hit me.
SIRIUS
Sirius made his choice.
He's moving to London with James and the Potters. The Potters, his Potters.
James, who has already unpacked his bags in the new house in the new city, will pick him up at the train station in London tonight.
Sirius is still here. still at Hogwarts, gathering his things. It's the last established "packing day" at the school and Sirius is one of the last to pick up his stuff from the dorm rooms. He didn't have anything of value at his parents' house, so he managed to avoid going there after graduation all together. This means he never properly said goodbye to his brother. The mere thought of it makes something in his stomach twist.
Remus is here, helping Sirius pack. They've been fighting all day. They've been fighting all week, actually. Fighting over Sirius leaving. Fighting over the fact that Remus doubts they'll keep in touch. Sirius swallows down the lump in his throat. They're best friends , of course they'll keep in touch. He asked Remus earlier if he thought he'd lose touch with Peter and James too, as they were also leaving. He still cringes at the mental picture of the face Remus made as the question laid as a heavy duvet over them. The question that never really got answered.
They're best friends , of course they'll keep in touch.
It's going to be the same distance between Remus and Sirius as it is between Sirius and Peter. Still, two hours from Remus seems further than two hours from Pete.
Sirius feels guilty for leaving and angry at Remus for asking him not to.
They’re laying beside each other on the floor now, staring up at the celing. The dormitory feels cold and empty. Everything is packed. Years of life put away. Sirius will miss this place more than any place in the world. This school has been his savior, his home. He’s forever grateful for it.
Remus cracks a joke about how the teachers will find their peace now that the ‘infamous marauders’ are gone. The pair laughs in union, then they stop and a silence, so loud it’s ringing in Sirius ears, falls between them. He looks over at Remus where he’s laying beside him and is surprised to see that Remus already has his gaze fixed on him.
His piercing eyes give Sirius a sudden urge to apologize, which isn't fair. He has a ticket out, Remus should be happy for him.
“Can’t belive that you’re really leaving. The train goes in an hour and then you’re gone”
“It’s not like im never coming back”
“That's what my dad said before he left the last time”
Remus is only half joking.
“You’re not being fair”
“I know”
Silence
His head is a knot of apologies and accusations. Of guilt and rage and a bruised heart. He wants to reach for Remus' hands, those hands.
He’ll miss those hands, which is silly as they're not his to miss .
Remus interrupts Sirius' thoughts then. Saving him from the silly excuse he has for a fabricated answer to why his fingers just bumped into Remus’s
“The point is not why you’re leaving, but rather that you are. I don't care what you're heading towards, but what you're leaving behind, Sirius. Could you just for one second in your foolish life consider..nay, see.. Without your dreams misleading your sight, what you already have in front of you?”
Never has he heard Remus speak with such despair, and for what? Why does he get to be so upset? Remus is close, so close and it makes his heart beat so, so fast. It aches in Sirius then. Remus doesn't understand. How could he? He has everything, he could have anything. His mother isn't poisonous, his mother is lovely.
His mother is dying, you selfish bastard. You’re leaving him alone in a dying town with a dying parent. He doesn't have everything, he barely has anything.
But what about Sirius? What about what he does and doesn't have? He’s got a ticket out, he needs to take it .
“There's nothing for me here, Remus, and there's everything for me there.”
“Nothing?”
“What are you playing at?”
“Nothing.”
“There's clearly something.”
Silence,
“Do you mean it? That there's nothing for you here, nothing?"
A wash of confusion flows through Sirius. For a second there, he thought they were about to fight. He knows how to fight with Remus. He doesn't, however, know how to proceed, whatever this is. Remus sounds almost hurt, as if Sirius has insulted him, personally.
“I, yes-”
Remus is moving fast, sitting up from where he’s been lying on the floor, next to Sirius. He’s facing down on him. Staring. Glaring, even. Sirius can’t really read his face. Hurt? Upset? No, he knows when Remus is angry, this is not it.
“Nobody?”
"What?"
Sirius sits up too. They're face to face now. Sometimes, when they are close like this, it feels like Remus is going to slap him. Remus must have thought of it, Sirius is sure of it. Sometimes, when they are close like this, they don't utter a word for a long time and Remus just looks at him, as if scanning his features. Sirius' skin always crawls when that happens and he wants to tell him to just hit him already. Go on then, do it.
“There is nothing for you here, there is nobody for you here, really?”
“I don't understand.”
“Me neither.”
Silence again . Not a word from either of them. Sometimes, Remus tells him that he drives Remus mad. Sirius can not help but wonder now. Did he do it? Did he drive Remus to insanity? That would explain why he speaks of things Sirius cannot understand.
“I- okay, you're confusing me now, Rem.”
Remus stands up, brushing his hands over his thighs as if they were dirty. He smiles, or tries to at least. It's a crooked attempt that wouldn't convince the most dense of people.
"You're confusing me too, Sirius. You always confuse me, or maybe I'm just confusing myself. Maybe I've just been some kind of fool through all of this."
His words are dripping with self-pity. He's staring down at his hands now. Examining his palms with furrowed brows. Remus Lupin, so often called out for his uneducated way of speaking. Teased for his accent and looked down upon because of his bad habit of cussing. Remus Lupin, who's smarter than most but overlooked for having a roadman's mouth. -Now sounds like a poet. He's using words bigger than the both of them and Sirius doesn't know how to interpret any of it.
Fool through all of this? This? What's this?
Hit me, then. Don't just stand there and stare and speak without making sense. Hit me, just do it already.
It's crawling under his skin again.
Hit me, hit me, hit me .
Sirius stands up too. Once more face to face.
Hit me, hit me, hit me .
Sometimes, when they are close like this, they don't utter a word for a long time and Remus just looks at him. Remus isn't looking now. He's still focusing on his hands. Sirius makes an effort not to stare at them too. What right does he have to Remus' hands? He gets a sudden urge to change his previous statement. There is something for him here, something he would leave behind. Those hands, he would look for them everywhere at the new university. And he would fail to find such a pair again. He cringes at the thought of telling Remus this and instead prays to whatever greater force once more.
Hit me. Hit me with those hands. Do anything with those hands. Don't just stand there and stare and speak without making sense.
His skin crawls and his cheeks are hot and neither of them speak. He's confused, but not really. He knows why his skin does what it's doing. Why his cheeks probably are crimson at this very moment and why he'll miss the very sight of those hands when he’s gone. It aches. It aches and it burns and his lungs are on fire.
Hit me, hit me, touch me.
What does it mean that Remus states he's been a fool through all of this? This? What's this?
Hit me, hit me
"Hit me"
His voice is hoarse and sad and desperate and when they lock eyes, Sirius knows what "this" is.
"I'm not going to do that."
"Please"
They're both whispering at this point. The room is empty except for them. Maybe that's the problem.
"There's really nothing for you here?"
"Hit me"
"Nobody?"
There's a lump building in Sirius' throat. It's hard to breathe and he thinks he might be shaking. Remus huffs, turns and starts moving away. Away, away, away. He knows how to fight with Remus. He knows it well and prefers it over this. He prefers anything over this. He doesn't know how to proceed with this.
Hit me, hit me, hit me
"Your hands."
Remus stops in his tracks, freezes and sways in place for a bit. He's not turning around, though. He’s not facing Sirius.
"My hands?"
It's barely a whisper, he sounds so tired. So done with all of it, Sirius almost wants to let him go. Just to make it end quicker.
Hit me, hit me, hit me
"Your hands are here and I..I'll miss them."
"That's not a good enough reason to stay."
"Did I say that it was?
He feels the need to defend himself here, to make it clear that he wouldn't stay for those hands. Because he wouldn't, would he? He wouldn't stay for a pair of hands..Hands he doesn't even have the right to touch.
hit me, touch me, hit me with them.
"My hands, Sirius?"
Remus turns now, his face is scrunched up with anger and confusion. His voice no longer a whisper, but rather a spiteful wheeze. He begins to ramble, his cheeks getting darker by the second, and if Sirius didn't know any better, he would say there were tears forming in Remus' eyes.
"I ask you to stay, Sirius. I want you to see what you already have here. What you're running away from.. And yeah, I understand if I've misinterpreted things, it wouldnt be the first fucking time now, would it? But for you to say..fucking hell Sirius, for you to only answer with..what? My hands? My hands, Sirius? Honestly..That's the only thing you can think of? The only thing you'll miss? Merlin, it makes sense now, why leaving isn't hard for you, why staying isn't an option-”
Hit me, then.
"I'll look for them everywhere. I'll never find anything close to resemblance. And I don't know-"
"My hands?!"
Remus is screaming now, a tear rolling down his cheek, it looks strange. Sirius has seen him in pain and anger and frustration, but never has the boy in front of him cried. It feels like a dream, all of it. Everything around him is happening too fast and his mind is a foggy mess of 'sorry' s and 'hit me' . What if he would just go ahead and start the fight himself? Hit Remus. Hit Remus? What's going on with him?
Touch me, I'm sorry. Hit me. Don't let me leave. I want to leave, I have to, it's my one way out. Hit me, hit me, touch me. I'll hit you, I'll touch you. Hit me.
Remus is still screaming. His voice so full of emotion, Sirius wonders if Remus will be empty and numb for the next couple of hours, or days, or years.
"-can't even say it, can you? What about my hands? My hands? You're cruel, you're being mean-"
He could just do it, bend forward and touch the other boy. It would be so effortless it feels like a crime not to. He wouldn't even have to hit him, he could be gentle. He could say that he only intended to comfort a friend. That touching him without force was nothing but an act of support.
Hit me, hit me, hit me
He's got his ticket out. Away from here, towards something, a chance to a good life. A university far away, living at the Potters, never to see his mother again. He's got his ticket out and Remus doesn't. Remus will stay here. Remus…
Hit me, touch me.
"Touch me"
Remus stills in front of him. His face is flaring red and his lip quivers. Sirius knows how to fight with Remus. They're good at fighting. Screaming their lunches off whilst moving in sync as if in a choreographed dance. They've fought over everything. Sometimes it seems as if they do it just to pass time. Sometimes it seems as if they do it because it's the only way for them to be able to get up in each other's personal space. Pushing, pulling.
"What?"
A mere whisper again. He doesn't like Remus like this. He doesn't like the fact that he is the reason why Remus is like this. Teary and unsteady.
"Touch me."
A glimpse of hope in the other boy's eyes. It hurts to watch and know that Sirius has a ticket out, away from Remus.
"Would it make you stay, touching you?"
Hit me, do anything but stand there and speak of things that will only leave us pained. Touch me.
He doesn't have to say anything, explain anything. The silence Sirius allows between them, lets Remus know the answer. The glimpse of hope leaves his eyes again.
"Then I won't touch you."
They stare at each other without speaking again. Remus won't hit him, Remus won't touch him. It's clear that the pair are both thinking of the same unspoken factualities. Sirius wants Remus to touch him, not hit him, but touch him gently. Remus would do it if it would keep Sirius here. Sirius will not stay. Sirius got a ticket out, Remus does not.
The other boy turns slowly and starts walking away again. Away, away, away. He then stops, turns around and takes a deep breath. Those precious eyes of his peering into the very soul of Sirius.
"You're a coward and you're cruel and I don't forgive you for it.”
Sirius knows this to be true. He wants to make it right, he really does. But he got his ticket out of here and he’s been too afraid for way too long to become brave for Remus now at the exit.
Don’t go, don’t let me go. Im sorry, touch me, hit me .
“I do, however, forgive you for leaving...I wouldn't stay for me either."
It hurts, it hurts so much. It’s a mean, low blow. This is worse than any pain his mother has ever caused him. He wants to touch, to hit. He wants those hands. He feels like wheeping. If he would start to sob uncontrollably, maybe Remus would hold him, touch him with those hands.
"Now you're the one being cruel."
His voice is trembling and he quietly curses the boy in front of him and what he does to his body.
"I know."
Remus turns around, away, away, away and exits the room without another word. Sirius is going to have to leave soon as well, not to miss the train.
He’ll hold his ticket out, in one hand. His suitcase in the other. Until then, he’ll sit on this floor, hyperventilating. Wanting for things to stay like they were. Wanting this school to still be his home. Wanting to throw up. Wanting those hands, wanting that boy.
I'll come back for you, I swear it.
It feels like a lie.