Solitude

By BabyBee

Companion piece to Silence

Disclaimer: Ok everybody, it's time to get out the sheet music and play the real waltz, I don't own them, our Angel does. I just giggle madly while playing with them and then put them back when ordered.

Rating: PG13. Hints of slashiness. Nothing graphic. I don't. I just don't.

Pairing: Remus/Sirius. If you don't, then adios. If you do, call me. ;)


I like the solitude. It's nice. I run towards him with his face in my mind, and the wind in my fur. It's a nice combination. (Oh rabbit. Mmmm. Whoa I don't think so little rabbit. Gotcha. I like rabbit.)

The day is fading, and I know I won't reach him tonight. My dog's heart is content, knowing that tomorrow, or the next day perhaps, I'll be there. My human heart isn't so sure. But if I press on, I'll likely run the pads off of my feet. As it is, the hands that caress him the first time will likely be a lot less gentle than I could have wanted.

I don't think he'll mind.

I hope.

Yes, after 14 years I still hope. The Dementors couldn't take that from me because there was no happiness in it. No starry-eyed dreams for me. Those have died long ago; perhaps in a fit of madness I killed them. Or perhaps they simply died of starvation. I don't know. I don't care. But I still hope. I hope for common, everyday things that aren't happy, but joyous. There is a difference, one the eaters of souls never knew.

I hope for long days with sunshine. I hope for the warmth of his touch. I hope for kisses and caresses that lead everywhere and nowhere. I hope…

I know he feels me. Has felt me from the moment I slipped through the Dementors' gaze and started my long trek north. I can't feel him. If I were a werewolf we would most likely have a tandem mind link. But I am as a muggle to his wizard, and there is no two-way communication between us. But it is enough that he feels me. Enough that he waits. I know he waits. His touch, that one simple touch, told me that he would wait forever. That and the chain around his neck with the two rings hidden in his robes. I felt them when we embraced. Our rings.

I placed that ring on his finger two days before James placed a similar one on Lily's. We were so happy then. So stupidly happy. I will never feel that way again. We had such dreams. Now they are ash and wormwood. Bitter.

They took my ring from me in Azkaban. Somehow, I don't know how, Remus got them to give it to him. What a joke. In 14 years the feel of it around my heart never diminished, even as the mark around my finger faded. Werewolves aren't the only ones who mate for life.

He could not save me. I know he fought as long as he could. But in the end, it was up to me. And it took me 14 years to do it. I hope he forgives me. I hope.

(What's that! Bear. No little bear you don't want to come over here. Go on. Go on. Good little bear.)

We asked James first. The Godfather thing. We wanted children. And James and Lily seemed perfect for it. You know, put away a little money for their Hogwarts education. Our kids. Their kids. Kind of like cousins. James liked the idea. And he got their first. Oh Jamie, we never knew we were playing with fire. We never knew how it would burn.

The wind is cold. I don't mind. My fur is thick and warm. My right rear paw is bleeding. I lick it and tell it that if it will just hold out a little longer there will be a nice warm bath, healing ointments, and a lover's touch. It doesn't care much. It stings and seeps and will crust over by morning. I rest. It's all I can do.

I'm not alone though. Never alone. The ghosts haunt me, as they always will. Jamie and Lily. Harry. And my beloved. So much death. So much sorrow. Was it the price we had to pay for the joy we had? I hope not. But if so, I think I've paid enough. For all of us.

I hope.

I hope for winter days and running in the snow. I hope for moonlit nights when I can kiss him once more before the cresting of the moon. I hope for strong coffee and warm arms. I hope for gentle companionship, and tender lovemaking. I hope. I hope for peace.

I…hope he has an extra toothbrush and strong toothpaste. I hope he has good shampoo and perhaps a pair of scissors to cut the mats out of my hair. I hope he has a big bathtub and plenty of strong soap. I hope…he doesn't have to wait too long. I like solitude. Always have. But enough is enough.

It's time for the solitude to end.