Disclaimer: Harry Potter DOES belong to me! I've stolen it! MWAHAHAHAHA (is dragged off to asylum in straight jacket)
Summary: He was awake, that much he knew, but he felt distanced from himself, only vaguely feeling the uncomfortable springs of the hard mattress underneath an aching back.
Rating: T for death and Lupin's schizophrenia in the shape of something big and hairy and definitely not Padfoot.
Alone.
Rain crashed against the old, dust layered and grime covered windows, loud whistles of wind penetrating the dead silence of the night, accompanying its loud patters.
He was awake, that much he knew, but he felt distanced from himself, only vaguely feeling the uncomfortable springs of the hard mattress underneath an aching back.
One blink. Two. He was back (whether willingly or not he still has to figure out), fully conscious, the still numbness remaining. Always remaining.
But easing enough for him to feel pain. The physical pain…
… and the pain that's remained with him for more years than he'd like to count.
His other half stirred, muttering in a growl of how pathetic he was. Of how disgustingly human he was.
And there, sitting innocently on the beside table, almost as if to spite him, were the smiling faces and happy waves. Eyes, against his will, assessed those cheerful people dispassionately.
Long auburn hair, emerald green eyes (Dead. Hit in the chest with a light as green as those eyes).
Messy black hair, round glasses. (Dead. Those glasses shattered into innumerable pieces with a body laying beside them, motionless, lifeless).
Handsome face, black hair falling gracefully into grey eyes. (Dead. Same handsome face, only years older, only years gaunter, twisted in shock as his body gracefully arched backward, haunted grey eyes wide).
Short, mouse like, looking years younger than the others in the picture and his other half stirred at just the sight of the rat. (Traitor. Dietearapartripspillbloodkillsinkinteethfeast. Years had finally caught up with the rat the last time he saw the rat's face, wrinkles, flesh and fat sagging).
The last person stood slightly off to the side, face sickly pale, smiling weakly at the camera, eyes going wide in surprised shock when the one with the handsome face dragged him in closer, wrapping an arm around thin shoulders and cheeky grin growing.
A soft, melancholy smile curved his lips as his eyes strayed back staring at the cracks on the ceiling. We really were quite the bunch… Voice as sad as his smile, his murmur was barely above a whisper.
His other half growled in disapproval. Not pack. Pack not leave one behind.
His sad smile faded and he became numb once again.
He had to agree with his other half.
They left him behind.
Now he's got no one.
Now he's…
(Alone)