Four To The End (prev Shifting Lines) Book Three (Marauders Era)

Chapter Nine - Bundle Of Rubber Bands

CW: Brief suicidal thought (the feeling of wanting to die but nothing intense or explicit I promise), internalized homophobia, child abuse

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Remus didn't know how long he stayed in the tub; since the water was cold, the temperature only changed a little bit. He got very wrinkly and very hungry, and when he heard his mother fixing supper he figured he had been in there for too long.

He climbed out, shivering from head to toe from soaking in cold water for so long. If he wasn't a werewolf, that probably would have been a very stupid thing to do; and even with his lycanthropy abilities he felt ill. His skin definitely looked even more unhealthy than usual and there was a blue tinge to some of his extremities.

I can't be.

He stripped his wet clothes off and, after drying off with a towel, put clean clothes on. By the time he went upstairs, his skin had gone from sitting-in-cold-water-pallor to its usual werewolf-pallor. He was barely aware of anything his parents talked about which he thought was probably the heat, until his father mentioned Diagon Alley.

We're going in tomorrow, he realized, stomach twisting. He had been excited to go in since getting the list. Now... he didn't want to go. He didn't want to go anywhere. He wanted to lay in his bed and die. Or at least, not go anywhere where other people were.

I'm not, he thought miserably as he poked his food. I can't be. I can't be!

"I'm not hungry." He pushed the food away. "I—I ate too much earlier. S-sorry." He got up and went downstairs to lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

I'm not. That wasn't—I didn't—

Every time something had happened since his talk with Lily, he had found an excuse for his wrong feelings. Or, almost every time something happened. A couple of things he simply had buried deep inside of him to pretend it never happened.

He sighed, wrapping his arms around his pillow as he tried to figure out if he could bury this too.

Bury the desire to be held by and kissed by—

How am I ever going to face him again?! He gave a small wail at that and put the pillow over his face. He couldn't. He couldn't ever look at Sirius ever again. No, no, it didn't mean anything, it didn't MEAN ANYTHING!

He suffered for the rest of the evening and all night long, having nightmares. A lot revolved around Sirius finding out and either telling everybody Remus was a disgusting freak or outright killing him. Remus woke up several times crying. At one point he even bolted upright screaming, "I'M NOT!"

His mother came down into the cellar shortly after, to check on him. "You didn't seem well at supper," she noted.

"I—I think it's the heat," he whimpered, not protesting when she pulled him into her arms. He curled up against her, wishing he was eleven again, wishing he hadn't ever gone to Hogwarts—

Almost wishing he hadn't ever gone to Hogwarts.

Sort've.

Hope rocked him gently before tucking him into bed. Part of him wanted to ask her to stay with him, but he knew if he did he'd never be able to convince her he wasn't a little kid. He did let her sing him to sleep, and then woke up an hour later from more nightmares.

By the time morning came, he was completely exhausted and not any better than the evening before. All the thoughts still haunted him, clinging to his consciousness with wretched persistence.