Birthday fic for Rin

Aug 19, 2005 18:06

Ummm...this was intended to be fluff. I am apparently incapable of angstless romance. Go figure.

Posting this a day early because everyone likes early birthday presents. Happy early birthday, Rin! :D

Title: with the rain of ruined leaves
Author: waxrose
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 661
Summary: October has taken on a new meaning, blood everywhere, confusion, war and the wide-eyed, terrified dead.
Notes: Birthday ficlet for failingicarus. The title and verses are from the poems "September" and "In October" by Archibald Lampman - a Canadian poet who I firmly believe was a R/S fanboy born in the wrong century, as proven by his poem, "Sirius". This takes place around September - November 1980. Thanks to sioniann for the wonderful beta!



As slowly earthward leaf by red leaf slips,
The sad trees rustle in chill misery,
A soft, strange inner sound of pain-crazed lips

The days are getting colder, and he often wakes to frost lacing across the bedroom window, the sharp tang of fall in the air and Sirius's soft cursing as he stumbles towards the bathroom on the freezing floor.

It's been two years, and yet Remus still associates September with steam billowing from a crimson train and laughter that had, for two months previous, only been heard in his mind as he read each letter from his friends like a starving man. But October has taken on a new meaning, blood everywhere, confusion, war and the wide-eyed, terrified dead. The wizarding world was at war, and every day brought news of death, disappearance, heartbreaking tragedy over breakfast ("Toast, Moony?").

But at night, Remus reflects on the warmth of Sirius's hands holding him, the soft shush of his snores buried in the juncture of Remus's neck and shoulder. And he decides that, even if it was rather selfish, there are moments like this when he is happy - really happy.

They move and murmur incoherently;
As if all leaves, that yet have breath, were sighing.
With pale hushed throats, for death is at the door

James and Lily take the attempt on their lives in stride, speaking calmly and planning. The only hint that they aren't simply making a grocery list evident in Lily's trembling fingers as she takes the cup of tea Remus hands her, visible in tight line of James's mouth as he clutches Harry as if someone was trying to tear him from his arms.

Sirius stands near the window, staring out over the city, eyebrows drawn together, eyes dark and dangerous. His shoulders are tense, teeth savaging his lower lip as he quietly broods. Remus wants to draw him out of himself, hold him and find a way to be strong together. James and Lily seem to gravitate towards each other in their shock and grief - finishing each other's sentences, communicating in half-glances. Drawing strength and comfort from each other.

But Sirius seems to drift away from Remus in moments like this, leaving Remus to stumble around and deal with things in the only way he's ever known, a grim, determined sort of stoicism and few hundred cups of tea.

So many low soft masses for the dying
Sweet leaves that live no more

Sirius doesn't come home at night anymore.

Remus curls the blanket about his fingers and listens to the laughter of children outside, running from door to door, shadows against brick walls in the flickering light of pumpkin lanterns.

And I will ask them what golden madness,
What blamed breaths of dreamland spicery,
What visions of soft laughter and light sadness
Were sweet last month to me?

When he wakes, Sirius is there. Dirty, sweaty, angry, but alive and home, even if only for a shower and a bit to eat before he leaves to ("Do something for the Order, Moony - can't say what, of course.") spy, kill, hide behind a black mask and betr - no, he won't think that. Can't think it.

He wants to cry, he wants to scream until his throat is hoarse and if he's really honest with himself, he wants Sirius to leave for good, for real, without coming back to taunt him with half-promises of a life they once shared. Something poisonous and cold has crept between them and he can't face the man he loved anymore.

But Sirius does come back, less frequently, thinner and half-crazed. They're both clinging to something that's already slipped from their fingers and shattered. It's a shred of bitter comfort in desperate times, a reminder of how much they loved each other and why that didn't last.

Sirius always comes back, eventually.

So in the end, it’s Remus who leaves for good, battered suitcase in hand.

Determined to not look back.



Cross-posted to remusxsirius

fanfiction:harry potter

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