.
Was it really breaking and entering if he didn’t lock the door? He knew he should, it made him anxious not to, but the door being locked felt like he was trapped, caught in a snare. He had to be able to leave, without apparition, in seconds—maybe he should leave the door open from now on to remove another barrier?
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I—” What did one say in this situation? “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry.” is not the correct response, but Severus didn’t correct him on proper breaking-and-entering etiquette. He told himself this was because Remus didn’t deserve the knowledge, but really he was just crying too hard to really even think let alone speak, could just feel. What even was the correct etiquette?
“I—I’ll leave….”
For a reason Severus didn't know, forget understanding, the thought of being alone again, of Remus not being there, was more distressing than the current reality.
He clutched onto the cuff of the jacket, unable to let go even if he wanted to, as the man tried to stand, pulling him back to the ground.
“O-or I won’t.” He assured, but Severus didn’t relax his grip. “....Are you okay?”
He was met with nothing other than more tears and a gentle pull on his sleeve.
“I guess not.”
Neither man knew how long they stayed there, silent and unmoving, before Severus’s tears ended. Maybe minutes, maybe hours, but it did, eventually, come to an end, Remus’s jacket still holding him still by Severus’s will. Technically he could leave at any second, Severus was weak from malnutrition, and he could always remove the jacket, but he wouldn’t do that. It would just be cruel.
“Are you okay?” Remus repeated, still feeling like it was a foolish question.
Severus didn’t respond.
“Severus?”
He closed his eyes, body ready to go back to sleep. Remus shook him.
“You have to stay awake for a little bit.”
Why? Severus silently asked, but didn’t verbalize it. Remus seemed to understand anyway.
“I wanna ask you a few questions. Just yes or no, so you don’t have to speak, okay?”
Severus hesitantly shook his head yes.
“Have you eaten today?”
No.
“Drunk water?”
No.
“Drunk anything other than water?”
No.
“Left the couch?”
No.
“Gone to the toilet?”
No response.
“The physical toilet, not in the sense of emptying your body of waste.”
No.
“Brushed your teeth?”
No.
“Showered?”
The answer was an obvious ‘no’.
“Brushed your hair?”
No.
“Did anything other than sleep; before I got here?”
No.
“Have you done any of that at all this past week?”
He had to pause to think….No.
Severus didn’t know why he was being so honest, maybe because Remus could easily tell the answer to those questions regardless, but maybe not. Maybe he should have lied.
“Why?”
A shrug.
“Do you need help doing that stuff?”
No response.
“It’s okay if you do.”
No response.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
After a long, uncomfortable, pause, Severus nodded, not entirely sure it was a wise idea.
“Do you want to be clean?”
An even longer pause, then a nod.
“Do you want medicine? An actual bed? That doesn’t have springs and stuff sticking out?”
Yes.
“Non-ripped, clean, warm clothes.”
A much quicker nod.
“I can give you all that, right now.”
No.
This had to be a trap. He would be poisoned or mocked or forced to undergo another trial. He would have to pay with money he didn’t have or servitude or sex.
“Really, Severus. I want to help you.”
No.
“I thought you wanted all that stuff? Why is it different coming from me?”
No response.
“I won’t hurt you.” A small part of Severus wanted to laugh, but that was dangerous, so he didn’t. He would never understand why people laughed—it had only ever led to a beating or being crucioed.
No response.
Remus sighed, using the hand not being held still by Severus to rub his face. “I’m just trying to help….Why do you refuse to accept that?”
After a pause Severus tried to stand, but ended up falling straight into Remus’s arms due to his legs not being used to supporting himself. He still didn’t believe or trust Remus, but, if he didn’t comply the man might hurt him anyway.
He refused to be murdered in his own home.
“Do you wanna go to my house?” Remus didn’t seem to believe his eyes.
Yes.
At least this way he wouldn’t die in the same shithole his parents had.