Fan Fiction ❯ Starfall, Moonset ❯ Sound and Fury ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: not mine, if they were I wouldn't be a poor college student

Starfall, Moonset

By: Irish

Chapter Four: Sound and Fury

A week passed in stony silence. The only words spoken between them those of dire function 'pass the butter' and 'where's the salt'. Remus cooked for them most evenings, generally some kind of soup, as that was his normal diet and it was what Remus thought would settle best in Sirius's stomach. Feeding the two of them his staples were running out quickly and he was becoming worried about feeding them both. Remus did the best he could to make the soups go further, using an old trick he learned from his mother and adding dumplings to everything. Dumplings were little more then flour and water made into a paste, and flour was cheap and lasted for a long time. Remus also made biscuits after the same fashion, but by Friday, he was combining soup bones from past meals hoping that there would be enough to flavor the water and make it broth. The silence was starting to stretch just as thin.

The silence weighed on him heavily, built small annoyances into large resentments, built scar into gapping wounds. Each hour they passed by with words unspoken was another lash of the whip. As far as Remus could tell Padfoot didn't mind, but Remus felt as though he were slowly going mad. The final descent of a slope he had started to slip down since his first change.

As the old, spent soup bones sat in the simmering water with the last ragtag ends of turkey and chicken meat, as much fat as anything, Remus slipped into his bedroom, a place he had barely set foot in since Sirius had arrived and taken it over. He opened the closet and dug out the old leather case, held together with spell-o-tape, bumper stickers and a prayer. He laid the case on his unmade bed, the puff of air that rose from the mattress smelling heavily of Sirius. Clicking open the three small latches he cracked the case, laying over the lid on the bed and lifting out the well tended six string. He lifted it from its stained velvet bed, sliding the braided strap across his chest so the guitar lay across his back. He shut the case and moved across the room and through the cabin, seating himself on the creaking wooden porch.

Remus was from a wizarding family, not unlike the Weaslie's, too many, too proud, and too poor. Too poor to buy the silence of others about Remus's affliction, too many to go unnoticed, and too proud to take charity when it was needed. Remus had inherited that pride as sure as he inherited his gaunt frame and tawny hair. After he had graduated from Hogwarts, he had learned that, eventually it was found out exactly what he was, and was pushed to the very fringes of wizarding society, but unwilling to take the charity offered from Dumbledor has Hagrid had, he had learned to live at the edge of muggle society as well, keeping a foot in each world.

He had discovered many things that he truly adored about the muggle world. One was cooking, by hand, with no help from magic but a few simple appliances. Another was their music, a love he had developed even in his Hogwarts years, listening to the muggle children's cassette tapes on a gerry-rigged tape player, as much magic as muggle. It was those songs; simple folky songs that came to mind as he sat down on his front porch bring the guitar into his lap, his hands finding its smooth wood and tight strings. He strummed once, with the pad of his thumb, wincing at discord. He tuned carefully, going by ear, his tuning fork lost somewhere along the way. When he was satisfied he smiled slightly and finger picked a couple riffs, improving a bit. His instinct was to play something melancholy and crooning, but he shoved the urge aside. No wallowing. He cleared his throat and his plucking took on a more certain tone.

"Well I'm aiming for heaven…. But probably wind up down in hell, where upon this altar I will hang my guilt ridden head, but its time I'll take before I begin, three sheets to the wind, three sheets to the wind. Rebels are we, though heavy our hearts shall always be…. And no ball or chain prison shall keep, were the rebels of the sacred heart." IT was a quick paced song of Irish Rebellion, that took a lot of concentration to play and was fast enough to make his arm sore as he tore the hell out of this thumb making the strings shout. As he came to the last verse is slowed slightly, allowing him to catch his breath and rest his arm before blasting into the very last line. When the song was finished he fell back on the splintery porch catching his breath, smiling slightly to himself. His mother had been of the Irish Republic, and though he steered clear of the whole mess himself, he had the heart of an Irish rebel, and the song reminded him of the Marauders. Clearing his throat, he toned it down; giving in to the more relaxed folk sound that was his usual style.

He played the sun down, singing his heart and mind calm, and his throat raw. By the time he stood up again, his hips creaked dangerously and he almost found himself face first in his dooryard, but he managed to keep his balance. If the soup was ever going to be ready it would be ready now… and if it wasn't… then Remus supposed they would have water and vegetables… sort of a chunky tea. He leaned his guitar against the wall as he moved over to the kitchen, taking down two bowls that didn't match and two soupspoons; he added a glass and a napkin to each setting and declared the table set. He didn't need to call for Sirius to come to the table. He had been sitting on Remus couch cum bed and had stood when he had heard the clink of crockery.

Sirius said nothing as he sat in his usual place at the table and waited for Remus to serve him. Remus, though resenting Sirius's assumption that he would wait on him, also said nothing, ladling the weak looking stew into the dark haired mans bowl, then into his own… there would be enough for about a second half bowl. Thank god for dumplings.

Spoons clinked against bowls in silence, the same unending silence. The soup was somewhere between hot water and vegetables and soup. The extra salt he had added hid the worst of it, in fact Remus barely noticed.

"The soup is thin."

When Sirius spoke Remus almost spit the food item in question across the table, so startled was he. He let the silence linger a moment as he slowly turned his eyes to Sirius, heart beating hard in his chest as he resisted the urge to whip his bowl at the man.

"Thinner then what they gave you at Azkaban?" Remus snipped, eyes hard. Sirius's gray eyes rose to meet his, snapping with anger. It had been a low blow and Remus knew it, but one swift kick in the bollocks deserved another.

"Are you calling me ungrateful mate?" Sirius asked, deadly calm.

"But of course not. Just suggesting that if you were going to bitch and moan that you could either pitch in a bit for the groceries, or dry you arse." Remus replied politely.

There was a beat. Neither moved nor spoke, neither blinked, each body tense and waiting. Then time snapped. A bowl flew across the room and shattered in a spray of soup against a far wall, the light table was upturned, and the rest of the crockery crashed to the floor. Remus had processed each action in turn but before he could draw his wand, Sirius tackled him to the floor and the length of wood went skittering across the linoleum.

Remus hit the floor with a thud, Sirius atop him, one bony hand on his throat, the other cuffing him across the face. The werewolf didn't take time to think about his actions, he arched his hips, with a hard upward thrust bucking Sirius off balance as he pitched his weight to the side, rolling so he now sat straddled atop of Sirius, his own hand drew back of its own volition, the back of his hand cracking Sirius's lips, his other hand lashing roughly in Sirius's hair, controlling his head with it.

They grappled rolling across the floor, each trying to keep the upper hand as they rolled over shards of crockery and over cooked vegetables.

"Oy! Cut it out!" Remus yelped as his head was slammed into the floor, his elbow caught Sirius in the stomach.

"Oof! Lay off!" Soup soaked through their clothes, as they bumped into the over turned table, legs and hands grappling for dominance. They were a fairly even match in weight, in a way they wouldn't have been for Sirius's stint in Azkaban, but Remus who was simply stronger right now won out, pinning Sirius's hands over his head, his legs pinning Padfoot's.

Remus growled low in his throat a sneer of triumph marring his lips as his cheek started to swell and bruise from the hits Sirius had gotten in.

"Remus, let me up!" Sirius suddenly felt a band of panic tighten across his chest, he was pinned he couldn't escape, next they would rip his clothes off, he had to get away! "Let me up!"

"No way! You broke my dishes! Its not like I have piles of them lying around you know. Not all of us grew up in the Black Mansion." Remus panted, missing the not e of panic in his ex lover's voice.

"Fuck! Moony! Fuck! Let me up… god, please let me up!" Sirius thrashed under him wildly. Wide-eyed Remus scrambled off him.

"Jesus, Siri, I'm sorry I didn't think-" The sentence was cut off, and so nearly, was the tip of Remus's tongue as Sirius fist smashed into his face. Remus felt the bone of his nose crunch and he reeled backwards, hands coming over his face as he felt a hot gush of blood poor from his nose, filling his mouth and sinuses.

The world hitched and spun as he slumped to the floor fighting the rolling tide of darkness washing again and again over his eyes, turning his world to haze and silence. He didn't remember scrambling away, but when his vision and hearing started to come back, he found himself wedged in a corner, hands over his mouth and nose as though he could catch it and keep it from dripping into his robes.

Sirius watched in total and utter shock as deep-wine blood flowed between Moony's fingers. It wasn't a drip, or an ooze; it was a flood, the front of his shirt starting to soak through with the leakage from the wizard's hands. He had done that, he had the ache in his knuckles to prove that to himself, but he didn't remember it.

"Jesus…God, Remmy, shit, I'm so sorry…" Sirius rambled as he scuttled across the kitchen floor after the tawny haired man, avoiding the trail of blood he left.

"Fug oo." Remus replied mushily from behind his hands.

"Yes, fine, but let's get this taken care of first, god, I didn't even realize… I didn't mean to…." Sirius couldn't help but ramble as snagged a dishtowel from the counter. Remus swatted at his hands twice with a bloody palm, but Sirius dodged easily enough. Finally Remus subsided, just leaning back as Padfoot folded the cloth over his nose, cupping it there with tender fingers, his other hand supporting the back of Remus's tawny head.

"I'm so sorry Remmy. Truly… I didn't even know it was you, I didn't even know I had done it." Sirius's heart was still pounding in his chest. Something had serious gone shite to shingle. The fingers of the hand supporting Remus's head stroked sweaty locks of hair, as the towel started to bleed through. "Oh hell… Remmy… I hurt you badly…. Is it broken?'

"I fing fo."

"You think so?"

Remus nodded. Sirius broke off into a long string of curses and swears that made Remus blush, and he was certainly no virgin by any stretch of the imagination.

"Can I use your wand to fix you up? I won't hurt you, I promise…. I'm sorry Remmy, I just snapped… I just… I didn't know it was you…." Sirius fumbled for the wand, snatching it up. "Hold still, just a moment.''

Remus sighed as he just leaned back against the wall, his bloody hands lounging listlessly on the floor. He felt the blood run down over his lips and did his best not to lick it away. He didn't favour the taste of his own blood, or any, but it was a hard impulse to resist. Sirius pointed the wand at his listing nose.

"Um… septus repairo?" Sirius suggested. Remus winced knowing what came of that particular half-baked spell was going to be unpleasant. His nose straightened into its original position with a sickening crunch and grind. Remus grunted, trying not to scream, the sound and feeling of his nose sliding back to normal was worse then the actual pain. A rigid brace and a series of bandages lashed themselves over Remus's nose, locking it in place.

"Well at least it didn't fall off." He muttered to himself.

"Shit… I'm bollixing this all up… was that too bad? I know it's not great but its better then it was right? Here…" He started to wipe the blood from Remus's face with tender hands, muttering 'shit' repeatedly under his breath as he cleaned away the worst of it.

"Stop, Sirius, stop for the love of Merlin, before you make it any worse." Remus groaned. His face throbbed in a hundred places; Sirius was looking pretty chewed up himself. "Listen… this isn't going well. We are going to kill each other. I should have known, should have listened to Dumbledor. I will send an owl to him in the morning, so he can find another place to hide you. This isn't working." The werewolf sat up and pulled off his blood soaked shirt and dropped it to the side, wiping his hands off on it.

"Wait? What? You want me to leave?" Sirius's heart hadn't had time to fully settle in his chest before it started throbbing frantically again, a sinking feeling coming over him.

"You don't want to be here." Remus said with a shrug as he started to get carefully to his feet, wincing. H moved over to the icebox and pulled open the freezer. He tossed an ice back to Sirius and dumped some ice cubes in a plastic bag for himself, stumbling across the kitchen to his couch and flopping down unceremoniously. Sirius followed quickly, sitting on the floor his back against the couch.

Sirius was starting to see he had fucked this up, in a real big way. Even if he couldn't be lovers with Remus again… he needed a friend right now, needed one more then he needed anything else. If he didn't have some one to lean on right now, even a little, he wouldn't make it through. He would probably kill himself, or go stark raving mad, or just die.

"You are right Remus… I thought I didn't…. I thought, mistakenly, that I would be better on my own. The dementors Remmy… they pollute your mind… turn everything that once was your safety net into a row of spikes. That fear of betrayal they placed in me, is obviously still working."

"You can't blame the dementors for every bad thing you do for the rest of your life." The bag of ice that was currently Remus's face said.

"I'm not. It's my own stupidity for buying into it. Remus, I need you, as a friend. I know that, because when you talked, just now, of turning me out… you might as well have stabbed me… I mean, not that you don't have every right to… because I have been an arse… and I will continue to be an arse, but right this moment, I am motivated, mostly by fear, to be bang on honest with you. Do you understand me?" Sirius was speaking very quickly, wanting to get this all out before the fear faded to numbness and he no longer cared. "I am begging you Remus… as broken as I am, dead begging you, not to turn me out, to have patients with me to help me in spite of myself. Please? Please Remus?"

That bloody fucking self centred arse hole. Remus growled in his mind, as his heart was tugged and twisted, and bent from shape. He couldn't say no to that. No matter what it cost him, he was too loyal, and too much in love, to deny that plea. He wasn't Judas.

"Aye, fine, yeh fookin' arse. I am goin'tah live tah regret dis."

Sirius winced as the cultured mostly British accent he normally affected lifted into a lilting west Irish accent that was Remus's true tone, he had really pissed the man off. He knelt next to the couch, lifting the ice bag carefully from Remus's face.

"Thank you Remus… you've saved my life, again. I will repay you, someday." He bent and kissed the pale forehead that was icy to the touch.

"I will just put it on your tab. Now put the ice back on my face so I don't have to look at yours."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I don't know what to do Dumbledor… I just don't know. The man has some serious issues, and my own unrequited love isn't helping the bloody situation!" Remus stormed as he paced the head masters office.

"Mind you language, please, Remus, this is unlike you." The aging wizard said softly as he watched the werewolf beat a path in the floor.

"Sorry headmaster… but… I don't know what to do." Remus raked a hand through his hair roughly, sending it askew. He strode to the chair in front of Albus's desk and sat in it with purpose, as though willing himself to hold still. It didn't work, his left leg immediately started to jump and jitter. Remus folded his hands over it to help keep himself still as he looked at the beard across from him, hoping for wisdom and guidance. Talking to Albus was a bit like talking to god… or maybe it was just the beard.

"You are in a very tough spot, Remus, very tough indeed. But it is not the first. There are other things jading this issue, are there not?"

Remus took a deep breath. "I still love him. I know you knew that, but… I remember waking up every morning… for years, and hoping that when I went down to the kitchen, he would be there, drinking coffee and reading the paper. I went to bed every night praying that… some evidence would be found, that he would be cleared, that I would have my friends and lover back, or at least one of them. But….Albus… there never was, no one came back… until now."

"But it wasn't the reunion you expected?" One white caterpillar eyebrow rose.

"It was what I expected, but not what I wanted. We've spent the last week not even on speaking terms. He broke my nose the other day…"

"He hit you?" The other furry caterpillar jointed the first.

"No, I mean yes, but not like that… we got in a row… just a harmless boys tussle… but I pinned him… he snapped… They did things to him in Azkaban." Remus's sighed and caught his hand on the way up to rake through his hair again. He stopped it and returned it to his lap; if he didn't stop tearing through his hair like that he would go bald.

"Yes… the Dementors didn't used to be allowed to do that. Times have changed." Albus sighed and shook his head. Remus had a feeling though that despite the calm gesture, the old Wizard had had more then row with the ministry over the issue.

"He needs me but he doesn't want me. I love him yet, headmaster."

"Remus…. Dear Remus, I remember you when you were nothing but skinned knees and torn robes. I have seen you over come the impossible. I have seen you become a man, with an integrity and honesty that I have seen exemplified in only a very few, and you have done it in spite the Wizarding Worlds worst prejudges. I have utter faith in your ability."

Remus felt tears well in his eyes, tears that had been absent for ten years or more; a well that he thought fully tapped brimming anew. "You know just what you are doing don't you? You play with our lives… my life. I know you hold genuine tenderness for Harry… as you did for his father and godfather, but you move us like pieces on a board, rooks and knights and bishops… and me. The pawn. You know what you do and you hide it behind a big beard and soft eyes. But I have always been your tool and crusade, and you know I will do what you wish with out you asking… because you have given me some semblance of respect and left me my dignity, and so pitiful am I that I will subsist on that. But do not tell me you have always had my best interest at heart, I would not have you perjure yourself and my intelligence." Remus took a deep breath and steadied himself, hands now gripping the arms of his chair as he looked beyond the white hair that was the wizards face, body tense.

"My denial will do neither of us any good, because you would not believe it and it would not be whole truth. I have had to make many decisions not for the good of one, but for the good of all. But don't be fool in thinking you were with out say, you have always been given a choice." Dumbledor said evenly, his voice steady and gentle as he looked over the rims of his half moon glasses.

"And what choice is there in desperation?" Remus shot back, jaw so tight his teeth hurt.

"And I would ask you the same. What choice is there in desperation and in desperate times? We all do our best Remus." Dumbledor brushed his hands together as though washing away the issue, passing it off, letting it go. He picked up a pouch from the corner of his desk and looked at it, then at Remus.

"Don't you dare give that to me." Remus growled, hearing the galleons clinking inside.

"Do not further insult me-"

"No. Do not further insult me, Remus. I think you have said entirely enough today. I know how you feel about charity, and I give you none. These are galleons from Sirius bank vault, you used to let him contribute in half to the household, as I recall, has that changed?"

"No." Remus slumped back in his chair, closing his eyes. Check and mate.

"Good. Then here. You are feeding both of you after all. And I doubt the odd jobs you do for the neighbouring farms will cover both your continued sustenance. I will send a sum by owl from Sirius's vault once a month." Dumbledor held out the pouch and Remus took it, slipping it into his robes. "Is there anything else you feel that needs to be said, Remus?"

Remus looked over the old man, ginger eyes taking in his god like visage. "Yes. I am sorry headmaster… I let my mouth run faster then my brain. My apologise."

"No apology necessary. Life has been no easier on you then it has on any of us… maybe less so. I do have faith in you.''

"Thank you sir." Remus stood on weak knees. "Have a good day."

"You as well Remus, you as well."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"What would you like for dinner? We have groceries… not steak or anything, mind, but enough ingredients for things other then soup." Remus asked from where he stood surveying the cupboards.

"Do we have some pasta, maybe?" Sirius asked hopefully, peering over the back of the couch where he was sprawled. "Or potatoes?"

"Pasta, potatoes, rice, vegetables, ground beef, stew meat, chicken, corn meal…"

"How about just chicken breasts or something, with rice and vegetables." Sirius suggested.

The facsimile of normalcy that they were living under was a good site better then the cold war of the week before, but it wasn't comfortable, not really. The had fallen into some sort of schedule, as much as could be had when Remus's work consisted of mucking stalls and hauling hay for the surrounding farms. Just enough to keep himself in clothes and food. Albus had not insulted him by giving him an extravagant amount of wizarding money, his budgeting would have to be careful, but that part he was used to.

They addressed each other with painful formality a careful dance around the shattered eggshells of their former life together. No more Remmy and Siri, or Padfoot and Moony. Only Sirius and Remus… or sometimes 'mate' in their more casual moments. They still spoke rarely, largely out of lack of having any words to say to each other, no words to bridge the gap of years.

"Sure thing Mate." Remus nodded, moving about to gather the things for the requested meal. He heard Sirius rise from the couch; they often cooked the evening meal together in a certain nostalgic way.

They moved around each other from stove to fridge, fridge to sink, carefully choreographed so not even their robes touched, never in a position that contact might become a possibility. The scent of the baking chicken and sautéing vegetables filled the small cabin as they continued their silent dance. The table was set, water was poured into clear glasses, the food was served, each sitting gracefully and unfolding their napkins on their lap like it was a formal dinner, and the silverware wasn't mismatched.

Remus got through three slowly chewed bites in silence before Sirius voice carried like thunder on the wind, the quiet, deep rolling, that took a moment to process and believe.

"You never came to see me in Azkaban."

Remus chewed the rice in his mouth carefully, as though it were a choking hazard and the question was unimportant, before answering, slowly. "Would you have wanted me to?"

"I don't know… it would have given me hope." Sirius shrugged, pushing around his vegetables.

"There is no hope in that place."

"There would have been if I had seen you."

A long pause stretched silence around the room as thick as stirred cream. Remus took a bite of chicken like dust in his mouth. He washed it down with bitter water. "And if it had been me in there?"

"I would not have come. You would have gone mad in days. The wolf…" Sirius trailed off, not sure if he was still allowed the privilege of speaking to that aspect to Remus's nature.

"I don't think I would have made it to Azkaban. I think I would have had an accident on the way there." Remus shrugged. "I thought you were guilty."

"I thought I was too."

"I don't know how to help you." Remus took another drink of water, washing down barely tasted vegetables.

"I don't know either… don't loose hope in me. I need your faith." Sirius swallowed convulsively.

"I have no faith to lend." Remus shrugged and stood bring his plate to the sink, standing there long, with his back to Sirius. "You have nightmares."

"You've stopped waking me from them." It was hard to tell if their was hurt in Sirius's voice. Remus suspected there was.

"I thought I was unwelcome."

"Yes. But when has that ever stopped you. You've never let others desires stop you from doing what you think needs to be done." Sirius stood as well, leaving his plate as he moved over to Remus, touching a patch of grey in ginger hair.

"Do not. Do not give me your touch when you will take it back in a moment." Remus's voice was soft, calm… agony.

"Will you give me yours then?" Sirius asked softly, almost pleaded, his breath held as he waited.

Remus turned to the man slowly, looking over the boy he once knew, grown to a man, and headed for middle age. He saw grey where it wasn't before, lines where it had once been smooth, bone where there had once been muscle… and pain where there had once been love.

"As if I could deny you anything." Remus whispered. His hand came up of its own volition, smoothing a stray strand from Sirius's face, before embracing him gently, tucking the mans head against his shoulder as he felt him tremble.

"Maybe you should." Sirius voice cracked on the edge of tears, his shoulders shook with barely bridled emotion.

"Never." Remus gathered him close in loose arms, so that Sirius wouldn't feel restrained. There was a soft breaking sound, a deep drawing of breath before Sirius trembled in silent tears as thunder rolled in the hills.

Authors Note: Yikes, well that took a bit o' time. I have no idea if its canon to have Remus be Irish, but, I wanted to so there :P We have no idea where Remus is from, so I don't see how it can be uncanon. Anyway, I also happen to be looking for a beta for my Sirius/Remus work. Anyone who wants the dubious honour, drop me a line gypsysenigma@aol.com . Thanks for your patients.