October 24th, 2008
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 wake up 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 made his way down the common area, nodding to the people he knew. 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 really does 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 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 really like to share the trauma they had actually gotten from the night. They both knew 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.
“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.”
“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 really 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 way far too clique, 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.