![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: From There to Here
Characters: Lupin/Snape
Rating: R for situation
Word Count: 3192
Author’s Note: Written for the express wishes of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
innerslytherin (for her lyric challenge) using the song “There to Here” by East to West:
He said I wish you could have known me
When I was young enough to dream
The world was mine to change
At least that’s the way it seemed
And I’m not sure when it happened
But all the hope just disappeared
And it’s been a long long way from there to here
This is not my usual fare but I enjoyed this pairing.
Remus couldn’t shake the haunted feeling deep in his gut. Even though everything was being dealt with (he’d checked and double checked with every member of the Order), he couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
As he paced the small room he’d been staying in these last months, recouping from the ordeal with the werewolves before he tried to enter decent society once again, Remus tried to make sense of his battered emotions. Now that Albus was dead, he didn’t have any one to talk this out with or run to for advice. If the death of Sirius, his best friend and confidant, had shaken his world, the death of his mentor had blow a hole clear through his heart. The wise old man had encouraged him to admit and embrace the part of him where the werewolf lived, even to the extent of living among the clan to help out the Order.
For the very first time, he’d understood what Severus had dealt with for all these years. In order to gain admittance, he’d had to shove down everything about his soul that was good and decent… and human. Pretending to fit in with the Death Eaters couldn’t be any worse than being an inhuman werewolf every hour of the day.
He’d finally dealt with Tonks, hoping his final words would convince her that he was not the man she thought he was. She wanted a connection to Sirius, thinking Remus would be able to connect her back to her family, when all she needed to do was admit what was right in front of her eyes. Sirius had been her mother’s favorite cousin and Tonks had never felt as if she could live up to the expectations for a perfect daughter whose blood flowed Black. Marrying him was not going to resurrect Sirius anymore than it was going to please Andromeda.
While her tears had been difficult to handle, he’d sent her off with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to eat better. The pain in his chest had abated somewhat even though he felt horrible for breaking her heart. It had been for the best. He was not the man for her, although he sincerely hoped they could continue to be friends. A friend was a valuable commodity these days, considering his were dropping away like shed fur. First, James, Lily and Sirius. Now Dumbledore… and Severus.
A sharp pain in his heart sent Remus to the floor, his hand clutching at the worn cotton of his shirt. “Accio,” he croaked, calling over his wand. None of the spells he could remember did anything for the pain. It was worse than he’d ever experienced and a flicker of fear coursed through him as he realized his heart was finally giving out. Letting the werewolf take over for so long had taken a heavy toll on his body while thinking of his friends and the stress of his situation lately had likely been a trigger. Maybe it truly was possible to die of a broken heart….
“Our last contact with him was four and a half weeks ago. Unless you have any better ideas, I don’t think our efforts should be wasted toward this goal.” Arthur shrugged and tried to look sympathetic. It was hard for the normally jovial man to feel anything for Severus after the cold way the man had always treated him. Now he was no longer their problem, much to the satisfaction of most of the Order of the Phoenix.
Remus shuffled the papers on the table in front of him, trying to hide his irritation. He’d convinced Arthur to set up a team to look for Severus but they came back with excuse after excuse as to why he was eluding them. Just because the man was a talented wizard didn’t mean he was a genius at camouflage. He was out there somewhere. Remus just hoped he was safe.
“Do you need to go see a Healer, Remus? You look like you’re in pain and you keep rubbing at your chest.”
Arthur’s concern brought him out of his reverie. “No, I’m fine. My body is still adjusting back to normal. This last full moon was more intense than ever before.”
When Arthur turned that ghastly shade of pale at the mention of the full moon, Remus got to his feet and pretended to have somewhere else to go. It was a genuine surprise that the Weasley’s still counted him a friend after what Bill had been through. He was healing nicely and would be ready to walk down the aisle in two weeks time with barely a scratch – except the ones on the inside that Remus suspected were deeper than the young man would admit.
There were other things to do, that was for sure, so his excuse was not in vain. If none of the rest of them could sniff out Severus, he would do it. The reports were incomplete until they were able to give sufficient cause that they’d done all they could do to help out the man who’d gone so successfully undercover.
It took him all of two days of constant surveillance to discover the whereabouts of the Potions Master and his young charge. Draco was paler than usual but looked no worse off for his flight. He’d have to ask why the boy wasn’t disguised more but knew that Severus was keeping an eye on him as he saw fit.
Severus, on the other hand, looked horrible. His pale skin was almost translucent under the light of the moon, his greasy hair looking dull and uncared for. Now that he had shed the black robes he was known for, the dark trousers and thick jumper made him look oddly shaped. The robes had always given him an elegance and dignity that he now lacked, looking instead like a bent old man.
A new burst of pain constricted his chest but Remus refused to give into it. Instead, he moved forward to check on the protection spell guarding the house the two had just left. It was well guarded and not many wizards would have been able to think of all the spells Severus had in his arsenal to use, but he was a creature of habit even if he didn’t realize it. After three unsuccessful tries, Remus walked through the gate and redid the protection spells, adding a few of his own that he would strengthen when they returned from their midnight jaunt.
The fire in the study had been banked and he coaxed it back into a cheerful blaze, setting himself up with a snifter of brandy and one of the thick tomes Severus always had on hand. Three quarters of an hour later, he heard the front door squeak open. Since no cry of alarm had been sounded, he assumed that Severus had indeed noticed his own signature protection spell and would make him wait until he was ready to admit his presence.
The wait wasn’t long. Another half hour passed before the door swung open. “Enjoying my liquor, are you?”
“I wouldn’t say enjoying. This stuff comes as close to rot gut as any I’ve tasted,” Remus responded back pleasantly, holding the glass up to the flickering firelight. The red fire he saw within the glass was a pleasant mirror for the man standing behind him, black eyes narrowed and stormy. A couple of years back, he would have kept silent in the face of the man’s anger, not sure how to react and not wanting to make it worse.
“You should know,” the man grumbled, laying down on the couch with a weary sigh, “since you gave it to me.”
“Never tell anyone I have good taste, then, because this stuff is vile. I was lucky to find a good book so the time hasn’t been a complete waste.”
Silence cloaked the room in a warm fog that smothered the senses. Remus felt the absence of sound as if it was another presence in the room, not wanting to bother it if Severus preferred it this way. He might not get many quiet nights like this. Remus, on the other hand, was becoming quite comfortable with these sorts of lonely experiences now that he was fast succeeding in running off all his friends.
“Your men have gotten even more incompetent of late. They passed me on the street and never batted an eye. Did everyone completely forget what I looked like or were they looking for another Severus Snape?”
Since Remus had assumed the other man had fallen asleep, he found himself chuckling uncomfortably until he could gather his thoughts. “They see what they want to see. I have my suspicions that I was the only who really wanted to find you. If you and your charge turn up, you’d probably create more of a headache for everybody involved.”
“Nice to know where I rank,” Severus muttered, his hands behind his head so that he could gaze into the fire comfortably. Now that Remus was looking over toward him, he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man. The sweater had ridden up his torso so that an expanse of extremely pale skin teased his memory. There would be little hair, he remembered, and it would be much warmer than it looked.
“Have they started to look for him?”
Remus shook his head, wishing the room was cooler so he could concentrate on this initial conversation. If this was to be all business, he would need to keep his wits so that he didn’t give away the true state of things. Better for both of them that they not know that Narcissa had been admitted to St. Mungo’s after collapsing at a formal dinner. When Arthur had arrived on the scene, he’d heard her garbled account of unbreakable vows, blood curses and general chaos that could only involve Death Eaters. That sort of thing was a bit taboo in the nicer circles and wasn’t the kind of thing to help either Draco or Severus. At present, things were still bleak for the two of them – from both sides of this fight.
“When did I become a byproduct of the war?” Severus muttered. Remus broke out of the trance and glanced away from the man’s chest to the haunted eyes no longer staring at the fire. “When I was a child, I was consumed with tales of knights and warriors. Not only were they larger than life, but they made a difference to the world around them. Everyone knew who they were. In their wake, they left a sense of hope to all who followed after them. I miss having hope.”
“You’ve made a difference to your students.” As platitudes went, this was one of the best. Vague but with a trace of reality so that it sounded so much better than it was. The cold, black eyes acknowledged both the positive and negative sentiments, but never lost the spark of despair. Nothing he chose to say could erase that. Not even admitting the difference Severus made in his life would help.
The wave of pain surprised him. If he was missing this man enough that his body rebelled at not being near him, shouldn’t the pain ease if he was near by?
“What is it?” The voice was near his ear, the gaze much closer now that he was trying to read the pain. “Are you ill?”
Remus wanted to shake his head like he did to everyone else, assuring him that it was nothing, it was something he’d eaten earlier, it was merely a twinge of over exertion. He could do nothing but pant as another shot of white-hot torment left him shaking and weak. It had never been this bad. Surely, one did not die of a broken heart in front of the person one craved like air, food and water.
“Christ, Lupin! You’re burning with fever.”
He was barely conscious of the arms under his shoulders and knees, slightly more aware of the heart beating against his arm but he wasn’t sure if the words he heard were real or simply part of the dream world he found himself slipping into….
“How often have you lost consciousness like that?”
Remus sipped at the hot liquid Severus had pushed toward him in the chipped porcelain mug. He was still uncomfortable that he hadn’t been allowed to get dressed this morning even if he agreed that he needed to stay in bed. It might be better for his sanity if there was more between parts of him and the open air than a thin, rather dirty cotton sheet.
“That’s the second time although this last full moon was rather erratic. The wolf wasn’t fond of the pain and I distinctly remember throwing myself against a wall to see if that made it better.” He didn’t miss the eye roll but decided to concentrate all his energy at blowing away steam coming off the smelly drink.
“Have you been taking the Wolfsbane? There should have been enough left over from the last batch to see you through this winter solstice.”
Remus cleared his throat. “It didn’t seem to make much difference. My body has had a hard time resolving itself back to normal after my experience with the clan.”
Holding his breath, Remus dared to lift his eyes but it was a struggle. He was used to the veiled looks from Tonks when this subject was brought up, or the white-faced grimaces of pain from the Weasley clan. He and Severus hadn’t discussed this problem other than as a Potions Master asking questions to determine the effectiveness of his work.
“Has the pain ebbed or been constant?” Severus was refusing to meet his eyes, looking steadfastly at his notes instead. The long, tapered fingers clutched at his writing quill and Remus wondered if it would break with much more pressure.
“Constant pain but it does surge when I think of… when I’ve worked too hard.”
The calculating glance rose and pierced through his words, instantly finding what he was really saying. “When you think of-“
“The past,” Remus interrupted. He hadn’t been the one to ignore these emotions all these years, growling and glaring as if it had been horrible to think of. As if he had been horrible to think of. No one really, truly wanted to admit they loved a werewolf.
Severus nodded, dropping his eyes back to his infernal notes. “And the past makes you upset?”
“No, the present upsets me. I miss the past. It was much calmer, much more sane.” This was the part of the conversation where he should have started to feel the bite of pain but there was nothing. Talking of such things always made his hear beat fast and that always brought on a wave of torment. Maybe this smelly stuff was doing the trick and Severus would be able to make his last days free of pain. “Whatever you gave me is keeping it at bay.”
Instantly Severus was standing in front of him, his hand tight on Remus’ wrist as he struggled to find a pulse. “I didn’t give you anything for chest pain. You’ve been poisoned.”
“Poisoned? I had to endure a Ministry examination as soon as I got back from the clan. Wouldn’t they have caught something like that?”
The chuckle was throaty and rusty from disuse. “They didn’t catch your chest pain. Why would those morons catch something as subtle as poison if it took three tests for me to figure out what was going on?”
“They did know about the chest pain,” Remus said quietly, using his free hand to trace a restless pattern on the covers so that it didn’t move up to work on the buttons staring at him. If they were to drop open, the expanse of chest would be visible once again. There was a myriad of scars he knew he could trace, some he’d help put there. “The last Healer told me it was just my heart giving out. He said the werewolf was too much for my body.”
Severus bent down so their eyes were lined up. This also lined up other things, but Remus forced himself to concentrate on the black eyes, grey now as the light was bright in the bedroom. “They told you that your heart was giving out? That you were dying?”
Remus nodded, not eager to shock anyone with the truth. He hadn’t admitted it to Tonks or the Weasleys, figuring that his death would tell them enough of what they needed to know. Fast, quick, and somewhat painless, they’d be left with only their memories of him. He hoped that would be enough because that was all he was leaving behind.
This time the chuckle escalated to a full-blown laugh, complete with watering eyes and ending sigh. “They really are morons if they thought that, but I must admit that I can see where they got their data from. If the poison had stayed unabated in your system, you would have died within a matter of days. It wasn’t necessarily targeting your heart but it was one of the muscles that was affected. A few more days of the potion I’ve been cramming down your gullet and you should be back to full health.”
At the awkward smile that Severus was beaming at him, Remus discovered that not all his muscles had been affected. The nearness of this man after such a long absence combined with the good news were working wonders on parts of Remus he had thought long dead. Not just the obvious things, the one that had been asserting itself since he had found himself alone in a bed that smelled of Severus, but the part of him where hope had once lived.
“You saved my life.”
“And you owe me a life-debt.”
A shiver started deep in his stomach and worked its way out. Of all the people he had owed in his life, and they amounted to legion, this was one man he didn’t mind being in debt to, especially not a debt that would require such a payment. This, he remembered, was what a dream felt like.
“One I’ll gladly pay back.”
One button undone and Severus didn’t flinched. Another one popped loose under the duress of Remus’ shaking fingers. When the shirt was completely undone, Remus let the pads of his hand wander over the smooth skin of the man’s chest. It was warmer than his imagination had believed, burning as if with its own fever.
“This is not part of our debt.” Severus hesitated before running his free hand along Remus’ jaw, his thumb finding a canine tooth and smoothing over the abrasive edge. “I didn’t save you to have you throw yourself at me in payment.”
“I would have thrown myself at you sooner or later, life-debt or no. It was just a matter of time.”
“You would have asked last time. As I remember, you did.”
Remus remembered that time with little shame. That was who he’d been at the time. There had been no deaths, no war, no poison making a home in his body. Each of those things made him stronger and more sure of himself so that this type of situation didn’t make him the emotional wreck as it had last time. This time, instead of waiting for permission, he did what he wanted to do, no questions asked.
Characters: Lupin/Snape
Rating: R for situation
Word Count: 3192
Author’s Note: Written for the express wishes of
innerslytherin (for her lyric challenge) using the song “There to Here” by East to West:He said I wish you could have known me
When I was young enough to dream
The world was mine to change
At least that’s the way it seemed
And I’m not sure when it happened
But all the hope just disappeared
And it’s been a long long way from there to here
This is not my usual fare but I enjoyed this pairing.
Remus couldn’t shake the haunted feeling deep in his gut. Even though everything was being dealt with (he’d checked and double checked with every member of the Order), he couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
As he paced the small room he’d been staying in these last months, recouping from the ordeal with the werewolves before he tried to enter decent society once again, Remus tried to make sense of his battered emotions. Now that Albus was dead, he didn’t have any one to talk this out with or run to for advice. If the death of Sirius, his best friend and confidant, had shaken his world, the death of his mentor had blow a hole clear through his heart. The wise old man had encouraged him to admit and embrace the part of him where the werewolf lived, even to the extent of living among the clan to help out the Order.
For the very first time, he’d understood what Severus had dealt with for all these years. In order to gain admittance, he’d had to shove down everything about his soul that was good and decent… and human. Pretending to fit in with the Death Eaters couldn’t be any worse than being an inhuman werewolf every hour of the day.
He’d finally dealt with Tonks, hoping his final words would convince her that he was not the man she thought he was. She wanted a connection to Sirius, thinking Remus would be able to connect her back to her family, when all she needed to do was admit what was right in front of her eyes. Sirius had been her mother’s favorite cousin and Tonks had never felt as if she could live up to the expectations for a perfect daughter whose blood flowed Black. Marrying him was not going to resurrect Sirius anymore than it was going to please Andromeda.
While her tears had been difficult to handle, he’d sent her off with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to eat better. The pain in his chest had abated somewhat even though he felt horrible for breaking her heart. It had been for the best. He was not the man for her, although he sincerely hoped they could continue to be friends. A friend was a valuable commodity these days, considering his were dropping away like shed fur. First, James, Lily and Sirius. Now Dumbledore… and Severus.
A sharp pain in his heart sent Remus to the floor, his hand clutching at the worn cotton of his shirt. “Accio,” he croaked, calling over his wand. None of the spells he could remember did anything for the pain. It was worse than he’d ever experienced and a flicker of fear coursed through him as he realized his heart was finally giving out. Letting the werewolf take over for so long had taken a heavy toll on his body while thinking of his friends and the stress of his situation lately had likely been a trigger. Maybe it truly was possible to die of a broken heart….
“Our last contact with him was four and a half weeks ago. Unless you have any better ideas, I don’t think our efforts should be wasted toward this goal.” Arthur shrugged and tried to look sympathetic. It was hard for the normally jovial man to feel anything for Severus after the cold way the man had always treated him. Now he was no longer their problem, much to the satisfaction of most of the Order of the Phoenix.
Remus shuffled the papers on the table in front of him, trying to hide his irritation. He’d convinced Arthur to set up a team to look for Severus but they came back with excuse after excuse as to why he was eluding them. Just because the man was a talented wizard didn’t mean he was a genius at camouflage. He was out there somewhere. Remus just hoped he was safe.
“Do you need to go see a Healer, Remus? You look like you’re in pain and you keep rubbing at your chest.”
Arthur’s concern brought him out of his reverie. “No, I’m fine. My body is still adjusting back to normal. This last full moon was more intense than ever before.”
When Arthur turned that ghastly shade of pale at the mention of the full moon, Remus got to his feet and pretended to have somewhere else to go. It was a genuine surprise that the Weasley’s still counted him a friend after what Bill had been through. He was healing nicely and would be ready to walk down the aisle in two weeks time with barely a scratch – except the ones on the inside that Remus suspected were deeper than the young man would admit.
There were other things to do, that was for sure, so his excuse was not in vain. If none of the rest of them could sniff out Severus, he would do it. The reports were incomplete until they were able to give sufficient cause that they’d done all they could do to help out the man who’d gone so successfully undercover.
It took him all of two days of constant surveillance to discover the whereabouts of the Potions Master and his young charge. Draco was paler than usual but looked no worse off for his flight. He’d have to ask why the boy wasn’t disguised more but knew that Severus was keeping an eye on him as he saw fit.
Severus, on the other hand, looked horrible. His pale skin was almost translucent under the light of the moon, his greasy hair looking dull and uncared for. Now that he had shed the black robes he was known for, the dark trousers and thick jumper made him look oddly shaped. The robes had always given him an elegance and dignity that he now lacked, looking instead like a bent old man.
A new burst of pain constricted his chest but Remus refused to give into it. Instead, he moved forward to check on the protection spell guarding the house the two had just left. It was well guarded and not many wizards would have been able to think of all the spells Severus had in his arsenal to use, but he was a creature of habit even if he didn’t realize it. After three unsuccessful tries, Remus walked through the gate and redid the protection spells, adding a few of his own that he would strengthen when they returned from their midnight jaunt.
The fire in the study had been banked and he coaxed it back into a cheerful blaze, setting himself up with a snifter of brandy and one of the thick tomes Severus always had on hand. Three quarters of an hour later, he heard the front door squeak open. Since no cry of alarm had been sounded, he assumed that Severus had indeed noticed his own signature protection spell and would make him wait until he was ready to admit his presence.
The wait wasn’t long. Another half hour passed before the door swung open. “Enjoying my liquor, are you?”
“I wouldn’t say enjoying. This stuff comes as close to rot gut as any I’ve tasted,” Remus responded back pleasantly, holding the glass up to the flickering firelight. The red fire he saw within the glass was a pleasant mirror for the man standing behind him, black eyes narrowed and stormy. A couple of years back, he would have kept silent in the face of the man’s anger, not sure how to react and not wanting to make it worse.
“You should know,” the man grumbled, laying down on the couch with a weary sigh, “since you gave it to me.”
“Never tell anyone I have good taste, then, because this stuff is vile. I was lucky to find a good book so the time hasn’t been a complete waste.”
Silence cloaked the room in a warm fog that smothered the senses. Remus felt the absence of sound as if it was another presence in the room, not wanting to bother it if Severus preferred it this way. He might not get many quiet nights like this. Remus, on the other hand, was becoming quite comfortable with these sorts of lonely experiences now that he was fast succeeding in running off all his friends.
“Your men have gotten even more incompetent of late. They passed me on the street and never batted an eye. Did everyone completely forget what I looked like or were they looking for another Severus Snape?”
Since Remus had assumed the other man had fallen asleep, he found himself chuckling uncomfortably until he could gather his thoughts. “They see what they want to see. I have my suspicions that I was the only who really wanted to find you. If you and your charge turn up, you’d probably create more of a headache for everybody involved.”
“Nice to know where I rank,” Severus muttered, his hands behind his head so that he could gaze into the fire comfortably. Now that Remus was looking over toward him, he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man. The sweater had ridden up his torso so that an expanse of extremely pale skin teased his memory. There would be little hair, he remembered, and it would be much warmer than it looked.
“Have they started to look for him?”
Remus shook his head, wishing the room was cooler so he could concentrate on this initial conversation. If this was to be all business, he would need to keep his wits so that he didn’t give away the true state of things. Better for both of them that they not know that Narcissa had been admitted to St. Mungo’s after collapsing at a formal dinner. When Arthur had arrived on the scene, he’d heard her garbled account of unbreakable vows, blood curses and general chaos that could only involve Death Eaters. That sort of thing was a bit taboo in the nicer circles and wasn’t the kind of thing to help either Draco or Severus. At present, things were still bleak for the two of them – from both sides of this fight.
“When did I become a byproduct of the war?” Severus muttered. Remus broke out of the trance and glanced away from the man’s chest to the haunted eyes no longer staring at the fire. “When I was a child, I was consumed with tales of knights and warriors. Not only were they larger than life, but they made a difference to the world around them. Everyone knew who they were. In their wake, they left a sense of hope to all who followed after them. I miss having hope.”
“You’ve made a difference to your students.” As platitudes went, this was one of the best. Vague but with a trace of reality so that it sounded so much better than it was. The cold, black eyes acknowledged both the positive and negative sentiments, but never lost the spark of despair. Nothing he chose to say could erase that. Not even admitting the difference Severus made in his life would help.
The wave of pain surprised him. If he was missing this man enough that his body rebelled at not being near him, shouldn’t the pain ease if he was near by?
“What is it?” The voice was near his ear, the gaze much closer now that he was trying to read the pain. “Are you ill?”
Remus wanted to shake his head like he did to everyone else, assuring him that it was nothing, it was something he’d eaten earlier, it was merely a twinge of over exertion. He could do nothing but pant as another shot of white-hot torment left him shaking and weak. It had never been this bad. Surely, one did not die of a broken heart in front of the person one craved like air, food and water.
“Christ, Lupin! You’re burning with fever.”
He was barely conscious of the arms under his shoulders and knees, slightly more aware of the heart beating against his arm but he wasn’t sure if the words he heard were real or simply part of the dream world he found himself slipping into….
“How often have you lost consciousness like that?”
Remus sipped at the hot liquid Severus had pushed toward him in the chipped porcelain mug. He was still uncomfortable that he hadn’t been allowed to get dressed this morning even if he agreed that he needed to stay in bed. It might be better for his sanity if there was more between parts of him and the open air than a thin, rather dirty cotton sheet.
“That’s the second time although this last full moon was rather erratic. The wolf wasn’t fond of the pain and I distinctly remember throwing myself against a wall to see if that made it better.” He didn’t miss the eye roll but decided to concentrate all his energy at blowing away steam coming off the smelly drink.
“Have you been taking the Wolfsbane? There should have been enough left over from the last batch to see you through this winter solstice.”
Remus cleared his throat. “It didn’t seem to make much difference. My body has had a hard time resolving itself back to normal after my experience with the clan.”
Holding his breath, Remus dared to lift his eyes but it was a struggle. He was used to the veiled looks from Tonks when this subject was brought up, or the white-faced grimaces of pain from the Weasley clan. He and Severus hadn’t discussed this problem other than as a Potions Master asking questions to determine the effectiveness of his work.
“Has the pain ebbed or been constant?” Severus was refusing to meet his eyes, looking steadfastly at his notes instead. The long, tapered fingers clutched at his writing quill and Remus wondered if it would break with much more pressure.
“Constant pain but it does surge when I think of… when I’ve worked too hard.”
The calculating glance rose and pierced through his words, instantly finding what he was really saying. “When you think of-“
“The past,” Remus interrupted. He hadn’t been the one to ignore these emotions all these years, growling and glaring as if it had been horrible to think of. As if he had been horrible to think of. No one really, truly wanted to admit they loved a werewolf.
Severus nodded, dropping his eyes back to his infernal notes. “And the past makes you upset?”
“No, the present upsets me. I miss the past. It was much calmer, much more sane.” This was the part of the conversation where he should have started to feel the bite of pain but there was nothing. Talking of such things always made his hear beat fast and that always brought on a wave of torment. Maybe this smelly stuff was doing the trick and Severus would be able to make his last days free of pain. “Whatever you gave me is keeping it at bay.”
Instantly Severus was standing in front of him, his hand tight on Remus’ wrist as he struggled to find a pulse. “I didn’t give you anything for chest pain. You’ve been poisoned.”
“Poisoned? I had to endure a Ministry examination as soon as I got back from the clan. Wouldn’t they have caught something like that?”
The chuckle was throaty and rusty from disuse. “They didn’t catch your chest pain. Why would those morons catch something as subtle as poison if it took three tests for me to figure out what was going on?”
“They did know about the chest pain,” Remus said quietly, using his free hand to trace a restless pattern on the covers so that it didn’t move up to work on the buttons staring at him. If they were to drop open, the expanse of chest would be visible once again. There was a myriad of scars he knew he could trace, some he’d help put there. “The last Healer told me it was just my heart giving out. He said the werewolf was too much for my body.”
Severus bent down so their eyes were lined up. This also lined up other things, but Remus forced himself to concentrate on the black eyes, grey now as the light was bright in the bedroom. “They told you that your heart was giving out? That you were dying?”
Remus nodded, not eager to shock anyone with the truth. He hadn’t admitted it to Tonks or the Weasleys, figuring that his death would tell them enough of what they needed to know. Fast, quick, and somewhat painless, they’d be left with only their memories of him. He hoped that would be enough because that was all he was leaving behind.
This time the chuckle escalated to a full-blown laugh, complete with watering eyes and ending sigh. “They really are morons if they thought that, but I must admit that I can see where they got their data from. If the poison had stayed unabated in your system, you would have died within a matter of days. It wasn’t necessarily targeting your heart but it was one of the muscles that was affected. A few more days of the potion I’ve been cramming down your gullet and you should be back to full health.”
At the awkward smile that Severus was beaming at him, Remus discovered that not all his muscles had been affected. The nearness of this man after such a long absence combined with the good news were working wonders on parts of Remus he had thought long dead. Not just the obvious things, the one that had been asserting itself since he had found himself alone in a bed that smelled of Severus, but the part of him where hope had once lived.
“You saved my life.”
“And you owe me a life-debt.”
A shiver started deep in his stomach and worked its way out. Of all the people he had owed in his life, and they amounted to legion, this was one man he didn’t mind being in debt to, especially not a debt that would require such a payment. This, he remembered, was what a dream felt like.
“One I’ll gladly pay back.”
One button undone and Severus didn’t flinched. Another one popped loose under the duress of Remus’ shaking fingers. When the shirt was completely undone, Remus let the pads of his hand wander over the smooth skin of the man’s chest. It was warmer than his imagination had believed, burning as if with its own fever.
“This is not part of our debt.” Severus hesitated before running his free hand along Remus’ jaw, his thumb finding a canine tooth and smoothing over the abrasive edge. “I didn’t save you to have you throw yourself at me in payment.”
“I would have thrown myself at you sooner or later, life-debt or no. It was just a matter of time.”
“You would have asked last time. As I remember, you did.”
Remus remembered that time with little shame. That was who he’d been at the time. There had been no deaths, no war, no poison making a home in his body. Each of those things made him stronger and more sure of himself so that this type of situation didn’t make him the emotional wreck as it had last time. This time, instead of waiting for permission, he did what he wanted to do, no questions asked.
