Faye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
said_scarlett) wrote2004-01-19 05:17 pm
said_scarlett) wrote2004-01-19 05:17 pm
(no subject)
Okay, so you know that fic that's been consuming my brain? Yeah, the one that I've been working on for weeks? I finally finished it! Twenty pages, finally done, unbeta'd at the moment I just want to get a reaction to it. Enjoy! Or not, whichever. ;-)
Title: Shelter From the Storm
Author: Lady Feylene
Pairing: Severus/Remus
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Remus is diagnosed with a potentially terminal lycanthropic disease and decides to make the most of what time he has left.
Remus Lupin sat, idly picking at a stray thread that had worked it’s way out of the rather loosely woven sleeve of his robes. He was in St Mungos, in a rather small private room, awaiting test results. He’d been there for what felt like an hour, and he was bored out of his mind.
He supposed he should have come sooner. The past few months, the pain of his transformations had been staying with him. At first it was nothing more than a lingering ache that had lasted a day or two longer than normal, but this time his bones and joints had screamed in fury for four days, and the pain was just now starting to fade. He supposed it could simply be age-even though forty five wasn’t that old-but he didn’t feel like living in agony. And so an appointment with Adrian Bowen had been made, and here he was.
The door opened, and Remus sat up straight, craning his head to watch the doctor carefully. The man was a very skilled healer, and one of the few who specialized in werewolves. And he was rather skilled at keeping his face blank. But scent was something else.
Bowen was nervous. And upset. Which Remus had been able to predict the moment he was asked to step into the little room. One wasn’t ushered aside and into private to be handed a vial and told ‘three drops a day will take care of the pain’. Something was wrong.
“Remus…” Bowen began, sitting down heavily.
“Spare me the long lead in,” Remus said with a small smile. “It’s bad news. I can take it.”
“I wish more of my patients were like you Remus. Have you ever heard of Madden’s Syndrome?”
“Er…no.” Remus shook his head. Lycanthropic diseases had never been a subject he’d spent much time researching.. He supposed, in hindsight, that he should have. But he hadn’t honestly thought he’d live long enough to fall prey to any serious illness’.
“It usually hits much younger than where you’re at now. I’ve rarely seen a case over the age of thirty five. It’s singular to lycanthropes who have been bitten, rather than born. You were born human, and your body retains a bit of that. Despite being bitten, sometimes…sometimes after a while, the changes just become too much.”
“That explains the pain…” Remus said slowly. He paused, hands folded as he waited for Bowen to give him the rest of the news.
“It’s not going to get any better Remus. Now don’t go thinking I’ve just signed your death warrant, but I’m not going to lie to you. Your body’s breaking down. It’s going to be a little bit worse each time you change. There are of course potions to help with the pain, and we’re expecting a breakthrough in treatment any day now…”
“But as it stands, all I can do is take painkiller’s and deal with it?” Remus shrugged. It could be worse, he supposed. Really, all things considered, this wasn’t that bad. Pain was nothing new.
“I’m sorry Remus.”
“Don’t be sorry, it’s hardly your fault. About…about how long is this going to last?”
“I don’t know. There’s no way to tell, really. You’re in good shape and other than this your healthy. It could be anywhere from six months to a few years. Maybe longer.”
“And the chances of that treatment breakthrough happening in the next few years?”
“High,” Bowen said. “Very high. Of course, the first treatments will be rather experimental…”
“But better than nothing.”
“Yes.”
Remus just nodded. What else could he do, really? It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but there was nothing to be done. And the outlook wasn’t bleak. Bowen hadn’t told him he’d be dead in a week. He had up to a few good years, with developments predicted in the meantime. A few more minutes and he had a bottle and scrip, and was sent on his way.
***
Waiting was the worst part. Remus changed nothing about his daily routine-which consisted of writing, mostly, with small breaks in between for food and the loo-and certainly didn’t tell anyone about this new development, but he knew. It was as if now that the pain had been given a name, he could feel it. Even though there was no pain he swore he heard a creak or felt a strain every time he moved.
The potion did help. Though he felt rather dependant, Wolfsbane before and the pain potion. It was a key in to Remus that the damn thing didn’t even have a common name, and actercaedometin was far too long a word to say. He was beginning to doubt those breakthroughs in modern healing Bowen had promised.
But it didn’t matter. When he awoke from his change, he was on fire, but a spoonful of his potion dulled it to an ache, until it faded completely. At least there was that. But still, the pain stayed in his mind. And he knew, with unshaken certainty, that his body was failing him. And sitting about while that happened was simply not having on with.
There was too much to do, he was realizing. He wanted to finish his book-it was nearly done-and he wanted to live. The war was two years won, and he hadn’t even truly enjoyed it. Not to the extent he should, at any rate. There were too many things, really.
It was a week after his change that he actually sat down to work out what he planned on doing. He poured a cup of tea, cut himself a slice of pie, and sat down in front of a quill and parchment.
Things to Do
Remus frowned thoughtfully at it.
Finish book.
That was the foremost thought in his mind. He felt he was nearly done. With luck ‘Once Bitten: Making a Healthy and Happy Adjustment to Lycanthropy’ would be helpful to those who were ushered into the same life he had been. He had one more chapter to write, now that he had a bit more information.
Visit America.
But America was rather large. He’d have to pick one part. And really, it was smelly and dirty and loud from what he knew. That was scratched off. Ten or so other things were written and scratched out, because he realized he had them already.
This was turning out to be more difficult than he’d thought. All in all, he’d had a good life. He’d fought in two world wars, and he’d buried more friends than most people made in a lifetime. What was left, really?
Severus.
***
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. What was the one thing he hadn’t even come close to doing? The one thing he wanted in his life that was missing? The thing he’d never had quite the courage to go after?
It had seemed so horribly romantic and fatalistic. Show up on Severus’ doorstep and profess his love. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof. But now, sitting in a small café and nursing a cup of cocoa ten miles away from Severus’ estate, it didn’t seem quite so brilliant.
What if Severus laughed at him? Or was cross? What if he simply turned him away without a word?
Some bloody Gryffindor. He finished the cup of cocoa, hefted his bag over his shoulder, and wandered out into the cold night. He stood, rubbing his hands together, and stared off in the direction of Severus’ home.
//I should just go.// Remus sighed, and would have turned and summoned the Knight Bus. If it hadn’t been for the seizure.
He didn’t know what else to call it. His body began trembling, and his knees buckled and gave way beneath him. He grabbed at the wall of the building, holding himself up with quite a bit of effort.
It only lasted a few seconds, but it left him breathless and shaking. He leaned heavily against the wall, gasping for breath. No one had seen him, or given him a second glance if they had. Dear Merlin, he hadn’t been prepared for that!
Nothing about his new physical complication had frightened him quite like that. It was vaguely reminiscent of his Changes, the very beginning. That tingling, that strange sensation that his body was no longer his. He tried to shake it off, and pushed himself upright. His legs were still trembling, but they’d hold him.
He wasn’t certain what Severus could do, but he had no desire to be alone after that little incident. If he needed medical treatment, he couldn’t very well get himself to the hospital. Taking small, slow steps, he made his way down the road to the edge of town. The Potions Master had an estate on the hill above town, out of the way but rather easy to reach.
The hill proved a bit difficult. Remus was panting and sweating heavily by the time he’d reached the top. He felt wards tingle and buzz about him as he passed through the open gate, obviously not seeing him as a danger.
Taking a moment, Remus surveyed Severus’ home. It wasn’t exactly what one would call expansive, but it was certainly impressive. Stone and ivy and far more cozy looking than anything Remus would have associated with the rather dour Potions Master. Taking a few deep breaths, he approached the door.
This was a mistake. The doubts and fears reared their ugly heads again. And what in Merlin’s name did he say? ‘I was in the nationhood, had a convulsion fit, and thought I’d stop by’? But his hand was acting of it’s own accord, rapping sharply on the door. And it wasn’t as if he was in any state to run.
It seemed to take forever for the door to open, plenty of time for Remus to get himself out of there. But he didn’t. He remained frozen to the spot, ears straining for the sounds of footsteps within the house, fingers clenched around the straps of his bag.
“What in….Lupin?”
“Hullo Severus!” Remus smiled as brightly as he could, acting as though he did this sort of thing all the time. Severus held himself as irritably as ever, lips curled up in a small sneer as he looked Remus over.
“What in merlin’s good name are you doing?”
“Dropping by to see you.” Horrible idea. Bloody horrible idea.
“You look like death.”
“I’ve been a bit under the weather,” Remus said casually. “Er…may I come in?”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you want to come in?”
“That’s rather how this sort of thing works…” Remus faltered. “Er…I dropped by to see you. That usually involves coming inside the house. There’s a good chance tea will be involved. If the dropper-in is very lucky, there are also biscuits.”
“You’re as daft as you ever were.” But Severus moved out of the way. “Why do you have that with you?”
“Er…” Remus stepped inside, his smiled waning. “Why don’t we sit down?”
“What is going on?” Severus had never been a stupid man.
“Can we please sit?”
“If you insist.” It was quite clear from the sound of Severus’ voice that he had no desire to sit. In fact, he looked as though he’d rather put Remus out on his arse. Bloody wonderful. Remus followed through the dark house, to what he imagined was the parlor. It was very much reflective of the man who lived there. Large oak bookcases lined the walls, and two high backed green chairs sat before the fireplace. Severus gestured vaguely towards them, still watching Remus suspiciously.
“You have a lovely home,” Remus said, finally getting a good look at Severus in the warm light of the parlor. He couldn’t remember a time since their school hood days when he had seen Severus in anything other than heavy black robes. He would hardly have imagined him in a simple white shirt and black slacks, but there he was.
“I am in no mood, Lupin.” Severus sat, and indicated for Remus to do so as well.
“Of course not.” Remus sighed, and sank heavily into the chair, amazed at how good it felt to take his weight off of his feet.
“Good. Now care to explain what this is all about?”
A bloody stupid idea that I should have let die as soon as I entertained it. Remus sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Well, no beating around the bush.
“As you’ve already so kindly pointed out, I’m a bit ill. I don’t fancy being ill and alone. All of my friends are dead, or not the sort I can simply drop in on.”
“I would like to point out that I do not even qualify as a ‘friend’ Lupin. As for you being ill, I do not care. If you are that bad off, commit yourself to the hospital and be done with it. That is what it‘s there for. But do go on, I am quite curious to see why you’ve graced my home with your presence.”
“Because you don’t care,” Remus said, all of his Gryffindor courage failing him. “I have no desire for pity or sympathy, or anything of that manner. And I have no desire to wait this out in a hospital bed.”
“For the simple sake of clarification-because I truly do not care what is wrong with you-what is ‘this’?”
Remus shrugged, glancing down at his lap. “Madden’s.” If Severus even knew what the disease was.
“Bloody hell.” Apparently he did.
“Yes, well.” Remus shrugged. “Part of life and all of that.”
“How long?”
“How long what? How long have I had it, or how long will I have it for?”
“How long have you had it.”
“Eh…” Remus frowned. “I was diagnosed with it a couple of months ago. But…I had the symptoms far longer. I simply didn’t realize there was quite a problem.”
“You’re a bit old to be coming down with it now.”
“My healer said the same thing. I…I‘m going to assume it‘s been staved off by the Wolfsbane.”
“Mmm.” Severus nodded, fingers steepled in front of his lips.
“I…I wasn’t going to come,” Remus said, running a hand through his hair. “But I was about to go home, and I had a…a seizure of some sort, and I’ll be honest with you Severus, it terrified me.”
“You’re a foolish man, Lupin.” Severus voice was soft, and he wasn’t looking at Remus. Rather he was watching the floor between them.
“Not for long,” Remus joked weakly.
“You’re also a sick one.”
“Oh, life’s not worth living without a bit of humor.” Remus gave a small chuckle. “And besides, it’s…easier. Making light of it.”
“Mmm,” Severus repeated, nodding slowly. “So you crawl into my parlor to die. How….charming.”
“I hardly crawled.” Remus leaned back, stretching his still sore legs out in front of him. “Anyway…have I a place to stay for at least tonight, or should I crawl on back out?”
“Lupin, I am hardly going to turn a terminally ill…“ Severus faltered a bit, as though searching for the right classification, “you out into the night.”
“That’s a comforting thought, I think.” Remus chuckled a bit, feeling drained and tired.
“Come then.” Severus stood, smoothing his trousers. “I shall show you to the spare bedroom.”
Remus rose, and followed after Severus, more impressed with the man’s home the more he saw of it. The Potions Master was a man of quite good taste. Portraits of what Remus assumed were previous Snape’s lined the corridors, paying little attention to the two men who passed beneath them.
“Here.” Severus pulled open a door at the end of the upstairs corridor, ushering Remus inside. It was well furnished, open, and quite clearly a guest’s room. And it looked and smelled as though it hadn’t been used in years.
“It’s lovely,” Remus said. Bed, trunk, desk and wardrobe. The necessities.
“I do not generally have house guests, Lupin.”
“You can’t say that anymore.” Remus smiled, setting down his bag. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I am exhausted. I know it’s rather bad manners to show up and go straight to bed…” He chuckled a bit, feeling more comfortable than he had when he first arrived.
“It depends on the houseguest. Rest Lupin, I shall see you in the morning.” And with that, Severus was gone.
***
It wasn’t often that Remus slept well in new places. But last night had been a rather special circumstance. And when he awoke in the morning, he was mildly disoriented. But after a few moments, he gathered his bearings. He blinked against the sunlight slipping over him, and struggled out of bed to stagger to the loo. At least he hoped it was the loo, and not a closet.
Luck was with him, it seemed. It was indeed a loo, and he found himself spending a good half hour getting ready for the day. Shower, shave, and the rest. With a final stretch he wandered back out to the bedroom, to get dressed.
All in all, this was going better than he had so recently expected. Severus had seemed amiable enough, by the time he’d gone to bed. Perhaps this hadn’t been such an awful idea after all. He was pawing through his clothing, when a knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts.
“Come in!” He supposed he could pull on a shirt, but he doubted Severus would be terribly offended by the sight of him in sleep pants and a vest.
“I simply wanted to make sure you’d woken up Lupin, it’s nearly noon.” Severus stepped inside, sneering slightly.
“Good god, you’re joking!” Remus straightened, running a hand through his hair. Had he slept that much?
“I do not joke Lupin, you know me well enough to know that. You’ve missed breakfast, but you’re in time for lunch. Make yourself decent and come downstairs.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Remus grinned, though the back of his mind was still in shock at how horribly he’d over slept. He’d always been a morning person, really. Severus grumbled something under his breath, heading back out into the hall.
Ten minutes later, Remus found himself seated at a rather small table with a chicken sandwich in front of him. Severus was busying himself with something at the counter, and the wireless was playing softly in the background. To Remus’ surprise, Severus was humming along with it. It was really very pleasant.
“May I ask what your plans are, Lupin?” Severus was apparently done with whatever it was he was doing. Making a salad, from the looks of it. He sat down across from Remus, eyeing him critically.
“Honestly? I don’t really have any.”
“You hardly seem as though you’re going to die tomorrow, you must have some idea what you intend to do with your remaining time. Unless of course you were intending to spend it here, in which I believe you need a new course of action.”
“I am not going to die tomorrow. I may not die at all from this, though I’m beginning to doubt that.” Remus tilted his head. “As for how long I’m staying here…I’ll stay as long as you’ll let me.”
“I’ve been following the progress on treatments for the disease, yes.” Severus nodded. “There was an article in it in Potions Monthly not too long ago.”
“What’s your professional opinion?”
“Honestly? They have something. But then again they may be netting rainbows. It’s a difficult disease to treat, quite complex. I have no desire to give you false hope, but I see no reason to abandon it completely.”
“You’re far more honest than my healer,” Remus said with a chuckle.
“I believe the proper term is ‘tactless’.”
“You? Tactless?” Remus grinned. Certainly pleasant.
“You have no intention of leaving, do you?”
“Not in the least.” Remus’ grin widened. “Unless you change your mind about turning a terminally ill me out into the night.”
“If you would pay attention to your surroundings you would realize it isn’t night any longer.” Severus’ eyes darkened, and his tone was foreboding. “Oh do not give me those eyes Lupin, I will allow you to stay!”
“I wasn’t aware I was giving you eyes,” Remus said. “But thank you.”
“Yes yes. But you will be expected to help out about the house I hope you understand.”
“Whatever you need,” Remus agreed without a qualm. “I assure you, I’m quite the capable house guest.”
“Mmm. You will prove this by cleaning the dishes. I have gardening to do.” Severus stood, black eyes still fixed on Remus.
“I think I can handle the dishes,” he replied with a small smile. He didn’t bother waiting for Severus to leave, but went about his task quickly and amiably.
***
They settled into a rather easy routine. Days were spent doing small chores about the house, and evenings were spent in companionable silence in the parlor, reading or perhaps playing a game of chess. Remus’ disease wasn’t spoken of, and he suffered from no further seizures. It was only when the moon drew close that the subject was brought up.
“Your Change is coming on you.”
Remus glanced up from his book, eyes taking a moment to focus on Severus. “Oh, yes it is.”
“I would like to try something, if you’ve no objections?”
“Oh?” Remus titled his head, closing his book. Severus had his full attention, now. Not that that took much, really, these days.
“You are aware of the mechanics of your illness, correct?”
“More or less.” Remus nodded.
“I have seen you transform once, if you will recall. Even with the wolfsbane, you were quite…agitated during the process.”
“Well…it’s hard to be anything else when your entire physical construction is being twisted and remade,” Remus said flatly. “I do tend to thrash about.”
“I would imagine that would simply increase the trauma your body,” Severus said, his voice bored.
“And what do you suggest? I try very hard to lie still?”
“Sedation.” The black haired man shrugged, as though it didn’t matter to him. “Theoretically, your change would be more fluid and less stressful on your skeletal and muscular structure. I have a pet project I have been working on that may do the trick. Unless you'd rather suffer through.”
“Sedation?” Remus frowned. The thought didn’t appeal to him very much. Though neither did the searing pain of the Change.
“Purely physical, I assure you,” Severus went on. “Your mind will suffer nothing from it. Or so I imagine. As I told you it has yet to be tested, but seeing as how you are terminally ill I don’t see how it can do you any further harm.”
“With such warm hearted arguments, how could I say no?” Remus shook his head. “I…I suppose it’s worth a try.”
“As I said Lupin, I doubt it will cause you any further damage. I will of course monitor you while under it‘s influence.”
“Oh, of course.” Remus nodded. He doubted he’d agree to it, if Severus weren’t going to be on hand to offer help should it be needed. His Change wasn’t something he was willing to take a chance with.
“Then it is settled.”
They lapsed back into silence, Remus returning to his novel and Severus to his notes. Remus swore he had never seen another man who enjoyed his calling more than Severus Snape. Once he had been taken down to Severus’ lab in the basement. It rivaled many of the professional set ups he had seen in his life. Beakers, vials, cauldrons, things Remus had no name for lined tables, workbenches and shelves. Books and journals and notes bound together with bits of string were tossed here and there. It was a working lab, and one that seemed to be much used and much loved.
Severus in his own home was not the Severus that Remus remembered from his teaching days. He seemed more comfortable, at the very least. Less guarded. It was quite nice to see, really. Remus was glad for that, at the very least. Perhaps their arrangement hadn’t turned into a torrid love affair, but Remus had been granted the occasional smile from Severus. Even something so small was worth it.
Yawning, Remus placed a marker in his book and stood. It was late, and he wanted a good night’s sleep before the full moon.
“Goodnight, Remus.”
He turned, lips curving up in a smile as he caught Severus’ dark eyes upon him. Yes, the little things were more than worth it.
***
“Do what you need to get comfortable. Whatever it is you normally do.”
Remus tilted his head at Severus-who was seated on the bed looking bored-and pursed his lips. This was going to be…disconcerting. He’d never allowed anyone to actually see his Change before.
“All right.” Remus shrugged. He put Dylan on the record player and lit a fire. “You’re going to have to stand up.”
Severus did as he was told, eyes narrowed as he watched every move Remus made. The sheets and blankets were pulled from the bed and tossed onto the floor in front of the fire. Since it had begun to hurt, the heat from the flames eased his joints a bit. He arranged them into a bit of a nest, and when he was pleased with them he paused. Severus had told him to do what he normally did.
“I hope you’re not the easily embarrassed type,” Remus said with a bit of a grin. He pulled his jumper off and folded it neatly on a chair. He had his trousers about his knees when Severus made a noise of protest.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t very well change in my clothes,” Remus said, folding the trousers neatly as well and placing them on his jumper. “And I highly doubt you’ve never seen a naked man before.”
“Generally I’ve a bit of warning,” Severus said dryly. “It’s rather rare I have houseguests inviting me to their bedroom and peeling off their clothing in front of me.”
“But those are the best sort!” Remus flashed the other man a cheeky grin and shucked his pants off as well. He felt a small thrill of triumph as he saw Severus turn away with a spot of color on his cheeks. Remus sat beside him on the bed-Severus had sat back down after the blankets were removed-and peeled off his socks.
“You’re shameless.” Severus still wasn’t looking at him.
“Just a bit.” It was only now that a sudden wave of self consciousness washed over him. He was thin and hollowed, scars tracing a spider web of patterns across his body. One large mass covered his left hip, the scar tissue gleaming white and grotesque in the firelight. He didn’t exactly blame Severus for looking away.
“You won’t go blind,” Remus muttered a bit harshly. The Potions Master glanced over at him, brow raised questioningly.
“I was simply being polite. It‘s rude to stare.”
“Mmm.” Remus stood, back to Severus, watching the flames leap and dance. “My sedative?”
“Of course.” He felt rather than heard Severus come up behind him. A glass vial was pushed into his hand, and he shivered at the feathery brush of Severus’ fingers against his palm. His hand closed around them as well as the vial, eyes closing at the small contact. He allowed his senses to memorize the feel of long fingers trapped with his own, slim and warm. A tremor ran through his body, despite the warmth of the fire. They had never touched before, not that Remus could remember. Not like this. He couldn’t seem to force his hand to open, to release Severus’ fingers and take the vial. He didn’t want to.
“You will be well, Remus.” The soft tone of Severus’ voice surprised him, shook him in a way he doubted anything else would. He snatched his hand away, vial trapped loosely in his fingers. He uncorked it unsteadily, draining the contents without a word. It tasted like nothing, really.
“Open the shades, please.” He couldn’t turn to look at the other man. Not after that. Merlin, how long had he held onto Severus’ hand? He felt his companion move to the window, heard the swish of the curtains opening, and he swore he could taste the faint ice of the moonlight as it slid like a knife over his flesh.
Everything tightened. He was suddenly like a spring that had been tightly wound, the Change uncoiling through him with silent force. The sensation that came over him was not unlike pins and needles, an electric tingling that slid over his bones and into his blood. He sank to his knees, keenly aware of the ways his body reshaped itself in a way he never had been before. Thing slid and twisted and flowed from one shape to another, reworking and fitting together to create something wholly unlike the form that had stood a moment ago.
Remus stood shakily, exhausted but not in any pain. He turned his eyes to Severus, regarding the man curiously. His wolfish mind wasn’t as complex as his human once, but there was still quite a bit that was still Remus. He met Snape’s eyes, aware of the scrutiny there. He tilted his head and turned away. He was tired and the blankets were warm and inviting. He turned about one amongst them and flopped over onto his side, stretching before the flames. He lay like that for a long while, watching the fire and thinking of things that there were no words for. His thoughts often slipped into images in this state, emotions and feelings and sensations rather than words.
But he was aware. He was aware of movement, and of a presence beside him suddenly. He lifted his head and watched Severus with curious eyes. The man was kneeling beside him, and Remus could smell a hint of fear coming from him.
“May I?” That same hushed tone from earlier. Remus didn’t entirely understand the question, but he understood the timidly outstretched hand. He watched it, eyes rivet to the slightly trembling fingers that seemed to be caught in some frightful limbo. They came no closer and at the same time made no move to draw away. Was he waiting for some sign from Remus? The werewolf made a low sound in his throat and butted his head against the hand which drew away immediately before settling gently against his skull.
Severus said nothing, but his fingers slowly threaded their way into Remus’ fur, tracing the curve of his skull with a delicate touch that was nothing the werewolf would ever associate with Severus Snape. Long fingers found their way into the shaggy main at Remus’ neck, carding through the thick fur on their slow journey to his shoulders. The werewolf stretched and wuffled contently under the attention. The part of him that was still Remus was very much aware that he wanted this man touching him. And touching him as carefully and tenderly as he was now.
Eventually sleep took over, despite Remus’ need to feel fingers and hands running along his back and sides, fingers scratching behind his ears and hitting that spot that made him growl in pleasure. But the change had taken a toll on him and he slipped into unconsciousness as Severus’ fingers stroked his neck.
***
The Morning After was never pleasant. Remus was still and sore, and there was a dull burning sensation in his joints. The fire was very low in the hearth, and he was dimly aware of something warm pressed against his back. His eyes refused to open, however, and his body won the argument that attempting to get it to move had caused. He made a noise-or at least attempted to-and wondered if more sleep would do the trick. But the warmth beside him moved, and something that had been draped across him became suddenly more prominent.
“Whazza?” he finally managed to mumbled, shifting with as much authority as he could muster. Silence behind him, but a silence that spoke volumes. It was coupled with a sudden tenseness that only a werewolf would notice. Bugger. He turned, slowly, keeping his body wrapped in what had been draped across him.
Severus was watching him. It was impossible to divine anything from the man’s expression which was as blank always, if a bit softened by sleep. His arm was still tossed across Remus, both of them covered by a loose blanket.
Memories of the night before came back to him. Fingers in his fur, hands running over him with a quiet reverence. The pain didn’t matter right now. They were wrapped in a warm cocoon that Remus was loathe to move from. He smiled sleepily, wondering if perhaps he was still dreaming.
“Good morning.”
The words shattered the moment. As soon as Remus had spoken, Severus drew away and stood with a cat’s quickness. Clean clothes were dropped next to Remus, and a moment later he heard the door slam.
***
Months passed. Nothing was ever said, but every full moon it was the same. Remus grew to look forward to his Changes, despite the pain they left him with. Despite Severus’ sedative, it was still worse every time. But it was worth it to lie underneath Severus’ hands, to feel his body unwind and come undone as his fur was ruffled, stroked, parted and caressed. And those few brief moments in the morning, when they would lie together both as men.
Remus was thinking on it while he did the dishes one evening, humming along with the wireless and watching a stray cat wander into the garden. He realized afterwards he should have seen it coming, should have recognized that odd tingling sensation for what it was.
But he didn’t, and he was unprepared for the convulsions that seized his body, knocking the plate from his hand to shatter against the sink. He watched it fall as if in slow motion, and a part of his mind told him to step back. But his body refused to listen, and he slipped forward as the porcelain flew apart, slivers embedding themselves in his hands.
He didn’t even realize he’d cried out. But hands were about him, pulling back and easing him to the floor. He was resting against Severus’ chest, and he was held tightly until the last of the tremors passed. He shook in the other man’s arms, dimly aware of soothing noises against his ear.
“You’re bleeding, Remus.”
He didn’t respond, but lay limp as Severus pulled the shards from his palm and wrapped his hand to stop the bleeding. He was quiet as he was lifted up, carried up the stairs and laid in his bed. Every now and again a tremor would rock his body, and he would whimper softly.
“It’s alright,” Severus said tucking the covers about him. “It’s simply an involuntary muscular reaction. I‘m surprised they‘re so far apart, to be honest. The sedative is working.”
“Mmm.” Remus closed his eyes, but opened them when he felt the brush of fingertips along his cheek. Severus was sitting on the bed beside of him, watching him with his usual inscrutable expression. “For how long?”
“For how long what?” Fingers traced the line of his jaw.
“How long will it work for?”
“Until you stop taking it. Do not spout maudlin grievances at me, Remus, you are going to be fine. Desperate playing at martyrdom has no place beneath my roof.”
“I’m not playing the martyr…”
“You always do, Remus.” Severus’ fingers continued tracing and retracing their path along his face, soft and reassuring. Eventually they wound their way into his hair. “You may not realize it, but you seem to enjoy your suffering. You flaunt it like a badge.”
“I have never…”
“Yes you do. You flaunt it by being so very obvious in your refusal to complain and your quiet acceptance. You never hesitate to point out how well you’ve done, despite your horrible odds. You take everyone’s burdens upon yourself and claim it your ‘duty’. Your very humility is your pride. You live to be a martyr Remus.”
“I hate you,” Remus mumbled with little conviction behind the worse. He leaned his head into Severus’ touch, one hand reaching up to twine his fingers through the other man’s. If it were allowed. The gentle fingers sliding through his hair were the same ones that parted his fur on the long full moon nights.
“Yes, you make that quite clear.” There was a hint of amusement in Severus’ voice. Remus chuckled weakly, his hand resting along with the Potions Master’s on the pillow, fingers laced together loosely .
“I do my best.”
A small part of him wished that this moment had never happened. When he was the wolf, it was different. There were no human reservations, no conflicting thoughts, no fears. There was just the feel of Severus’ hands.
“Get some sleep.” Thin fingers squeezed his briefly before attempting to disentangle themselves. Remus felt his own fingers, acting separately from his mind as they did that first full moon, tightening.
“What about you?”
“What about me, Remus?”
“Stay with me?”
Silence followed, cold and tense. Black eyes that had displayed a touch of emotion went dead and empty. Fingers went stiff and unresponsive. Severus’ entire posture changed and Remus knew he had gone too far.
“I am not ready for bed, yet.” Though not exactly the most harsh of statements, it was spoken in a voice that lacked all warmth.
“When…when you are?” It was Severus’ fault for offering that small hint of hope.
“Perhaps.”
Remus nodded, and released Severus’ hand. Fingers brushed back his hair, and to his surprise a pair of thin lips were pressed to his forehead lightly.
***
Werewolves are not generally sound sleepers, but Remus had been exhausted and he was ill. He slept well into the middle of the night, not fully coming to until he realized there was a presence in bed beside him. He rolled over, blinking in the dim light. He did feel a bit better after resting, and the bed was warm and comfortable. He curled his body around Severus’, feeling him shift and twist.
“Remus?”
“Hullo.” Remus smiled, resting his forehead against Severus’. He felt the other man’s hand on his side, light and reassuring.
“How are you feeling?”
“Not bad.”
“Good. You should be sleeping.”
“I did sleep,” Remus pointed out. “I slept quite a bit, from the feel of it.”
“I’ve no idea what time it is,” Severus said. “I came to bed about nine. I would guess it is sometime after midnight.”
“Then yes, I slept at least six hours.”
“And now what do you plan to do?”
“Oh…I don’t know…” Remus smiled, wrapping his arms around Severus and pulling him closer.
“You cannot be serious, Remus.”
“About what?”
“About this!”
“What is ‘this‘?” Remus couldn’t help the warmth that crept into his voice. “I’m not doing much other than talking to you…”
“You’ve a look in your eye.”
“I would hope I do, that’s what they’re there for.”
“I would request you cease that tone, Remus. It’s not going to get you anywhere.”
“I see.” He smiled, his intentions honestly innocent. Nothing much mattered other than the fact that Severus was beside him in bed, holding him and touching him.
“You should rest.” Dry lips brushed over his, sending shivers down his spine. He whimpered, softly, straining into the other man’s mouth with a desperate need. The kiss deepened, Severus’ lips parting to Remus’ insistent tongue. He couldn’t tell how long they lay there, no sound between them but heavy breathing and the occasional pleased murmur. But he was tired, and he pulled away before his body wouldn’t allow him to.
“Not a very good way to get me to rest,” he said.
“Consider it incentive.”
“Incentive?” They shifted a bit, Remus turning over onto his other side.
“Yes, incentive. If you don’t rest and take care of yourself it’s never going any further than that.” Severus’ body pressed against his, holding him from behind.
“Point taken.” Remus chuckled, losing his eyes and settling himself into the bed.
“You do realize that when I say you will be alright, it is more than empty reassurances?”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been making adjustments to your sedative. Medically speaking, you‘re going to be fine. I cannot promise you‘re going to get any better, but your condition will not deteriorate any further.”
“Thank you.” He didn’t know what else to say, really. He lay there silently, hands hooked in Severus’, thinking on the man who was sharing his bed. He could live very well as he was now. Especially considering he’d gotten what he came here for. That thought still cause blossoms of warmth somewhere inside of him.
“How long?” The question came after a long moment of silence, and caught the werewolf off guard.
“How long what?”
“This.” Severus kissed his neck, and nuzzled his hair. “How long?”
“Oh Merlin….” Remus sighed, thinking. “Honestly? Since about seventh year.”
“Ah.” Nothing more. No shock, no outrage, no demands for further explanations. Just the one simple word. As thought he had simply confirmed something Severus already suspected. “Goodnight, Remus.”
“Goodnight Severus.” He hesitated, his mind fighting with his tongue in a brief battle it lost miserably. “I love you.” He wanted to take the words back as soon as they left his mouth. He’d nearly mucked things up already today…
“Yes yes, and I you. Goodnight Remus.”
Well that settled that. That had not been the reaction Remus expected, but it surpassed even his wildest dreams. It was rather funny, he reflected, how things worked out sometimes. Five months ago he wasn’t even sure he’d live to see another full moon, and now he had essentially been told he had the rest of his life to look forward to with Severus Snape.
And that was a damn good thing to look forward to.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: Shelter From the Storm
Author: Lady Feylene
Pairing: Severus/Remus
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Remus is diagnosed with a potentially terminal lycanthropic disease and decides to make the most of what time he has left.
Remus Lupin sat, idly picking at a stray thread that had worked it’s way out of the rather loosely woven sleeve of his robes. He was in St Mungos, in a rather small private room, awaiting test results. He’d been there for what felt like an hour, and he was bored out of his mind.
He supposed he should have come sooner. The past few months, the pain of his transformations had been staying with him. At first it was nothing more than a lingering ache that had lasted a day or two longer than normal, but this time his bones and joints had screamed in fury for four days, and the pain was just now starting to fade. He supposed it could simply be age-even though forty five wasn’t that old-but he didn’t feel like living in agony. And so an appointment with Adrian Bowen had been made, and here he was.
The door opened, and Remus sat up straight, craning his head to watch the doctor carefully. The man was a very skilled healer, and one of the few who specialized in werewolves. And he was rather skilled at keeping his face blank. But scent was something else.
Bowen was nervous. And upset. Which Remus had been able to predict the moment he was asked to step into the little room. One wasn’t ushered aside and into private to be handed a vial and told ‘three drops a day will take care of the pain’. Something was wrong.
“Remus…” Bowen began, sitting down heavily.
“Spare me the long lead in,” Remus said with a small smile. “It’s bad news. I can take it.”
“I wish more of my patients were like you Remus. Have you ever heard of Madden’s Syndrome?”
“Er…no.” Remus shook his head. Lycanthropic diseases had never been a subject he’d spent much time researching.. He supposed, in hindsight, that he should have. But he hadn’t honestly thought he’d live long enough to fall prey to any serious illness’.
“It usually hits much younger than where you’re at now. I’ve rarely seen a case over the age of thirty five. It’s singular to lycanthropes who have been bitten, rather than born. You were born human, and your body retains a bit of that. Despite being bitten, sometimes…sometimes after a while, the changes just become too much.”
“That explains the pain…” Remus said slowly. He paused, hands folded as he waited for Bowen to give him the rest of the news.
“It’s not going to get any better Remus. Now don’t go thinking I’ve just signed your death warrant, but I’m not going to lie to you. Your body’s breaking down. It’s going to be a little bit worse each time you change. There are of course potions to help with the pain, and we’re expecting a breakthrough in treatment any day now…”
“But as it stands, all I can do is take painkiller’s and deal with it?” Remus shrugged. It could be worse, he supposed. Really, all things considered, this wasn’t that bad. Pain was nothing new.
“I’m sorry Remus.”
“Don’t be sorry, it’s hardly your fault. About…about how long is this going to last?”
“I don’t know. There’s no way to tell, really. You’re in good shape and other than this your healthy. It could be anywhere from six months to a few years. Maybe longer.”
“And the chances of that treatment breakthrough happening in the next few years?”
“High,” Bowen said. “Very high. Of course, the first treatments will be rather experimental…”
“But better than nothing.”
“Yes.”
Remus just nodded. What else could he do, really? It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but there was nothing to be done. And the outlook wasn’t bleak. Bowen hadn’t told him he’d be dead in a week. He had up to a few good years, with developments predicted in the meantime. A few more minutes and he had a bottle and scrip, and was sent on his way.
***
Waiting was the worst part. Remus changed nothing about his daily routine-which consisted of writing, mostly, with small breaks in between for food and the loo-and certainly didn’t tell anyone about this new development, but he knew. It was as if now that the pain had been given a name, he could feel it. Even though there was no pain he swore he heard a creak or felt a strain every time he moved.
The potion did help. Though he felt rather dependant, Wolfsbane before and the pain potion. It was a key in to Remus that the damn thing didn’t even have a common name, and actercaedometin was far too long a word to say. He was beginning to doubt those breakthroughs in modern healing Bowen had promised.
But it didn’t matter. When he awoke from his change, he was on fire, but a spoonful of his potion dulled it to an ache, until it faded completely. At least there was that. But still, the pain stayed in his mind. And he knew, with unshaken certainty, that his body was failing him. And sitting about while that happened was simply not having on with.
There was too much to do, he was realizing. He wanted to finish his book-it was nearly done-and he wanted to live. The war was two years won, and he hadn’t even truly enjoyed it. Not to the extent he should, at any rate. There were too many things, really.
It was a week after his change that he actually sat down to work out what he planned on doing. He poured a cup of tea, cut himself a slice of pie, and sat down in front of a quill and parchment.
Things to Do
Remus frowned thoughtfully at it.
Finish book.
That was the foremost thought in his mind. He felt he was nearly done. With luck ‘Once Bitten: Making a Healthy and Happy Adjustment to Lycanthropy’ would be helpful to those who were ushered into the same life he had been. He had one more chapter to write, now that he had a bit more information.
Visit America.
But America was rather large. He’d have to pick one part. And really, it was smelly and dirty and loud from what he knew. That was scratched off. Ten or so other things were written and scratched out, because he realized he had them already.
This was turning out to be more difficult than he’d thought. All in all, he’d had a good life. He’d fought in two world wars, and he’d buried more friends than most people made in a lifetime. What was left, really?
Severus.
***
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. What was the one thing he hadn’t even come close to doing? The one thing he wanted in his life that was missing? The thing he’d never had quite the courage to go after?
It had seemed so horribly romantic and fatalistic. Show up on Severus’ doorstep and profess his love. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof. But now, sitting in a small café and nursing a cup of cocoa ten miles away from Severus’ estate, it didn’t seem quite so brilliant.
What if Severus laughed at him? Or was cross? What if he simply turned him away without a word?
Some bloody Gryffindor. He finished the cup of cocoa, hefted his bag over his shoulder, and wandered out into the cold night. He stood, rubbing his hands together, and stared off in the direction of Severus’ home.
//I should just go.// Remus sighed, and would have turned and summoned the Knight Bus. If it hadn’t been for the seizure.
He didn’t know what else to call it. His body began trembling, and his knees buckled and gave way beneath him. He grabbed at the wall of the building, holding himself up with quite a bit of effort.
It only lasted a few seconds, but it left him breathless and shaking. He leaned heavily against the wall, gasping for breath. No one had seen him, or given him a second glance if they had. Dear Merlin, he hadn’t been prepared for that!
Nothing about his new physical complication had frightened him quite like that. It was vaguely reminiscent of his Changes, the very beginning. That tingling, that strange sensation that his body was no longer his. He tried to shake it off, and pushed himself upright. His legs were still trembling, but they’d hold him.
He wasn’t certain what Severus could do, but he had no desire to be alone after that little incident. If he needed medical treatment, he couldn’t very well get himself to the hospital. Taking small, slow steps, he made his way down the road to the edge of town. The Potions Master had an estate on the hill above town, out of the way but rather easy to reach.
The hill proved a bit difficult. Remus was panting and sweating heavily by the time he’d reached the top. He felt wards tingle and buzz about him as he passed through the open gate, obviously not seeing him as a danger.
Taking a moment, Remus surveyed Severus’ home. It wasn’t exactly what one would call expansive, but it was certainly impressive. Stone and ivy and far more cozy looking than anything Remus would have associated with the rather dour Potions Master. Taking a few deep breaths, he approached the door.
This was a mistake. The doubts and fears reared their ugly heads again. And what in Merlin’s name did he say? ‘I was in the nationhood, had a convulsion fit, and thought I’d stop by’? But his hand was acting of it’s own accord, rapping sharply on the door. And it wasn’t as if he was in any state to run.
It seemed to take forever for the door to open, plenty of time for Remus to get himself out of there. But he didn’t. He remained frozen to the spot, ears straining for the sounds of footsteps within the house, fingers clenched around the straps of his bag.
“What in….Lupin?”
“Hullo Severus!” Remus smiled as brightly as he could, acting as though he did this sort of thing all the time. Severus held himself as irritably as ever, lips curled up in a small sneer as he looked Remus over.
“What in merlin’s good name are you doing?”
“Dropping by to see you.” Horrible idea. Bloody horrible idea.
“You look like death.”
“I’ve been a bit under the weather,” Remus said casually. “Er…may I come in?”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you want to come in?”
“That’s rather how this sort of thing works…” Remus faltered. “Er…I dropped by to see you. That usually involves coming inside the house. There’s a good chance tea will be involved. If the dropper-in is very lucky, there are also biscuits.”
“You’re as daft as you ever were.” But Severus moved out of the way. “Why do you have that with you?”
“Er…” Remus stepped inside, his smiled waning. “Why don’t we sit down?”
“What is going on?” Severus had never been a stupid man.
“Can we please sit?”
“If you insist.” It was quite clear from the sound of Severus’ voice that he had no desire to sit. In fact, he looked as though he’d rather put Remus out on his arse. Bloody wonderful. Remus followed through the dark house, to what he imagined was the parlor. It was very much reflective of the man who lived there. Large oak bookcases lined the walls, and two high backed green chairs sat before the fireplace. Severus gestured vaguely towards them, still watching Remus suspiciously.
“You have a lovely home,” Remus said, finally getting a good look at Severus in the warm light of the parlor. He couldn’t remember a time since their school hood days when he had seen Severus in anything other than heavy black robes. He would hardly have imagined him in a simple white shirt and black slacks, but there he was.
“I am in no mood, Lupin.” Severus sat, and indicated for Remus to do so as well.
“Of course not.” Remus sighed, and sank heavily into the chair, amazed at how good it felt to take his weight off of his feet.
“Good. Now care to explain what this is all about?”
A bloody stupid idea that I should have let die as soon as I entertained it. Remus sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Well, no beating around the bush.
“As you’ve already so kindly pointed out, I’m a bit ill. I don’t fancy being ill and alone. All of my friends are dead, or not the sort I can simply drop in on.”
“I would like to point out that I do not even qualify as a ‘friend’ Lupin. As for you being ill, I do not care. If you are that bad off, commit yourself to the hospital and be done with it. That is what it‘s there for. But do go on, I am quite curious to see why you’ve graced my home with your presence.”
“Because you don’t care,” Remus said, all of his Gryffindor courage failing him. “I have no desire for pity or sympathy, or anything of that manner. And I have no desire to wait this out in a hospital bed.”
“For the simple sake of clarification-because I truly do not care what is wrong with you-what is ‘this’?”
Remus shrugged, glancing down at his lap. “Madden’s.” If Severus even knew what the disease was.
“Bloody hell.” Apparently he did.
“Yes, well.” Remus shrugged. “Part of life and all of that.”
“How long?”
“How long what? How long have I had it, or how long will I have it for?”
“How long have you had it.”
“Eh…” Remus frowned. “I was diagnosed with it a couple of months ago. But…I had the symptoms far longer. I simply didn’t realize there was quite a problem.”
“You’re a bit old to be coming down with it now.”
“My healer said the same thing. I…I‘m going to assume it‘s been staved off by the Wolfsbane.”
“Mmm.” Severus nodded, fingers steepled in front of his lips.
“I…I wasn’t going to come,” Remus said, running a hand through his hair. “But I was about to go home, and I had a…a seizure of some sort, and I’ll be honest with you Severus, it terrified me.”
“You’re a foolish man, Lupin.” Severus voice was soft, and he wasn’t looking at Remus. Rather he was watching the floor between them.
“Not for long,” Remus joked weakly.
“You’re also a sick one.”
“Oh, life’s not worth living without a bit of humor.” Remus gave a small chuckle. “And besides, it’s…easier. Making light of it.”
“Mmm,” Severus repeated, nodding slowly. “So you crawl into my parlor to die. How….charming.”
“I hardly crawled.” Remus leaned back, stretching his still sore legs out in front of him. “Anyway…have I a place to stay for at least tonight, or should I crawl on back out?”
“Lupin, I am hardly going to turn a terminally ill…“ Severus faltered a bit, as though searching for the right classification, “you out into the night.”
“That’s a comforting thought, I think.” Remus chuckled a bit, feeling drained and tired.
“Come then.” Severus stood, smoothing his trousers. “I shall show you to the spare bedroom.”
Remus rose, and followed after Severus, more impressed with the man’s home the more he saw of it. The Potions Master was a man of quite good taste. Portraits of what Remus assumed were previous Snape’s lined the corridors, paying little attention to the two men who passed beneath them.
“Here.” Severus pulled open a door at the end of the upstairs corridor, ushering Remus inside. It was well furnished, open, and quite clearly a guest’s room. And it looked and smelled as though it hadn’t been used in years.
“It’s lovely,” Remus said. Bed, trunk, desk and wardrobe. The necessities.
“I do not generally have house guests, Lupin.”
“You can’t say that anymore.” Remus smiled, setting down his bag. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I am exhausted. I know it’s rather bad manners to show up and go straight to bed…” He chuckled a bit, feeling more comfortable than he had when he first arrived.
“It depends on the houseguest. Rest Lupin, I shall see you in the morning.” And with that, Severus was gone.
***
It wasn’t often that Remus slept well in new places. But last night had been a rather special circumstance. And when he awoke in the morning, he was mildly disoriented. But after a few moments, he gathered his bearings. He blinked against the sunlight slipping over him, and struggled out of bed to stagger to the loo. At least he hoped it was the loo, and not a closet.
Luck was with him, it seemed. It was indeed a loo, and he found himself spending a good half hour getting ready for the day. Shower, shave, and the rest. With a final stretch he wandered back out to the bedroom, to get dressed.
All in all, this was going better than he had so recently expected. Severus had seemed amiable enough, by the time he’d gone to bed. Perhaps this hadn’t been such an awful idea after all. He was pawing through his clothing, when a knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts.
“Come in!” He supposed he could pull on a shirt, but he doubted Severus would be terribly offended by the sight of him in sleep pants and a vest.
“I simply wanted to make sure you’d woken up Lupin, it’s nearly noon.” Severus stepped inside, sneering slightly.
“Good god, you’re joking!” Remus straightened, running a hand through his hair. Had he slept that much?
“I do not joke Lupin, you know me well enough to know that. You’ve missed breakfast, but you’re in time for lunch. Make yourself decent and come downstairs.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Remus grinned, though the back of his mind was still in shock at how horribly he’d over slept. He’d always been a morning person, really. Severus grumbled something under his breath, heading back out into the hall.
Ten minutes later, Remus found himself seated at a rather small table with a chicken sandwich in front of him. Severus was busying himself with something at the counter, and the wireless was playing softly in the background. To Remus’ surprise, Severus was humming along with it. It was really very pleasant.
“May I ask what your plans are, Lupin?” Severus was apparently done with whatever it was he was doing. Making a salad, from the looks of it. He sat down across from Remus, eyeing him critically.
“Honestly? I don’t really have any.”
“You hardly seem as though you’re going to die tomorrow, you must have some idea what you intend to do with your remaining time. Unless of course you were intending to spend it here, in which I believe you need a new course of action.”
“I am not going to die tomorrow. I may not die at all from this, though I’m beginning to doubt that.” Remus tilted his head. “As for how long I’m staying here…I’ll stay as long as you’ll let me.”
“I’ve been following the progress on treatments for the disease, yes.” Severus nodded. “There was an article in it in Potions Monthly not too long ago.”
“What’s your professional opinion?”
“Honestly? They have something. But then again they may be netting rainbows. It’s a difficult disease to treat, quite complex. I have no desire to give you false hope, but I see no reason to abandon it completely.”
“You’re far more honest than my healer,” Remus said with a chuckle.
“I believe the proper term is ‘tactless’.”
“You? Tactless?” Remus grinned. Certainly pleasant.
“You have no intention of leaving, do you?”
“Not in the least.” Remus’ grin widened. “Unless you change your mind about turning a terminally ill me out into the night.”
“If you would pay attention to your surroundings you would realize it isn’t night any longer.” Severus’ eyes darkened, and his tone was foreboding. “Oh do not give me those eyes Lupin, I will allow you to stay!”
“I wasn’t aware I was giving you eyes,” Remus said. “But thank you.”
“Yes yes. But you will be expected to help out about the house I hope you understand.”
“Whatever you need,” Remus agreed without a qualm. “I assure you, I’m quite the capable house guest.”
“Mmm. You will prove this by cleaning the dishes. I have gardening to do.” Severus stood, black eyes still fixed on Remus.
“I think I can handle the dishes,” he replied with a small smile. He didn’t bother waiting for Severus to leave, but went about his task quickly and amiably.
***
They settled into a rather easy routine. Days were spent doing small chores about the house, and evenings were spent in companionable silence in the parlor, reading or perhaps playing a game of chess. Remus’ disease wasn’t spoken of, and he suffered from no further seizures. It was only when the moon drew close that the subject was brought up.
“Your Change is coming on you.”
Remus glanced up from his book, eyes taking a moment to focus on Severus. “Oh, yes it is.”
“I would like to try something, if you’ve no objections?”
“Oh?” Remus titled his head, closing his book. Severus had his full attention, now. Not that that took much, really, these days.
“You are aware of the mechanics of your illness, correct?”
“More or less.” Remus nodded.
“I have seen you transform once, if you will recall. Even with the wolfsbane, you were quite…agitated during the process.”
“Well…it’s hard to be anything else when your entire physical construction is being twisted and remade,” Remus said flatly. “I do tend to thrash about.”
“I would imagine that would simply increase the trauma your body,” Severus said, his voice bored.
“And what do you suggest? I try very hard to lie still?”
“Sedation.” The black haired man shrugged, as though it didn’t matter to him. “Theoretically, your change would be more fluid and less stressful on your skeletal and muscular structure. I have a pet project I have been working on that may do the trick. Unless you'd rather suffer through.”
“Sedation?” Remus frowned. The thought didn’t appeal to him very much. Though neither did the searing pain of the Change.
“Purely physical, I assure you,” Severus went on. “Your mind will suffer nothing from it. Or so I imagine. As I told you it has yet to be tested, but seeing as how you are terminally ill I don’t see how it can do you any further harm.”
“With such warm hearted arguments, how could I say no?” Remus shook his head. “I…I suppose it’s worth a try.”
“As I said Lupin, I doubt it will cause you any further damage. I will of course monitor you while under it‘s influence.”
“Oh, of course.” Remus nodded. He doubted he’d agree to it, if Severus weren’t going to be on hand to offer help should it be needed. His Change wasn’t something he was willing to take a chance with.
“Then it is settled.”
They lapsed back into silence, Remus returning to his novel and Severus to his notes. Remus swore he had never seen another man who enjoyed his calling more than Severus Snape. Once he had been taken down to Severus’ lab in the basement. It rivaled many of the professional set ups he had seen in his life. Beakers, vials, cauldrons, things Remus had no name for lined tables, workbenches and shelves. Books and journals and notes bound together with bits of string were tossed here and there. It was a working lab, and one that seemed to be much used and much loved.
Severus in his own home was not the Severus that Remus remembered from his teaching days. He seemed more comfortable, at the very least. Less guarded. It was quite nice to see, really. Remus was glad for that, at the very least. Perhaps their arrangement hadn’t turned into a torrid love affair, but Remus had been granted the occasional smile from Severus. Even something so small was worth it.
Yawning, Remus placed a marker in his book and stood. It was late, and he wanted a good night’s sleep before the full moon.
“Goodnight, Remus.”
He turned, lips curving up in a smile as he caught Severus’ dark eyes upon him. Yes, the little things were more than worth it.
***
“Do what you need to get comfortable. Whatever it is you normally do.”
Remus tilted his head at Severus-who was seated on the bed looking bored-and pursed his lips. This was going to be…disconcerting. He’d never allowed anyone to actually see his Change before.
“All right.” Remus shrugged. He put Dylan on the record player and lit a fire. “You’re going to have to stand up.”
Severus did as he was told, eyes narrowed as he watched every move Remus made. The sheets and blankets were pulled from the bed and tossed onto the floor in front of the fire. Since it had begun to hurt, the heat from the flames eased his joints a bit. He arranged them into a bit of a nest, and when he was pleased with them he paused. Severus had told him to do what he normally did.
“I hope you’re not the easily embarrassed type,” Remus said with a bit of a grin. He pulled his jumper off and folded it neatly on a chair. He had his trousers about his knees when Severus made a noise of protest.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t very well change in my clothes,” Remus said, folding the trousers neatly as well and placing them on his jumper. “And I highly doubt you’ve never seen a naked man before.”
“Generally I’ve a bit of warning,” Severus said dryly. “It’s rather rare I have houseguests inviting me to their bedroom and peeling off their clothing in front of me.”
“But those are the best sort!” Remus flashed the other man a cheeky grin and shucked his pants off as well. He felt a small thrill of triumph as he saw Severus turn away with a spot of color on his cheeks. Remus sat beside him on the bed-Severus had sat back down after the blankets were removed-and peeled off his socks.
“You’re shameless.” Severus still wasn’t looking at him.
“Just a bit.” It was only now that a sudden wave of self consciousness washed over him. He was thin and hollowed, scars tracing a spider web of patterns across his body. One large mass covered his left hip, the scar tissue gleaming white and grotesque in the firelight. He didn’t exactly blame Severus for looking away.
“You won’t go blind,” Remus muttered a bit harshly. The Potions Master glanced over at him, brow raised questioningly.
“I was simply being polite. It‘s rude to stare.”
“Mmm.” Remus stood, back to Severus, watching the flames leap and dance. “My sedative?”
“Of course.” He felt rather than heard Severus come up behind him. A glass vial was pushed into his hand, and he shivered at the feathery brush of Severus’ fingers against his palm. His hand closed around them as well as the vial, eyes closing at the small contact. He allowed his senses to memorize the feel of long fingers trapped with his own, slim and warm. A tremor ran through his body, despite the warmth of the fire. They had never touched before, not that Remus could remember. Not like this. He couldn’t seem to force his hand to open, to release Severus’ fingers and take the vial. He didn’t want to.
“You will be well, Remus.” The soft tone of Severus’ voice surprised him, shook him in a way he doubted anything else would. He snatched his hand away, vial trapped loosely in his fingers. He uncorked it unsteadily, draining the contents without a word. It tasted like nothing, really.
“Open the shades, please.” He couldn’t turn to look at the other man. Not after that. Merlin, how long had he held onto Severus’ hand? He felt his companion move to the window, heard the swish of the curtains opening, and he swore he could taste the faint ice of the moonlight as it slid like a knife over his flesh.
Everything tightened. He was suddenly like a spring that had been tightly wound, the Change uncoiling through him with silent force. The sensation that came over him was not unlike pins and needles, an electric tingling that slid over his bones and into his blood. He sank to his knees, keenly aware of the ways his body reshaped itself in a way he never had been before. Thing slid and twisted and flowed from one shape to another, reworking and fitting together to create something wholly unlike the form that had stood a moment ago.
Remus stood shakily, exhausted but not in any pain. He turned his eyes to Severus, regarding the man curiously. His wolfish mind wasn’t as complex as his human once, but there was still quite a bit that was still Remus. He met Snape’s eyes, aware of the scrutiny there. He tilted his head and turned away. He was tired and the blankets were warm and inviting. He turned about one amongst them and flopped over onto his side, stretching before the flames. He lay like that for a long while, watching the fire and thinking of things that there were no words for. His thoughts often slipped into images in this state, emotions and feelings and sensations rather than words.
But he was aware. He was aware of movement, and of a presence beside him suddenly. He lifted his head and watched Severus with curious eyes. The man was kneeling beside him, and Remus could smell a hint of fear coming from him.
“May I?” That same hushed tone from earlier. Remus didn’t entirely understand the question, but he understood the timidly outstretched hand. He watched it, eyes rivet to the slightly trembling fingers that seemed to be caught in some frightful limbo. They came no closer and at the same time made no move to draw away. Was he waiting for some sign from Remus? The werewolf made a low sound in his throat and butted his head against the hand which drew away immediately before settling gently against his skull.
Severus said nothing, but his fingers slowly threaded their way into Remus’ fur, tracing the curve of his skull with a delicate touch that was nothing the werewolf would ever associate with Severus Snape. Long fingers found their way into the shaggy main at Remus’ neck, carding through the thick fur on their slow journey to his shoulders. The werewolf stretched and wuffled contently under the attention. The part of him that was still Remus was very much aware that he wanted this man touching him. And touching him as carefully and tenderly as he was now.
Eventually sleep took over, despite Remus’ need to feel fingers and hands running along his back and sides, fingers scratching behind his ears and hitting that spot that made him growl in pleasure. But the change had taken a toll on him and he slipped into unconsciousness as Severus’ fingers stroked his neck.
***
The Morning After was never pleasant. Remus was still and sore, and there was a dull burning sensation in his joints. The fire was very low in the hearth, and he was dimly aware of something warm pressed against his back. His eyes refused to open, however, and his body won the argument that attempting to get it to move had caused. He made a noise-or at least attempted to-and wondered if more sleep would do the trick. But the warmth beside him moved, and something that had been draped across him became suddenly more prominent.
“Whazza?” he finally managed to mumbled, shifting with as much authority as he could muster. Silence behind him, but a silence that spoke volumes. It was coupled with a sudden tenseness that only a werewolf would notice. Bugger. He turned, slowly, keeping his body wrapped in what had been draped across him.
Severus was watching him. It was impossible to divine anything from the man’s expression which was as blank always, if a bit softened by sleep. His arm was still tossed across Remus, both of them covered by a loose blanket.
Memories of the night before came back to him. Fingers in his fur, hands running over him with a quiet reverence. The pain didn’t matter right now. They were wrapped in a warm cocoon that Remus was loathe to move from. He smiled sleepily, wondering if perhaps he was still dreaming.
“Good morning.”
The words shattered the moment. As soon as Remus had spoken, Severus drew away and stood with a cat’s quickness. Clean clothes were dropped next to Remus, and a moment later he heard the door slam.
***
Months passed. Nothing was ever said, but every full moon it was the same. Remus grew to look forward to his Changes, despite the pain they left him with. Despite Severus’ sedative, it was still worse every time. But it was worth it to lie underneath Severus’ hands, to feel his body unwind and come undone as his fur was ruffled, stroked, parted and caressed. And those few brief moments in the morning, when they would lie together both as men.
Remus was thinking on it while he did the dishes one evening, humming along with the wireless and watching a stray cat wander into the garden. He realized afterwards he should have seen it coming, should have recognized that odd tingling sensation for what it was.
But he didn’t, and he was unprepared for the convulsions that seized his body, knocking the plate from his hand to shatter against the sink. He watched it fall as if in slow motion, and a part of his mind told him to step back. But his body refused to listen, and he slipped forward as the porcelain flew apart, slivers embedding themselves in his hands.
He didn’t even realize he’d cried out. But hands were about him, pulling back and easing him to the floor. He was resting against Severus’ chest, and he was held tightly until the last of the tremors passed. He shook in the other man’s arms, dimly aware of soothing noises against his ear.
“You’re bleeding, Remus.”
He didn’t respond, but lay limp as Severus pulled the shards from his palm and wrapped his hand to stop the bleeding. He was quiet as he was lifted up, carried up the stairs and laid in his bed. Every now and again a tremor would rock his body, and he would whimper softly.
“It’s alright,” Severus said tucking the covers about him. “It’s simply an involuntary muscular reaction. I‘m surprised they‘re so far apart, to be honest. The sedative is working.”
“Mmm.” Remus closed his eyes, but opened them when he felt the brush of fingertips along his cheek. Severus was sitting on the bed beside of him, watching him with his usual inscrutable expression. “For how long?”
“For how long what?” Fingers traced the line of his jaw.
“How long will it work for?”
“Until you stop taking it. Do not spout maudlin grievances at me, Remus, you are going to be fine. Desperate playing at martyrdom has no place beneath my roof.”
“I’m not playing the martyr…”
“You always do, Remus.” Severus’ fingers continued tracing and retracing their path along his face, soft and reassuring. Eventually they wound their way into his hair. “You may not realize it, but you seem to enjoy your suffering. You flaunt it like a badge.”
“I have never…”
“Yes you do. You flaunt it by being so very obvious in your refusal to complain and your quiet acceptance. You never hesitate to point out how well you’ve done, despite your horrible odds. You take everyone’s burdens upon yourself and claim it your ‘duty’. Your very humility is your pride. You live to be a martyr Remus.”
“I hate you,” Remus mumbled with little conviction behind the worse. He leaned his head into Severus’ touch, one hand reaching up to twine his fingers through the other man’s. If it were allowed. The gentle fingers sliding through his hair were the same ones that parted his fur on the long full moon nights.
“Yes, you make that quite clear.” There was a hint of amusement in Severus’ voice. Remus chuckled weakly, his hand resting along with the Potions Master’s on the pillow, fingers laced together loosely .
“I do my best.”
A small part of him wished that this moment had never happened. When he was the wolf, it was different. There were no human reservations, no conflicting thoughts, no fears. There was just the feel of Severus’ hands.
“Get some sleep.” Thin fingers squeezed his briefly before attempting to disentangle themselves. Remus felt his own fingers, acting separately from his mind as they did that first full moon, tightening.
“What about you?”
“What about me, Remus?”
“Stay with me?”
Silence followed, cold and tense. Black eyes that had displayed a touch of emotion went dead and empty. Fingers went stiff and unresponsive. Severus’ entire posture changed and Remus knew he had gone too far.
“I am not ready for bed, yet.” Though not exactly the most harsh of statements, it was spoken in a voice that lacked all warmth.
“When…when you are?” It was Severus’ fault for offering that small hint of hope.
“Perhaps.”
Remus nodded, and released Severus’ hand. Fingers brushed back his hair, and to his surprise a pair of thin lips were pressed to his forehead lightly.
***
Werewolves are not generally sound sleepers, but Remus had been exhausted and he was ill. He slept well into the middle of the night, not fully coming to until he realized there was a presence in bed beside him. He rolled over, blinking in the dim light. He did feel a bit better after resting, and the bed was warm and comfortable. He curled his body around Severus’, feeling him shift and twist.
“Remus?”
“Hullo.” Remus smiled, resting his forehead against Severus’. He felt the other man’s hand on his side, light and reassuring.
“How are you feeling?”
“Not bad.”
“Good. You should be sleeping.”
“I did sleep,” Remus pointed out. “I slept quite a bit, from the feel of it.”
“I’ve no idea what time it is,” Severus said. “I came to bed about nine. I would guess it is sometime after midnight.”
“Then yes, I slept at least six hours.”
“And now what do you plan to do?”
“Oh…I don’t know…” Remus smiled, wrapping his arms around Severus and pulling him closer.
“You cannot be serious, Remus.”
“About what?”
“About this!”
“What is ‘this‘?” Remus couldn’t help the warmth that crept into his voice. “I’m not doing much other than talking to you…”
“You’ve a look in your eye.”
“I would hope I do, that’s what they’re there for.”
“I would request you cease that tone, Remus. It’s not going to get you anywhere.”
“I see.” He smiled, his intentions honestly innocent. Nothing much mattered other than the fact that Severus was beside him in bed, holding him and touching him.
“You should rest.” Dry lips brushed over his, sending shivers down his spine. He whimpered, softly, straining into the other man’s mouth with a desperate need. The kiss deepened, Severus’ lips parting to Remus’ insistent tongue. He couldn’t tell how long they lay there, no sound between them but heavy breathing and the occasional pleased murmur. But he was tired, and he pulled away before his body wouldn’t allow him to.
“Not a very good way to get me to rest,” he said.
“Consider it incentive.”
“Incentive?” They shifted a bit, Remus turning over onto his other side.
“Yes, incentive. If you don’t rest and take care of yourself it’s never going any further than that.” Severus’ body pressed against his, holding him from behind.
“Point taken.” Remus chuckled, losing his eyes and settling himself into the bed.
“You do realize that when I say you will be alright, it is more than empty reassurances?”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been making adjustments to your sedative. Medically speaking, you‘re going to be fine. I cannot promise you‘re going to get any better, but your condition will not deteriorate any further.”
“Thank you.” He didn’t know what else to say, really. He lay there silently, hands hooked in Severus’, thinking on the man who was sharing his bed. He could live very well as he was now. Especially considering he’d gotten what he came here for. That thought still cause blossoms of warmth somewhere inside of him.
“How long?” The question came after a long moment of silence, and caught the werewolf off guard.
“How long what?”
“This.” Severus kissed his neck, and nuzzled his hair. “How long?”
“Oh Merlin….” Remus sighed, thinking. “Honestly? Since about seventh year.”
“Ah.” Nothing more. No shock, no outrage, no demands for further explanations. Just the one simple word. As thought he had simply confirmed something Severus already suspected. “Goodnight, Remus.”
“Goodnight Severus.” He hesitated, his mind fighting with his tongue in a brief battle it lost miserably. “I love you.” He wanted to take the words back as soon as they left his mouth. He’d nearly mucked things up already today…
“Yes yes, and I you. Goodnight Remus.”
Well that settled that. That had not been the reaction Remus expected, but it surpassed even his wildest dreams. It was rather funny, he reflected, how things worked out sometimes. Five months ago he wasn’t even sure he’d live to see another full moon, and now he had essentially been told he had the rest of his life to look forward to with Severus Snape.
And that was a damn good thing to look forward to.
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