Evalanis
Remus gently fingered the frayed, moth-eaten ends of the lace curtains, the only ones that still hung in the old house. Each time they shifted he would marvel at the dust that glittered its way through the air. It floated up, quickly, thoroughly displeased with the sudden disturbance, and then began its slow trek to the floor, to find its long-lost companions who dwelled there.
Remus sniffed and gingerly tugged on the blanket. He shuddered as his hand smeared the red blood across the floor. He feebly wiped the back of his hand on the blanket and then turned his eyes to see the state of things.
The pool was bigger, much bigger than before. It was thicker, deeper, more widespread. And it seemed dangerously darker. It had been so long since he had awoken, so long since he realised what his wolf-self had done. How much longer would it be until…
Remus let out a raspy breath and then drew another. He lifted his hand to touch the curtain again, but it fell to the ground, his elbow splashing lightly in the pool of blood (how much could there possibly be left?). His hand shook, his wrist ached, and he felt so cold. He tried pulling the blanket over his shoulders, but he was so weak.
Remus closed his eyes.
Where is he? He thought. Why isn't Sirius here?
'He's at school, you idiot,' Remus muttered to himself. His words flowed awkwardly into one another.
In his mind, he pictured Sirius, surrounded by the gentle glow of morning through lace curtains. He pictured Sirius's smile. So loving.
Remus sniffed again. His breaths became quick as he sobbed dry tears. He imagined, for a moment, Sirius's eyes, caught from the side in a wicked grin, full of wonder and mischief.
'Help me,' Remus whispered. He felt like he should be crying, yet no tears came. His stomach felt light and heavy at the same time. He winced, the blanket was soaking up the blood now, turning red from the old forgotten yellow it had been.
'Remus,'
Remus smiled, imagining Sirius' voice. He closed his eyes again, pictured Sirius walking through a house much like this one would have been. So open, so bright, so many windows. He saw Sirius walking down the halls, tea in one hand and wand in the other, muttering spells under his breath, trying to find the right word to perfect his latest conjuration.
'Moony,' Remus imagined he would whisper. Just like that. 'Moony!' Sirius would shout.
Shout.
Remus' eyes snapped open as Sirius's knees collided heavily with the floorboard next to him. Immediately, Remus was dragged up from the ground, cradled in those arms despite the blood that soaked his shirt and flowed, always flowed, from the tear in his stomach. Sirius looked down at him with those wonderful eyes, all full of alarm.
'I fell,' Remus croaked. Sirius didn't seem to be listening.
'Get help!' Sirius yelled. Remus thought it was silly that Sirius would tell him to get help – he could hardly move!
'I broke a chair, and then I fell on it,' he muttered. Sirius nodded, wiping the hair off Remus's face.
He rocked Remus back and forth, whispering about how help was coming, and Remus was an idiot for falling, and how Sirius loved him more than anything, and how chairs are uniquely dangerous. Sirius rocked back a bit farther and knocked the curtain. Dust fell from every part of the lace, hovering in the air a while to inspect this new disturbance. It glowed around Sirius' head, and Sirius turned to see what Remus was looking at, and the morning light caught just perfectly in his eyes and they shone, so brightly silver.
'You look lovely in dust,' Remus whispered. There was some kind of faint golden-green light behind him, and Sirius was talking to it, pleading with it. Why plead with light? Thought Remus. Very silly.
And then a strange, timeless voice spoke, and it whispered a word.
'Evalanis,'
The pain stopped, and Sirius was looking into his eyes with that lovely smile, and whispering his name.
'Love you, Remus,' he whispered. Then Remus knew everything would be alright.