written randomly, inspired by "Rikki Don't Lose That Number" by Steely Dan. Post-HBP. Implications...ish...
not mine. just my plot idea.
They came to his door a week later. The bag was packed, the pictures carefully stowed away, the flat bare, and yet not a one of them were surprised. They were expecting him, Remus knew. They knew he would go.
"I wish you wouldn't, though," Molly tells him sadly. "I don't believe Albus wanted anyone to leave."
For a moment Remus wishes he was not himself, so he could snap back. But Molly doesn't deserve that, so instead he replies "I don't think he wanted anyone to die, but that never stopped them. It's not permanent, Molly, it's just…"
"You're not fooling anyone, Remus, least of all yourself." This was Tonks, a pleading expression on her face. She still hadn't quite forgiven him for his steady refusal, but then, she didn't know half of what he was. Didn't know the many life could tear him apart…and Remus didn't love her, not like she wanted. That was the long and short of it. He could no more love her that way than extinguish the moon, much as he'd like to.
(What he truly wants is beyond even that, though, and he has an idea Molly knows. But he has no way to achieve it, and so tries not to think of it…)
So he smiled falsely. "I am managing, thank you."
(He can see the shadow falling off into the distance – not an actual shadow, but shadow enough to hide from the sun.)
"But you're leaving," Molly persisted.
"Why?" demanded Tonks.
The rest stood and allowed their appointed females do the talking. Remus at once knew that they were not a backup, but truly did want to see his reaction. It was as if the entire Order was before his door, and Remus was reminded of another such time. Last time their intentions had not been so friendly.
"I'd much rather keep my reasons to myself. And yes, I am leaving. Please don't bother to write me; I probably won't receive anything where I'm going."
He was not intending to die, not yet, although truth be told he wouldn't care one way or the other if he did. Remus was beyond the point of caring about what happened to him – all he wanted was a little break from where he was. He would throw his life into forging alliances with the werewolves, and wait for them to attack. Maybe they would not – but he would never be sure.
("Dealings with demons," whispered a familiar voice in the back of his memory, "you're making deals with demons every time you go."
"But they're not demons," he had insisted.
"No," the other had agreed, "they're not, but they can be.")
"We will be seeing you again, right?" Tonks persisted. Molly sighed, shaking her head; at least one of them knew when to give up.
Remus could have given some half-truth, or even told the actual truth, but he was tired of baring his soul. "Of course," he lied instead.
He hoped someone would take this as the goodbye he'd meant it to be.