Title: Existence
Disclaimer: Artwork is by uppuN ( uppun. deviantart art/ Remus-and-Sirius- 136379719)
Rating: M
Warnings: Dark AU
Chapter 01: Silver Burns
There are spots on the ceiling that Sirius can never decipher. He lies in this couch every session and stares at them. He stares at the black spots that look suspiciously like shoe marks and green ones that Sirius wonders if they're mold. There are white crusty ones that can be a result of a bad paint job or a very badly aimed ejaculation. Sirius tries to think of reasons why these spots are there, since there isn't much else that he is doing in this mundane office. The doctor asks questions out of a paper as if she's reciting a poem and Sirius answers mechanically, without thinking.
'If there was something you hated, Sirius. Something you hated with all your might; what would that be?'
Sirius frowns and tilts his head. 'Women.'
'Can you tell me why?'
'You're a doctor, aren't you? You tell me. Or did you not do your homework on me? It's written there, isn't it; in that big file of yours?' Sirius bites back. He doesn't like talking about what he hates. It brings back memories and resurfaces the spite he tries to control so helplessly. The hate within him is immense and when he talks, he feels consumed by it. 'You think I can even stand to look at women after going through everything my mother and my bloody cousins did. You think I can stand to look at the sole reason the world is in chaos today and my world has sunk lower into shit that any fucking shoe will ever go. Don't fuck with me, Doctor.'
'I read your file. Will you tell me about your mother? What was she like?'
Sirius laughs, tears pooling in his eyes. 'Come to the manor and I'll show you.' His mother. Oh, his mother; his mother. How he loves her and how he hates her. He goes to her gravesite every year during her death anniversary and he talks to her. He tells her everything he's done and all the decisions he's made, half expecting her to wake up and yell at him. He thinks she is the kind of woman who would awake from her grave; a real witch and monster. Something as insignificant as death will never slow her down 'She's stuck herself into a fucking portrait on the wall and everyday she screams. She screams and screams and screams and tells me what a miserable fucking son I am.' Sirius smiles, as he realises that he must go back home after this and listen to her again. 'You know what's funny, Doctor, I can even hear her in your office. It's like she's following me. I think, if she ever stopped, I would go mad. Do you think I'm insane, Doctor?'
'What about your cousins?'
'I killed them.' Sirius bursts into peals of laughter this time. His throat is hoarse and his eyes itch, but he laughs anyway. He laughs because he finds that revenge is truly sweet, and even though Bella's screams sometimes echo in his head, it is utterly satisfying. 'They killed my family, so I killed them. It was the best fucking day of my life.'
'What about your likes, Sirius? What makes you happy?'
Sirius stops laughing, as he finds himself surrounded by painful silence.
James apparated beside Sirius, nearly tripping over his own feet and losing the piles of files he'd decided to take home yet again. Sirius figured it was good to have James around. He was someone Sirius trusted and knew would put up with anything Sirius did. Despite his looks and childish behaviour, James was extremely intelligent when time required to be and had brilliant critique. The only thing Sirius did not appreciate about James was his blatant intrusion into Sirius's life and his forceful opinions on every decision Sirius made.
'I just can't fucking believe you, Sirius! Honestly, if you wanted a bloody pet, I would have gotten you a dog or something.'
Sirius sighed and unlocked the front door to the house. 'He's not a pet.' On cue, his mother's portrait started screeching obscenities, as Sirius's welcome to the house. Sirius had practically memorised her swears by now and greeted her calmly, as he passed on his coat to his house elf, Kreacher.
'Then what?' James asked, angrily, bringing his face far too close to Sirius's for comfort. 'Is it your sick way of committing suicide? Do you want to set him on someone to settle your personal vendetta? What, Sirius?'
Sirius shrugged and smiled mysteriously. 'I didn't ask you to come and inspect me.'
James grit his teeth. 'No, you didn't. I should have just left you alone to die, but I'm a fool; I can't help it. I can't exactly leave you alone with a bloodthirsty beast, an unpredictable one, nonetheless.' James ran a nervous hand through his hair, ruffling the back to make it stand, out of old habit. 'Merlin, what am I doing here? What if I die instead of you? My son will be fatherless.'
Sirius ignored him and walked towards the study. 'Kreacher, has our guest arrived yet?'
'Yes, Master,' Kreacher replied, walking quickly to keep pace with Sirius's long strides. He was an old elf, serving Sirius mostly out of ingrained loyalty to the Black family and his attachment to Sirius's younger brother, Regulus. He was going senile and often murmured under his breath for hours at a time, but Sirius had learned to ignore it a long time ago. He was concerned by the outcome of the elf's work, not his personality. 'It refuses to eats anything Kreacher gives, Master. Snarls, it does, and throws its food. Horrid, frightening creature.'
Sirius smiled to himself. Clearly pleased, he patted Kreacher's head reassuringly. 'Now, Kreacher, we need to get used to him. He's a new addition to our house. Why don't you go prepare dinner in the meantime?' Sirius glanced sideways towards James, who was grumpily and reluctantly following them to the study. 'It seems Master Potter will be staying with us for a while. I'll make sure to see to our new guest.'
Sirius opened the door, relishing in the sight of the bright silver cage that had previously been sitting in a damp carnival tent. He had him; this beautiful creature with fiery amber eyes and the heat that could scorch one's skin until it peeled. Sirius had him in his study, right within his grasp. The werewolf was sitting in the centre of the cage, his knees drawn to his chest and shaggy hair overpowering his entire frame. When Sirius purposefully shut the door loudly, it looked up and Sirius saw it; that expression that his entire being craved for.
'There's still time, Sirius,' James warned from behind, as they walked closer to the cage. 'Just say the word and I'll have him shipped back to the carnival or wherever it is he comes from. This isn't funny anymore.'
James stood still as Sirius circled the cage, inspecting the creature from every angle. The sensation of being watched for his every move sent adrenaline pumping through Sirius's veins, and he purposefully ventured closer and closer until his clothes were brushing threateningly against the bars.
'It could really hurt you, Sirius, and I don't like the look of this one, one bit,' James jittered on, moving his feet from side to side warily. 'If you want a werewolf so badly, we could get the other ones. Fuck, I'll tape ears and a tail to some wino on the street and present it to you. You-'
Sirius stood up and held out his hands. 'James, the papers, if you please?'
James grimaced. 'Fuck, why do I even bother talking sense into you?' He put down his files on the table and started shuffling around angrily. 'You stopped listening to me after school. Oh-' Something packaged in red fell out of James's pocket to the ground.
Sirius immediately noted the way the werewolf's eyes followed it and how his gaze lingered for a split second before turning away. 'What is that?' Sirius asked, watching for any other unexpected movements from the creature. 'The thing that just fell out: what is it?'
James raised an eyebrow. 'It's just chocolate. I usually keep some in my pocket for Harry. Would you like some, and- okaaayy…' James sighed exasperatedly as Sirius snatched the chocolate bar out of his hands and inspected it. 'You're welcome. Always here to cater to your sweet tooth. Oi, Sirius; what are you doing?'
'Testing out a theory,' Sirius grinned, pulling out his wand and casting an unlocking charm. The silver door creaked open noisily, as if unused for centuries. Sirius started unwrapping the chocolate as he entered the cage, making sure the door closed securely behind him. Casting a quick spell on the door to shut it tight again, Sirius slowly moved closer to the creature.
'Sirius, get out this instant! Are you absolutely off your rockers?' James rushed to the bar, rattling the cage loudly. 'You're going to die. Sirius!'
Sirius ignored James. He was surprised the creature hadn't pounced yet, nor did it move a single muscle, as Sirius inched closer on his knees. He was watching Sirius intensely, following the way his fingers broke off a piece of the chocolate and placed it on the floor. It was odd for a creature, considered a lower category than humans, to look someone so boldly in the eye, as if challenging Sirius to make a wrong move. No, it was as if he was warning Sirius not to come any closer; not to step beyond the boundaries the werewolf was already granting him.
Sirius slid the piece of chocolate closer to him.
'Sirius, get out!'
Sirius was caught by surprise when the werewolf glared at him and flung the chocolate away with the back of his hand. There was no doubt that the creature wanted it; it had to be hungry after spending an entire day refusing food. He didn't look weak, but his ribs looked tattooed underneath his skin and his eyes hollowed and veined. Sirius remembered Fallon mentioning issues with feeding the werewolf; yet, he felt it was something beyond as simplistic as hunger and survival.
'Sirius, god damn it, you bloody git! This is dangerous!'
Curiously, Sirius broke off another piece; this time, holding it out in his hand as an offering. Slowly, he scooted closer, making sure not to make any sudden movements that could cause him to lose a limb. The creature watched him, muscles tensing and feet adjusting as if readying himself to spring. When Sirius was only inches away, the werewolf relaxed slightly, but continued his surveillance of Sirius. A slight hesitant twitch, and then he reached out for Sirius's proffered chocolate, sniffing it slightly before pushing the whole thing into his mouth.
Sirius laughed. Pride, he realised, with a twisted sort of fascination. Demoralised and reduced to something lower than an animal, but the creature still had its pride. A pride that reigned over his need for survival; a pride that the creature protected more than its own life. It was enchanting and captivating in every single way; this unadulterated and single minded need to preserve and showcase its pride.
'Sirius, you're getting too fucking close,' James yelled, clearly panicking as he paced around the cage with his wand at pinpoint. 'Get out. Get out or I swear, I'll pull my wand against it! Sirius!'
Sirius was delirious. Toy with it. Shatter it. Break it until it's irreparable. This life, this being, this pride; you're mine to do with what I please. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine….
'Sirius, step the fuck out of the cage. Look at his eyes. He's going to-'
Sirius was still laughing, as the creature attacked him suddenly, pushing him forcefully onto the ground. There was a dull thud where Sirius hit his back against the hard metal of the cage: the only place not coated with silver. He was snarling into Sirius's face threateningly, eyes swirling with flecks of gold, amber, and blood red at the same time. Eyes that were frighteningly insightful as they bore into Sirius's and carved through every thought.
Mine. Mine. Mine to control. Mine Mine. Mine to seize. Mine. Mine. Mine to throw away. Mine. Mine….
The creature's growl grew fiercer and Sirius felt the first indications of its strength, where his fingers dug into the gaps between each of Sirius's ribs painfully. The more Sirius thought about the werewolf, the deeper the fingers pressed; to a point Sirius's vision had gone entirely black and his neurons screamed from agony. Adrenaline was rushing into his body, his arms were begging to be used to fight back, to move and be rid of the pain. Groans escaped his lips to orchestrate the cracking of his ribs, and the back of Sirius's mind realised that they were not moans of pain.
His cock was painfully hard.
Mine. Mine. Mine. I'll own you….
'Don't you dare, James,' Sirius choked out, reading his friend's movements, even through pure blindness. 'Don't you dare raise your wand against him.' He felt blood regurgitating behind his throat, making his laughter come out in indecent gurgles. Sirius coughed and raised a shaky hand to the creature's head and stroked the rough mane of hair gently. 'He's mine.'
The fingers on his ribs loosen momentarily, surprised by the touch. Sirius used the moment of confusion to heal his wounds and breathe, still laying on the ground on his back. The pain was gone entirely, but the tangy taste of blood and stale smell of the creature's breath remained. Sirius closed his eyes and took in huge gulps of air.
'Merlin, Sirius, are you alright? Fuck, I'm unlocking the…'
As soon as Sirius's body had regained control of itself, Sirius sprung; taking the werewolf by surprise as he pushed him back and pinned both the werewolf's hands to the silver bars. Immediately, the wretched smell of burning flesh and a piercing scream filled the air. Sirius fed off on it, pushing the creature's palms flat onto the surface. Fall, the voices in his head cried, muffling James's screams on the outside. Fall! The screams grew louder, transforming into howls of pain, as Sirius pushed the werewolf's wrists to make contact with the bars. Fall! A single tear rolled down the creature's right eye and Sirius finally let go.
'Don't defy me, love,' Sirius whispered cockily, getting up and brushing off his clothes. He had a feeling the werewolf didn't hear him, since he had fainted almost immediately after Sirius had let go, burned hands falling to the side. Yet, he was sure the point had been sent across, as he stepped out of the cage and locked it.
'You fucking crazy bastard!' James screamed, pushing Sirius roughly at the shoulders. 'You motherfucking crazy bastard! You didn't have to go that far! It's a living being, for fuck's sake!' James ran to the side of the cage, a worried wand ready at his fingertips.
'Don't heal him, Jamie-boy,' Sirius advised and wasn't the least bit surprised that James heeded to him. James had never been like that when they were in school; he had been the first to reprimand Sirius and have him follow the conventional way of doing things. But that had been in the past; before the war and long before James suspected Sirius was too unstable to argue against anymore. James was right. 'He needs to remember this as his first lesson, so let him be as he is. He'll heal as he learns.'
James threw him a disgusted look and tucked his wand back into his pocket. 'I've had it with you. I've really, honestly, just had it with your fucking sick ways of doing things. Fuck you!' James threw on his coat and picked up his briefcase, throwing a single red folder at Sirius's chest. 'Here are your bloody papers! I hope the two of you rot in your own personal hell! Don't call me if you get killed!'
The door slammed shut behind James.
Sirius smiled, unperturbed and summoned his house elf. 'Kreacher, I want you to replace all our silverware. Wood, steel, whatever it is you fancy; but I want all our silverware gone. Also, from here forth, our guest will eat whatever I eat, so please look to that.' Sirius paid no mind to the dissatisfaction of Kreacher's face. 'That will be all, Kreacher. You may go.'
Sirius ran his hands across the silver bars of the cage, surveying the unconscious werewolf with a smile on his face. He was giddy from the sight alone, but the thought of the days to come with such a beautiful creature was what had him truly excited to the point where he was practically skipping on the balls of his feet.
Mine.
'Remus.'
The werewolf's eyes snapped open to look at Sirius.
'That's your name, isn't it?' Sirius asked, striding casually towards the cage and unlocking it. 'Remus Lupin. How long has it been since someone's called you by your name?' Sirius smiled and walked in, kneeling before the werewolf; no, Remus. He wasn't looking at Sirius anymore, closing his eyes pridefully and turning the other way. 'It's quite interesting, really. I was reading up on your papers. Looks like you've been shuffled around a lot; households, circuses, carnivals, and what do you know; you were even part of the war, weren't you?' Sirius smirked when he noticed a sudden tenseness in Remus's shoulder. 'Did Voldemort call you by name, as well?'
Sirius well expected the silent response. He savoured the way the creature…no, Remus, held his head slightly high and pursed his lips in annoyance. 'You understand me, don't you?' Sirius ran a slow hand down Remus's back, his fingers playing over every bump in his spinal cord. 'You can fool a lot of people by staying mute and acting like an animal, but your eyes give it away. Those lovely amber eyes.' Sirius leaned forward and kissed underneath Remus's right eye.
He laughed when Remus snarled and pulled away. Sirius knew perfectly well that Remus would have attacked again if he could, but the way he held his palms straight and his hand rigid were indications that the burns were causing him much more pain than he was revealing.
'Kreacher told me you ate all your lunch. I'm pleased.' Sirius brushes the back of his fingers against Remus's cheek, moving away just in time to avoid Remus biting off his fingers. They were human teeth: blunt and straight and not particularly clean, but the canines were sharp, as if adaptive to Remus's werewolf alter ego. 'Here I was thinking you were going to behave yourself and I would have to avoid causing you too much pain. Such a pity.'
Remus's eyes widened, but before he could even move, Sirius had already whispered a silent spell, causing the werewolf to slump into Sirius's arms. 'Brilliant, isn't it?' he grins, healing the burns on Remus's hands. 'It isn't an actual body bind, but functions just like one. You see, right now, every single connection between your body and brain has been disabled. You are paralysed to nothing short of a rag doll.' Sirius gathered Remus's limbs, hooking an arm underneath his knees and pulling him up. 'I created this spell myself when I was twelve, through a mixture of Dark Arts. My mother was very proud.' Sirius takes a turn to the left, where he had instructed for creature to prepare the bath and required clothing. 'It's stronger than any restrictive spell, but I would have probably had a hard time with it had you been in your other form.'
Sirius pulled out his wand and in a swift motion, stripped Remus of what little clothing he had. They weren't anything respectable to begin with, failing even to cover the bare necessities. Sirius couldn't even fathom how old they were or what colour or form they'd been originally. Possibly, they could have just been potato sacks cut apart to fill a person.
The bath, as instructed, had been prepared, steam rising from the hot water that rippled oddly. Gently, Sirius lowered Remus into the tub, feeling the heat scalding his skin where his fingers just brushed the water surface. The water had been made too hot; Sirius could tell this from the way Remus's skin turned red, seconds after he'd been dipped inside.
Shrugging, Sirius summons his razor from the cabinet. 'There is an important rule that you must remember while you live in this house, Remus. Here, you are devoid of a category.' Sirius pulled back Remus's coarse brown hair and started the razor from the very roots of his scalp. 'You are a werewolf, but you are not a beast. You are not human either.' Chunks of dirty, untamable hair fell out as the razor move systematically to the back of Remus's head. 'Your identity is your name and the fact that you belong to me alone. Know this, you are mine.' Sirius brushed his hands and put the razor back on the sink. He ran a hand across Remus's newly shaved head, before stripping down and joining the werewolf in the tab. The water burned in the sensitive places between his toes and neck. 'Your entire existence revolves around me, is confined by me.'
Sirius summoned the soap, dipping it into the water to create sufficient foam. 'I'll be frank with you; I don't like cages. They clash horribly with the décor and they belong in dungeons, not houses such as this.' Idly, he let his lathered hands wander, brushing across the sinewy muscles of Remus's arms and climbing up to his chest. Purposefully, he lingered at the nipples, dipping his fingers into the hollow of his collar bone and resisting the urge to bite down and leave a mark. 'I wish to let you out. Except for the full moons, I want to give you free reign to walk this house. This will be your privilege, given that you earn it.' Sirius's hands moved lower to the sides of Remus's thighs, carving down to the sensitive curve on the inside.
'Oh,' Sirius stopped, surprised as Remus's shoulders twitched restrictively. 'You're trying to break through, are you?' Sirius chuckles, hands tightening around Remus's thighs as he whispers into the werewolf's ear, 'Don't worry. I won't do anything to you yet.' Sirius broke out into manic peals of laughter, head thrown back and soaking partway in the water. It's a thrill beyond comprehension for him; an excitement that he hadn't felt since the war. Even thinking about what was to come had his skin crawling with goose bumps. 'For now, you should dress well and rest.'
Remus is shaking. He's shaking so hard that his body is rocking uncontrollably and he can't stop no matter how hard he tries. He stares at his hands for the longest time; stares at how his fingers flex as he concentrates his strength into them. Greyback tells him that this is what makes werewolves superior to humans. Humans need wands and flimsy spells to win a war and amplify their magic. Werewolves are born with an immense magical force, but the true art lies in how this magic can be concentrated to create brute strength. There are more things that Greyback says, but Remus can't understand them all and sometimes he is cowering too hard with fear to listen.
All he knows is that he can shut it off if he wants to. He can make this strength disappear to the deepest recesses of his body and pretend he doesn't have to do this. But what is far scarier than anything else is the thought of Voldemort. Greyback says that Voldemort is always watching; that he knows and reads the minds and souls of every individual in the world. Those who disobey him will die, Greyback assures, and Remus is scared of dying more than anything else. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't ever want to die. He wants to go back home to his parents and go to the school that his dad talks about. He is supposed to get a letter next year.
'Please…please don't…'
Remus stares at the woman. She isn't very strong because every hex she sends his way weakly bounce of him. It might be because she is just as afraid as he is or it might be because her wand is nearly split in the middle. She's backing away, her arms and legs scrabbling against the dirt to get away from Remus as he moves closer to her.
He doesn't want to do this.
Remus flexes his fingers again, drawing them up at the knuckles.
But he doesn't want to die.
Remus closes his eyes tightly and strikes.
Remus's hand swiped the air wildly, before he realised there was nothing there but dark emptiness. His eyes, already adjusted to the dark, swiveled around in panic while his mind tried to grasp the situation. He was no longer trapped in a dream, but yet the feeling of unfamiliarity lingered. The ground underneath him too soft and there was sweet smell of soap wafting from his surrounding, rather than the usual aroma of mould and ominous silver.
Remus was not in his cage.
He was a in a room, on an elevated arch of sorts. Bed, a distant part of his mind supplied.
Bed, Remus repeated in his head, trying to recall and understand its meaning. It was too high.
Carefully, Remus inched towards the edge of the bed and looked down. The floor has a dark brown covering, just like the bed, but when Remus tentatively reached out to touch it, it felt coarser and thicker. Keeping both hands on the floor, Remus slowly crawled out of the bed, throwing away the sheets that covered his body and tangled across his legs. The ground wasn't as cold as he expected it to be, nor as hard, but it felt better to be closer to it. He didn't want to get back up there: up on the bed.
Where was he? If not in the cage, then where was he?
Remus looked around, taking in the walls, covered with intricate designs and etchings – black over a rich cream. They looked like the tattoos Remus remembered seeing on a woman, back at the carnival. Remus wondered if he was still in that man's house; the one's whose eyes looked like the ashes of dead remains and expressions resembled a manic desperation. This place seemed different: warmer, lighter, and slightly familiar. It did not exude the indifference and cruelty that seemed to have settled in the place Remus had been kept before. There were even pictures on the wall, though Remus couldn't clearly see them all in dark. They were mostly a blur of human shapes and white teeth of laughter.
There was a door, Remus realised suddenly, crawling forward. A door, which meant freedom.
Remus reached for the handle and pulled, but the door did not budge. It was locked, he realised; just like his cage. This place was like a cage without bars. Still, the lock felt flimsy underneath his hands. It felt breakable, so Remus concentrated on his strength and pulled hard. The door opened a sliver, bending on its hinges, before Remus abruptly let go – falling backwards in fear.
Dark. It was dark. Darker than he'd ever seen; like black flames licking the edges of the door frame.
Remus didn't want to go out anymore. He didn't want to go beyond the unfamiliar darkness that threatened to devour him. He moved back, sparing a glance at the bed. He didn't want to go to the bed either, in its high arches and softness that seemed to draw his whole body inwards into a chasm. He wanted…he wanted his cage. He wanted the cold hardness of the floor and the dangerous glint of the silver bars that kept the darkness away.
Remus crawled underneath the space in the bed and looked towards the door. It was partly broken now, revealing a small dark crack within the lighter darkness of the room. Remus didn't want to look. He didn't want to know the demons that came from in there, so he buried his face into the coarse floor and shut his eyes tightly. A soft whimper escaped him, and he bit his lips hard to muffle himself.
He wanted his cage.
Remus could hear sounds coming through the crack – creaks and dull thuds of footsteps moving around. A stale presence hovering near his shoulders and bright red eyes watching his from the darker shadows. It was too open, too vast; enough for shadows to hide and wander out of sight. If he looked, Remus knew that the hands would reach out for him. If he moved, they would grab him and burn him in a place worse than the scarring pain of silver.
Remus curled further into the ground, his hands clawing at the rough material underneath him. His blunt nails pulled painfully, as they scratched across the surface.
He wanted his cage.
Another chapter completed. ^_^ I never realised how difficult it was to write darker stories. Which reminds me, I felt I had to clear up a few things. A lot of people thought darker meant angstier story with a sad ending. I know I do a lot of styles, but I can't do sad endings. It's like asking me to pull rabbits out of my nose. When I said darker, I just meant, very, very odd and twisted behaviour, which is kind of disapproving. Like, you hate the characters, but then you like them and that sort of limbo (I hope none of you think I'm a lunatic after reading this chapter). Ahem, but yes, HAPPY ENDING. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed the story and want to read more. And I also hope I've replied to everyone's reviews, because you guys are so absolutely lovely. Cheers!
A very big thank you and lot of love to my anonymous reviewers who I couldn't reply to personally: Pherenike, Friends are like stars :), Me!,GIjain,MR, whenyouareengulfedinflames, and purpleflurp!
