This was written for Hogwarts, where I am a Slytherin (hiss hiss), Assignment #6: Herbology #2: Write about being injured
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There are a lot of other prompts used, all listed after the fic.
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Ok. This is a really personal/selfish fic (wow Lucy, good job). I wasn't even planning on writing it, but I had a bit of a… thing happen today (well, technically yesterday... but I'm still up, so it's today) that I couldn't ignore. It's been emotionally exhausting, and I needed… really needed to get it all out. This fic doesn't come close to getting it all out, but… eh… it's a start.
P.S. The thing of mine was basically what happens in the fic, except instead of the kitchen, it was my bed, and instead of a beautiful irl boyfriend, it was my beautiful online (fake) fiance. Sadly, the technical things are not dramatized… if anything, they are downplayed because it is hard as hell to properly put pain into words.
This is an muggle!AU, set in the present day, and Remus has a genetic disorder called EDS. If you have read my ANs before, you probably know that I have EDS. There isn't all that much you need to know about the disorder to read the fic, only that it is incredibly painful and doctors don't know how to help it (or even recognize it a lot of the time). If you have any questions about EDS, PM me and I'll fill you in. But, for now, read a selfishly written fic.
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Summary: Remus has a genetic disorder called EDS, and when he ends up unable to move on the kitchen floor, he just about loses all control over himself.
Warnings: It swears a bit, has (strongly implied... maybe even more than that) depression, and describes physical pain brought on by a disorder.
Word Count (excluding A/N): 1429
Hold Me (Injuries Aren't Just Physical)
Remus sighed as he looked up at the ceiling, slowly wrapping his arms around his stomach and knotting his fingers around the tan wool of his jumper. He was lying on the kitchen floor, two perfect lines of dried tears on his temples, connecting his eyes to his tawny curls. He didn't want to be on the floor, but he wasn't ready to get up… not yet.
He wasn't ready to give up, either, but he was getting close.
When he heard the door to his flat open, Remus felt the intense desire to stand up and pretend everything was okay, but he knew better; standing up now would probably end up with him screaming and falling back to the floor. Instead of moving, Remus closed his eyes.
"S-Siri?" Remus called, his voice catching slightly on his boyfriend's name. "Is that you?"
A loud thump sounded, presumably from a shoulder-bag being dropped, before Sirius replied, "Yeah, it's me, love." Two more thumps followed—combat boots being taken off—then the soft sound of socked feet pattering across hardwood floor. "You weren't answering your mobile, so I figured I'd pop in and check… check on you."
Remus opened his eyes to see his boyfriend standing over him, a light frown on his lips. "I'm down here because I want to be," Remus stated, his arms tightening around his torso as he saw Sirius's frown deepen.
"Where." Sirius's voice was almost sharp, but there was concern heavily laced within the single syllable he spoke.
Remus knew better than to withhold information about his condition from Sirius—Sirius was one of his only safe places, and he didn't want to lose him by being dishonest. "Hip," he breathed, closing his eyes again. "Dislocated it, I think… 'bout an hour ago."
"And you didn't call me?"
"My phone is in my bedroom," Remus replied sheepishly, feeling pressure building up behind his eyes again. He didn't want to cry, not anymore—he just wanted everything to go away.
He felt Sirius kneeling down close by, and he caught a comforting whiff of vanilla and juniper berries, Sirius's artificial scent. "This is your third injury this week," Sirius said with a soft sigh, lifting Remus's head up with gentle hands before laying him back down in his lap. "First your rib, then your wrist, now this?"
Remus sighed, not wanting to remember his pathetic injuries. "I was just walking," he mumbled, his eyes still closed. That's how things went with him; he got hurt from the most mundane and boring things. He dislocated a rib simply by sneezing, and had sprained his wrist while trying to open up a jug of milk—it was only natural that the culprit of his latest injury was something that toddlers did easily.
"How many kisses do you need?" Sirius asked before brushing back Remus's hair and pressing warm lips to his forehead.
He couldn't explain it, but Remus felt a sudden surge of annoyance towards his boyfriend. "I have this medical condition called Personal Space," he grunted, weakly reaching his hand up and pushing Sirius away, only to move his torso just a little too much, prompting a sharp, tearing pain to stem from his hip and move down his thigh; he let out an involuntary cry.
"No, Rem," Sirius said calmly—Remus wondered, behind all of the pain that made his mind fuzzy, how Sirius could be so calm and steady. "You have a painful genetic disorder, and I know that affection helps, so... stop being a twit and let me love you."
Remus was quiet for a moment, the pressure behind his eyes finally breaking free, forcing a light stream of silent tears down the sides of his face, running rivets down well-known paths—it was a surprise that he didn't have permanent stains from crying, as he did it so often. "Thanks for sta-aying with me."
"I'll always stay with you, Rem," Sirius whispered, brushing away his tears with gentle and practiced hands. "Things will get better, you'll see."
Remus opened his eyes, feeling despair clawing at him, becoming almost as painful as the constant throb in his right hip. His vision was blurry, but he could still make out his boyfriend's beautiful features. "You... just don't get it, do you." Remus felt his voice crack, and he had to pause before continuing. "It… I won't get better. Next week… in five years… I'm going to end up on the floor again. What then? What are you going to do?"
Sirius shifted slightly, his fingers still wiping periodically at Remus's tears. "I'm gonna do the best I can," he said softly. "This isn't something you have to deal with alone. I know it's depressing—"
"It's not depressing, Siri," Remus interrupted, his amber eyes hardening slightly. "It's fucking demoralizing. Every single day I wake up wondering what stupid, simple thing is going to send me to the hospital, and every single day I say a prayer, begging God to let it not be my last day walking."
Sirius took a breath, preparing to say something, but Remus interrupted again, his rant picking up in speed and raising in volume—it might have been intimidating if he weren't lying on the kitchen floor with cookies burning in the oven.
"You don't know what it's like to have to deal with doctors accusing you of drug seeking because they don't understand your condition, or professors accusing you of laziness because they don't understand how pain makes you forget about stupid shit like homework, or the average person accusing you of attention seeking because you randomly pass out, or make a noise because of a dislocation. All I want, the only thing I want, is a perfect body—not one that looks a certain way… just one that works like it's supposed to so I can live a proper, fucking life."
The tension in the air was thick, and Remus felt like he was going to choke under its pressure; there was more that Remus wanted to say—needed to say even—but he couldn't focus enough to get the words out. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He wanted everything to be over.
Then Sirius's lips were on his forehead again, and Remus felt a calm wash over him. "Will you let me speak now?" Sirius asked softly, and Remus nodded, finally allowing himself to properly relax into his boyfriend's embrace.
"I can't understand exactly what you have to live with every moment, and I never will be able to, but I can and will try, and I can and will try to help as much as I can and to make you happy," Sirius said, his thumbs still comfortingly stroking Remus's temples. "There may be no cure for your condition, but I've seen you battle through it in all these months I've known you, and I know how brilliant you are. I have faith in you, Rem, and I know you'll make it through this."
Regulus was sobbing, no longer showing his agony in silence, by the end of Sirius's words, but maybe, he thought, maybe crying was good—maybe he this was what he needed to get all of his pent up emotions out.
"I won't say it's gonna be fine, because we both know it isn't gonna be," Sirius whispered softly, setting his forehead on Remus's, "but you are the strongest person I know, and I know you'll make it through everything EDS throws your way."
Remus lifted his hand up, careful not to move the lower part of his torso, and buried his fingers in Sirius's long hair, needing to be grounded as his sobs slowly slipped into whimpers.
"It's going to hurt like hell to get up," Remus whispered in a shaky voice.
"Are your crutches still in your closet?" Sirius asked in reply, ever calm and collected; Remus almost envied him for his emotional control.
"Yeah." Remus paused, his body tightening slightly. "I'm scared."
"To move?" Sirius questioned, his thumbs rubbing gently circles into Remus's skin.
"Of the pain that comes with moving… can we stay like this for a little longer?" Remus hated how childish his voice sounded, but he couldn't help himself—he was terrified, and had every right to act a little like a kid. He knew that he would have to get up at some point, no matter how much it hurt, and resume his life; he knew that he would have to subject himself to pain, scream worthy, horrible agony.
He just wasn't ready.
"Of course, love," Sirius whispered. "We can stay like this for as long as you need."
A/N 2.0 - Prompts:
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Autumn Seasonal:
- Day: October 19 - Write about someone dissatisfied with their life, but not knowing how to change it.
- Autumn Prompt: (object) Jumper
- Color: Tan
- Birthstone: Pearl - (dialogue) "I have this medical condition called Personal Space
- Air Element: Gemini - (pairing) Remus/Sirius
- Audrey's Dessert: (Sponge Flavours - Characters): Remus Lupin
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Gris-Gris Bag: (character) Remus Lupin
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Writing Clubs:
- Disney Challenge Dialogue #3: "What are you going to do?" / "I'm gonna do the best I can."
- Book Club #4 (Barbara):
-(trait) calm
-(emotion) depressed
-(word) prayer
- Showtime #7: (dialogue) "How many kisses do you need?"
- Lyric Alley #15: I want a perfect body
- Em's Emporium #8: (quote) "You just don't get it."
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So yeah, that was kinda how my nightmare of a day went, except it was through my phone that I got words of comfort, and my parents brought me crutches, and holy shit my hip still hurts like hell... my whole leg is so sore. I hate it.. but... I'll live. I'm actually feeling a lot better now that I've written this (and also that I kept having Ari talk to me and tell me all sorts of inspirational shit and what not. Thanks for being there for me, love. I really appreciate it. And I appreciate all of my quidditch team. y'all help me more than I can ever say. So thanks).
Lucy out!