A/N: I've never tried anything like this before... after reading one beautiful Remus/Sirius, Remus/Tonks story, I just sat and wrote this. Consider it a present of recognition for my older sister (who cannot agree with me on the terms she's a Remus/Sirius shipper).. but I couldn't help put in that happy ending.
And You Love Again
She watches you, you know. She can't bear seeing you locked up in your room like this, chasing after a fluttering blue 'kerchief, just a memory floating on the wind. You're chasing something you can't catch, Remus. You're chasing after Sirius. James. Padfoot, Prongs. You're chasing after their memory.
They're dead, Moony. You can't bring them back, you can't bring the Marauders back.
She worries about you, you know. She sees how quiet and reserved you are on the rare occasions you go downstairs. It's simply not healthy to be that calm and placid. And really, you're not. Inside, the maelstrom of sadness and anger and downright confusion swells up, threatens to break the bonds you've slapped on. Your self-control won't last forever, Remus. You can't stay in your wooden cage forever, Moony. You're breaking.
Ragged cloth, strips of torn sanity, ripped paper, shattered glass, swirling.
She's waiting for you, you know. Whenever you venture down the stairs of the house you abhor for reeking of his memory, she's there, sitting at the table. Waiting. You can't ignore her forever, you know. She reminds you of him. She reminds you of them. One day, her hair's shoulder-length, black as a raven's wing on high; the next day, her hair drapes over her shoulders in waves of auburn sunshine, another day, and it's short, spiky, bubblegum pink. One element remains constant, though. Her face - it's a porcelain mask of pale fragility.
Dark eyes, raven hair, laughing face, Sirius.
She cries for you, you know. She sees you cracking, jagged ebony lines against bone-white shell. You'll burst, explode, collapse, erupt, shatter. Saline tears are fallen for you. You're not alone. She misses you too. Why won't you see that? Why won't you see past your selfish mourning? You're drowning in memories.
That day, you go downstairs, looking for wine to drown your sorrows. She sits there, at the kitchen table. Pale skin against mahogany wood. Crystal blue eyes, cherry red lips, explosive orange hair. She is colour. He was black and white.
You can't believe the differences you see now. This isn't right, you think, this isn't him.
How are you, she asks. Are you over it? she says.
You stare at her. Her full lips form those four last words, and they seem mocking. Are you over it? Are you over them? Are you over him?
You shake, knuckles clenched white, teeth gritted. The wolf cannot break out. But Remus, those four words. Are you over it? Are you over it?
She doesn't understand. She doesn't see.
You open your mouth, and yells flow out. You don't know what you're saying, you don't see how each wave of red-raw words crash against her, like the morning tide against craggy rock. You're blinded by the stinging cries you utter. You scream at her about James, Sirius, the Marauders. Sirius. Sirius.
She's crying now, you know. Tears, saccharine salt, dripping on the solid wooden table. She's trying to keep it in, bottle it up.
Wotcher, Mr. Lupin, I'm an Auror, call me Tonks!
You see the similarities and the differences. Sirius, then Tonks. Sirius again. Tonks.
Her rainbow flashes, and you watch helplessly as she stands up, shaking, shoulders wracked with sobs. You idiot! she shrieks. You bloody idiot! Why don't you realise? You - you -
Her eyes flash, become green. Pickles, peas, Lily's eyes, Harry's eyes.
Why don't you ever see? I'm waiting for a reason, you imbecile. Don't say you don't know. Don't say you haven't seen!
You stare at her, dumbfounded. She looks at you, sadness in her eyes, on her face, in her posture. Shaking her head, she turns.
Then, in a millisecond of realised truth, you see. Rainbows and darkness, pallid skin and rosy cheeks, dark hair and tresses of brightness, sunshine casting shadows away.
You feel the thrill of her. The darkness, memories, locked boxes reminding of Sirius, flush away into nothingness. You put a hand on her shoulder, and she stiffens.
Then, you kiss her, and birds of rainbows casting love over the horizon dawn. She looks at you, smiling, her eyes happily shining. You find the strength to smile.
And you love again.