Our Corrupted Souls

Part XXIII: Time Does Not Heal.

"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."

~ Friedrich Nietzsche

After the tragic news of Daria's death, Remus Lupin stopped seeing Lennox. Three days passed, and the man, nor his owl, presented themselves. He believed the promise he had with him was broken, that what he'd been told had been a lie and it was better for him to be left alone and tossed to the veil like the rest of the Death Eaters, until he heard a light knock at his door.

Remus, like every day, sat on the porch overseeing the lake in his too-big cotton sweater. His mind had grown distorted, split in two. Whenever the full moon was near, he often forgot what he'd done throughout the day. There were gaps in his memory he could not recall that drove him insane. It was like he was back in the Creaking Caves; except that here he was not trapped. He could leave if he wished, but he'd be hunted like the wolf he was and skinned. The image could not leave his mind. He felt uneasy in his own skin. The beautiful clear sky began to darken upon his eyes, clouds formed, a cloud of thunder and lighting covered the sky; he thought to be suffocating in the open air, when a light knock brought him back to the clear pastel sky.

His head snapped back to look at the open door given way to the hallway that allowed him to see the front door. He stood up with caution and uneasiness. Lennox never knocked. And he didn't have any visitors. His hand automatically sought his side, where his wand usually resided, only to remember how his wand had been forgotten in the pile of rubble that Hallowe'en night.

Yet, he went ahead and opened the door. He could not help it. His curious nature had always gotten the best of him.

"Padfoot?" His voice shook, heart caught in his throat. It could be a stray, maybe, but Remus refused to believe anything of the sort. He begged this dog, virtually dead, was his Padfoot-then his suffering would have been worth it. Remus picked up the limp black dog and brought him inside, where he unwrapped the dirty bandages and checked for him to be alive.

Harry stood outside, Remus had been too occupied to notice the little boy standing only a few meters in front of him. He knew he should make himself known; however a part of him did not allow him to move. The gentle breeze tickling his skin reminded him that Death was near, beside him like a bloodhound awaiting its Master's command.

At last, Remus pivoted back to close the door, and once again, found himself frozen in place.

~*~

As the door softly closed in the view to the trail to the gardens, he heard a muffle bark in the form of a whimper. He rushed to the black dog with urgency, stocking that gentle spot under his ear he knew Padfoot tended to gather a burst of energy seconds later. The dog nuzzled against Remus, his cold, wet nose touching the bare skin his ripped trousers exposed. And both slowly accepted each other's company, with Remus never ceasing to stroke that tender spot until he too fell asleep.
~*~

The following day was met with an indistinguishable surprise. Remus' fingers had intertwined between the tangled hair stickier now more than ever. When he'd attempted to remove his hand (not having yet opened his eyes, or even regained proper consciousness), there was a suppressed "ow!" He jumped to his feet at once, forcing the man on his lap to roll down to the floor.

"Hell, Moony..." said the man with a wheezy and defeated laugh. "Why must I always fall when near you...?" Remus, too perplexed to allow said commentary properly reach his thoughts, pulled the already weak man into his embrace-one that said a thousand things words alone could not express. Sirius' tainted and patched face grew red and hot as Remus pulled him closer and closer, whispering inaudible things to himself. He wished to enjoy the intimacy between them as much as Remus, but his embarrassment was more important than anything.