Not My Body
Remus had never liked hospitals. They unnerved him. It was something about the bright white lights, or the constant noises, or the quite obvious reason that hardly any good things happen within them. So it was really almost poetic, that it was whilst Remus was in a hospital that he realized his life had been forever changed.
Waking up, that first morning after the fire, Remus noticed the incessant beeping noise first. It droned on and on and on, flawlessly continuous. There was a strange, empty sort of pounding in his head, like it was in intense pain but didn't quite realize it yet, and a sharp tingle in the cartilage of his left ear. His whole body felt sluggish and very, weirdly wrong. The skin around his eyes and arms was offputtingly tight, and his tongue felt too big in his mouth, or maybe it was his teeth that felt smaller. Something soft brushed against the back of his neck and if Remus didn't know that his hair didn't even reach past his ears, he would have supposed it was long locks of hair.
Slowly, and with an increase in the pain in his head, he dragged his eyelids open. It was then that he realized that he was in a hospital and that the beeping was the slow measure of his own heartrate. Naturally, panic coursed through him, but he swallowed it down in favour of analysing his body, testing for damage. He didn't know if it was the bump to the head or the uneasiness and surprise of waking up in a hospital, but as he looked at his arms, he realized that they looked nothing like they had yesterday. They were tanned and no longer covered in small brown freckles. Maybe it was from the heat of the fire. It was a lie he might've believed if he hadn't pulled back the crisp white hospital bedsheets to reveal his thigh. A gasp escaped his lips, and even that felt different to how it used to. Sprawling across most of his thigh and (as pulling his shirt up a little revealed) most of his hip too, was a huge tattoo of a big black dog surrounded by constellations. Just like the one Sirius had.
"What the fuck."
His exclamation of surprise was immediately followed by a much louder one, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"
The voice that entered the stark empty hospital room was not his. It was deeper, gruffer, and he may have been able to attribute that to his injury, or his late night. But the accent. Gone was Remus' Northern lilt, and the little hint of Welsh that hid behind it. He spoke again, "Testing. Testing. One Two Three." His voice was flooded with the annoyingly smooth RP accent that Remus had long grown to despise. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, and oh how Remus wished it didn't. Sirius sounded just the same.
A strange feeling overcame him then- an intuition, a discomfort. Something was very, very wrong. He didn't feel like himself anymore.
Stomach sinking, panic dulling his senses, Remus looked down at his body again, bed covers thrown down to the very bottom of the bed. He started at his feet, which felt natural. Swallowing a shaky breath, he noticed that they looked all wrong- the scarring from hundreds of blisters had disappeared, the nails were carefully trimmed, the toes were too long and again, his skin was still too tan. He decided not to look at the strange tattoo again, and analyzed his hands, instead. All his usual cuts, scrapes and calluses were gone, replaced by smooth skin, the only imperfection small, hard calluses on the tips of the fingers of his left hand.
He couldn't take it anymore.
"What's happening to me?" A sob that didn't sound anything like him. Briefly, he considered the very real possibility that he was dead, and this was hell.
But he had to be sure. He had a theory, but it was straight out of a science fiction novel (and Remus didn't like science fiction, he was a strictly classic and literary fiction guy.) All he needed was a mirror, and to keep away a panic attack. It was actually pretty surprising, almost concerning really, that he hadn't had one yet. He was pretty confident he'd woken up in the wrong body, and yet, his breaths (which sounded different and even felt different) remained steady and sure.
A mirror.
Remus scanned the small room he'd woken up in. There was the bed, obviously, and the machine that was beeping his heart rate back at him. There was a small cabinet and a wardrobe with bright blue door handles. But there was no bathroom, which meant no sink, which meant no mirror. He'd have to leave the room.
Groaning, he pulled his aching body off the bed, knees buckling a little. With great effort and a lot of clutching his head, he opened the door and left the room. Everything seemed a bit higher up than it usually was, like he was shorter.
Mirror. He needed a mirror. As he walked slowly down the corridor decorated with cheery butterflies and colourful daisies, Remus raked a hand over his face. The contours were all different, he didn't recognise even a centimetre of the unfamiliar landscape. It was the nose that bugged him out the most, it felt so obviously incorrect.
Where was he even going? Where did he hope to find a mirror?
As if by luck, it was then that he wandered across a desk, behind which sat two kind-looking old women dressed in pink scrubs. He approached them cautiously, knowing he'd have to hear his new, false voice again.
"Hello, dear! What can I do for you?" One nurse smiled at him, the other did not look up from the romance novel she was clutching.
Remus struggled to push words out of his mouth- he didn't want to hear them ever again, not with the voice he'd heard earlier. If he spoke again, he'd have a renewed sense of wrongness, he didn't know if he was ready to face his suspicions yet. How had this happened? This didn't happen to people.
"Are you okay, love? What's your name, I'll get your doctor or one of the nurses from your ward?"
She'd picked up a phone and was looking at him worriedly. Remus just released a heavy, shaking breath, and finally spoke.
"I'm not really too sure who I am.." He burst into tears but didn't feel his cheeks going red like they usually would. The nurse rushed around the desk and reached to wrap him in her lavender-scented arms.
"Hey, hey, don't panic. I'll just read your patient bracelet and we'll find out who you are, okay?"
Why hadn't Remus thought of that?! He was such an idiot! His tears sped up as the woman gently reached for his wrist and read the small white label that was tied around it.
"Mystery solved!" She smiled warmly, "You're Siri--"
"--SIRIUS BLACK, YOU BASTARD!"
The nurse jumped, looking a little angry that she'd been interrupted, "Mr Potter, I already told you to keep the noise down!" She said sternly, and Remus followed her gaze, though he knew exactly what he was about to see. There stood James Potter, grinning at him like a madman.
"Sirius!" He stage-whispered as he walked over, "You are an absolute bastard and I am so glad you're okay. C'mere!"
Before he could protest, James had pulled him into the tightest, warmest hug Remus had ever experienced. His tears would've dried up, and he might've even smiled if he hadn't been reeling from the name he'd just been called. Sirius Black. Without even needing a mirror, his suspicions had been confirmed. For some strange, horrifying reason, he'd woken up in the wrong body.
He'd woken up in the body of Sirius Black.
Remus waited for the familiar tightening in his chest, for the shortness of breath, as James released him and looked down at him, grinning. But it never came. Sure, he was panicked, stressed, practically losing his mind, and definitely still crying- but he wasn't having a panic attack.
James' smile faltered as he saw Remus' (Sirius'?) tears, "Oh come on now, don't cry mate."
"I-I... Listen, I'm just... I'm not--"
"Shush. You've gotta chillax, because if Reggie sees you crying, he'll start crying, and then I'll start crying." James chuckled, his eyes already watery, "C'mon Sirius, take a deep breath, and we'll get Reg. He's dying to see you, I swear last night he almost collapsed like three different times."
Remus continued crying.
"You're okay mate, everything's ok. Hey? Right? You're alive aren't you?" James pulled him into another brief hug, which Remus quickly wriggled out of.
"Stop it! I'm not Sirius! Everything's not okay!" Remus' sobs quickly devolved into shouts. The nurse gave him a warning glance. How was this real?
James' brow furrowed, and he took a step back, "Sirius.. Are you.. The doctors told me you wouldn't have amnesia or anything.."
"I don't have fucking amnesia! I'm in the WRONG BLOODY BODY!"
"Siriu--"
"GO AWAY POTTER, LEAVE ME ALONE!"
To his credit, James did back away at the request and started walking away. His eyes wept with concern as he turned around quickly to say, "I'm not leaving, I'm going to get your doctor. We can fix this Sirius. You'll be fine."
Remus felt like he was going to throw up watching James walk away. Was this his life now? Was James his best friend? Would he never talk to Mary again? What about his job? What about his parents? Would he have to spend the rest of his time living Sirius' life of failure and bad music?
And- oh god. The worst question of them all.
What had happened to his body? Would Remus Lupin fade out of the world forever? Or worse.... Was Sirius in his body?
He turned to the nurse, who'd taken up her seat behind the desk, and was looking quite grumpily at him.
"Sorry about the shouting." He said, letting Sirius' comfortable vowels and charming face do the work, "I really need to talk to another patient."
He swallowed another bout of tears, "Could you possibly tell me where Remus Lupin is?"