Any Other Astrakhan

A/N: Astrakhan is a dark fleece from the lambs of Astrakhan, southern Russian.

This country is also Kraemer's home.

Eventually, the two vampires had managed to get Remus to agree with their silently shared idea. They had been arguing about what in the hell they were going to do. After all, Coraline was unconscious and they weren't sure if she would react to a werewolf's flesh close to her mouth. They did, of course, smell different than the average human. Kraemer pushed against the door. He had been so long acquainted with others letting him through a door that he fiddled with the doorknob for a few seconds. Xavier could do nothing more than laugh silently.

"You remember when they locked me in that damned cell, don't laugh at me!" Xavier released a un-Xavier like bark of a laugh that made Remus jump. While the two vampires had been bickering, Remus pushed past the two and into the room. He leaned on the bed and it took more than a few minutes for Xavier's keen ears to hear the werewolf talking to his vampire.

Remus sat on the side of the bed, Coraline sleeping sound and unmoving while he stroked her face. His breath was musky against the cream of her face. Her breath was drawn, her chest taut and Remus laid his head on her shoulder and breathed in her scent. It almost wasn't there. He could smell blood and it seemed to be the only thing that was her. The only thing that was a vampire mostly. He sighed greatly. He was glad to be one of the sane werewolves. There at least were a few now that he thought about it…

"Xavier's gonna help you. You'll be okay soon enough. I can't… I'm too much of a coward to explain to anyone what's happened… Would—if you had the chance, I wonder what you would say if I asked you what happened." Softly, he stroked the bloodstained fingers, her crafted fingernails and flowing hair. Her face was serene against the darkness of the room. He faintly heard the two vampires arguing endlessly at the door. "What would you say, love?"

That was when Xavier looked up and wandered quietly into the room. "You know being bitten by a vampire is nothing like any other thing you've felt befo—"

"I know," Remus said quickly.

The vampire nodded, "If you would rather, Kraemer could do it. He's very gentle—you won't even realize it, just fall and wake up when he pulls back. You won't relive the memory, either…" It was a few moments before he began to ask the question, "Why won't you talk about it, Remus?"

The werewolf took a deep breath. "Let's just get this over with."

—xcix—

Ravenous.

He couldn't think for a better word.

It had been so long since his eyes had reached that icy blue color. He hadn't seen himself, his true, vampyric self in so long. The first five years of his welcoming into the vampire society of B. C. 13 had been long ago but so very short. His skin had been flawless and over time the scars began to show. From the first fire, all the bites, every one of them showed up.

He couldn't think anymore, the memory showed up as bright as the scars did when he had deprived himself of the blood. Monster, you're a monster, his mind couldn't stop saying that to him, over, over and over it came. The mirror was blank with his iced expression.

Beneath the beautiful exterior he kept his thoughts to himself… he never told anyone about his lost thoughts. Not even Xavier, Xavier couldn't get into his mind. "Look at what you are," he muttered to the dim light. He had managed to find a soft bulb to replace the others. It was dark; the burned amber light fell on his face softly, cutting into the harsh angular slim edges, "Look at what you've become."

"You're a damn parasite… A monster." He continued to mutter into the shards of silence minutes later, to himself and the grout of the tile where his words puddle—stuck thickly and gross. The blood had cut him down, his face didn't seem so square, his frame had become lanky and his shoulders fell into relaxation. He didn't feel the need to guard himself. He in fact didn't feel anything like the human Kraemer Korsakov anymore.

A chill blew over the house, over him and fell in the bathroom. His hand rested in the porcelain of the sink where the ice melted down at the warmth pounding in the center of his palm. The blood… it had driven him crazy. The smell of werewolf flesh on his lips, against his tongue, it had been too much to bear. The remnants of the memory clung to the stitches in his thick, fleece-lined jacket, heavy around his thinned shoulders. It had been a gift from the minister when he had actually grown out of using the cane. Apparently the big black monster needed to have cameras or surveyors around the compounds to watch each and everything that belonged to him, his slaves.

"You're a monster, what other purpose must you have or serve?"

He wondered aloud. He had to keep his real thoughts alive and squirming in his grasp, worming through his ears and scratching his rebuilt throat. The blood had redone everything about him. He couldn't believe how much he had changed appearance-wise ever since he had become a part of Compound 13, a part held under lock and key. He had disappeared from the vampire and human community alike, no one talked to him, the only vampires that knew he was still alive were the vampires he shared thoughts with.

He grasped the ebony wood in his hand tightly. He felt the blood rush to his other. It flowed gracefully into the sink. The blood of a vampire, he thought blankly, so thick and pointless. His body had already used up Remus' blood—that was what flowed out of his hand now.

The knife was sharp and bloodstained on the black rug beneath his feet. The white tiles around him were spattered with the gruesome smell. He was a parasitic monster. He wasn't sure how much further he could go into being that truthful about a vampire. Sure, he couldn't kill anyone… at least not independently. It took several vampires to actually drain the lifeblood out of a normal human.

But a werewolf was basically an ocean of sweet blood. He was surprised Xavier had done nothing standing over him an hour ago.

Yes, an hour ago, he tried not to mutter it.

His eyes remained icy and bright against the dark shroud of the mirror. He couldn't believe how harsh he was as a healthy vampire… He called it "healthy"; by the bitchy minister's standards this was healthy. His healthy was the darkest his eyes could get, the closest to what he looked like as a human, which he hardly remembered. He had never really had enough blood to reach the beauty of a vampire, the veil of a monster. That's what he called it. Vampires who fed off of humans regularly were the truest form of their own beauty. He had always remained unhealthy. When he didn't have enough blood, his eyes grew shades darker until it reached the darkest blue he had ever seen in his human life.

From healing Coraline's wounds the night before, his eyes had grown a little lighter.

And finally they were at their lightest, a frosted sky blue that really never ended. His hair had grown back to its youthful honey blonde instead of offset white. And now everything was changing back to normal.

The blood flowing down the drain of the porcelain sink was black against the pallid ice. If he had at first ever yearned to stay a beautiful vampire he would have to behave for a long while to receive the worst form of parole and then learn to go through at least half of a human's blood daily to stay this vampyric form of beauty. Never would he live with himself. His eyes were already growing dimmer and darker… he had only had several ounces and they became bright.

It had only been an hour and his body had used it up.

And yet the memory clung tight. It wasn't going to let go. No, he had already talked to Xavier about what had happened to the werewolf earlier. That had been pointless foolhardiness on both Remus' and the human's part. He didn't mind for it now. Xavier had muttered under his breath and said silently that he would take care of it… he was gone on business already but none of that was out of the ordinary.

Nothing could bother him.

Just that damned memory.

"Goddammit, you won't leave me alone, will you? Ya liubliu tebiav, Elaine, I still do, just leave me alone…" he muttered helplessly. The tears escaped the clutches of those icy blue depths. In the dimmed light overhead, he watched them thoughtfully in the mirror. Inside him a battle raged whilst on the outside he was stock-still. The wood grated against the strength of his hand. The minister had made the damned thing unbreakable. He learned soon after it had been shoved in his hand that a metal bar ran through the middle. It had been made just for him… and still he carried it with the knowledge that the minister still couldn't defeat him.

The dim light escaped him, the darkness swallowed him, whole. His words dripped into the pattern of blood, caked dry to the sink's basin. Along with the tears, the memory finally choked him. "I still do, Elaine, I still love you…"

—c—

Okay, okay! Let's all run for a little while. I don't think I've done it enough lately— Tonks couldn't keep herself from thinking that tripping through brush and running into the worst of fallen branches wasn't the best way to spend her night. Through the crunch of the leaves beneath the trampling feet, she heard Jacob murmur quietly.

"Hop on," his voice grew to a low growl before Tonks could tell him off, that in no way possible could a sixteen-year-old could carry her… In the midst of running and trying to keep up with the two kids, she felt her stomach fling forward before her. She felt the rippling muscles beneath her hands and all the while she tried really hard not to choke the werewolf beneath her. She look left and then right and spotted Avery running a few feet away. She ducked and fought with the branches and Merlin knew what else she ran into, but all the while she kept her footing and also kept up with her brother.

Tonks wondered idly how in the hell Jacob had managed to change without the power of the moon hanging in the sky. Speaking of the moon, it had finally disappeared to be replaced by the quickly rising sun.

"Jacob," Avery whispered loudly. Her voice was pleading and commanded the werewolf's attention. His ears pricked and turned sharply in her direction as he continued running through the forest. He fell low to the ground and Tonks could only hug the strong shoulders and muscle beneath her. The fur was bristly and itching her face, but she lived with it as she heard what Avery was trying to say to Jacob, "If we don't hurry the hell up, dad's gonna murder us both. You hear that?"

She didn't wait for an answer; both of werewolves' ears were strong enough to hear anything moving half a mile away, "That would be a few of the camp's newest recruits who are going to be rewarded graciously if we don't get our asses moving. Now come on, dammit." Jacob turned sharply to the left. At some point during the swift motion, Avery had managed to haul herself onto her brother's back and leaned just as close to Tonks as possible.

Her balance was remarkable, and throughout most of the moving Avery chanced looking up at their surroundings.

Jacob stopped abruptly the sixth time she looked up. Finally Tonks stole a look herself. The trees had thinned considerably. Snow covered the ground still. It probably would until spring came. Tonks jumped off of the werewolf's back, and he fell forward resting his hands against the ground. His breathing ward hard and fast-paced and once Tonks had gained her balance she rushed over to him. Her voice was quick, and he wasn't able to answer, "Wotcher, are you okay? Say something, c'mon. Jacob, do—"

"He's fine. Just get away from him—and let him breathe…" Avery said, shrugging on the sentence into the cold chill of the air. It took her a few moments to decide to jerk Tonks roughly away from her brother. Tonks noticed that it was normal for Avery to touch someone, human or otherwise. She was uneasy when it came to falling on her knees next to her brother. Jacob looked up, laughing breathlessly. "You idiot! You scared the hell outta me and you're okay?!"

"Hey, hey, watch it. I am tired… Come on… we need to keep moving. Let's get into the house." He paused to catch his breath, "Help me u—" Avery yanked him from the ground, her werewolf strength apparent as Jacob wrapped his arm around her shoulders, almost protectively. "Thanks. Don't leave any footprints in the snow," he tossed the words over his shoulders and they seemingly landed with a thump in the snow as Tonks paused and tip-toed around to the back. She followed the two werewolves until Avery stopped and pushed Jacob to the ground.

"What—"

"Shut. Up." Avery's breathing practically disappeared and Tonks wondered where Jacob—he had been pressed in the snow and was rubbing his face and uncovered arms in it. Avery turned her face away from the light of the torches. Five werewolves stepped from the brush that surrounded the cabin. Under the influence of her instinct, Tonks flattened herself against the nearest wall. A wood pile was set between herself and Avery and Jacob. Avery placed a forefinger over her lips as she leaned down to find Tonks, "I will murder you, if you make one sound," the murderous look on her face was sure to relay that message. And Tonks didn't hesitate to be quiet.

She paused to move back, damn, her feet had already fallen asleep. Luckily before she fell back into the snow, she caught herself. She mentally released a sigh. Avery couldn't look up to tell her off, and for that, she was grateful; it wasn't until she moved closer to the corner of the house that she realized just how close the five werewolves were. Do something! Hide!

Tonks turned away, and on all fours she crawled, silently hoping that Avery and Jacob would be okay…

They laid down in the snow…

They wiped it over their skin… Scents!

They won't be able to find me if they can't catch my scent!

She leaned against the building where the snow hadn't piled up. Eventually she reached out to cover her hands and wrists in the snow. It melted instantly, of course, but somehow she was sure they wouldn't be able to follow her.

They weren't even looking for her. That was when she had the mind to turn her ass around and head back for the corner… I don't have a wand! Another part of her mind told her it would be okay, they wouldn't do anything, she was just a human. The worst would be if she got bitten… and after all that would keep everything between her and Remus settled. An upside to everything, you really are the terrible optimistic. She cursed under her breath as she looked back around the corner.

The sun hadn't risen over the treetops. Jacob and Avery were hidden in the shadows behind the woodpile. She could hardly hear Jacob's labored breathing over the other werewolves' rustling. They had gone in the other direction… or at least from what parts and pieces of their voices she heard, that's what she thought. "Av—" Avery's eyes lit up in the darkness, telling her—once again—to shut up.

A few places in the brush had been set on fire. She noticed after she rolled her eyes and looked away from the two kids. Only after she noticed a small fire set back into the woods that revealed a large hole nestled into the ground did she crawl over to the two. "What. Are you. Doing?!"

"They're burning brush…" Avery's words suffocated her own.

"I don't give a damn what they're doing, if they catch us here with you we're dead!" Tonks narrowed her eyes curiously at Avery.

It was with some hesitation that she asked, "And if I wasn't here…"

Avery rolled her eyes, "They would think we're just another couple running around like two goofballs. There are enough werewolves in the camp that don't know us. Most of them over there," she jerked her thumb pointedly in the five's direction, "Are women. They aren't going to know us. The two that are men, I haven't seen hanging around Greyback…"

"So why—"

"Can't you just shut up and hide? I have no clue!" Avery cut her off and with a huff she rolled off her brother and onto her back in the moist grass next to the house.

"No…" Tonks put a little more emphasis on the word than she meant, but whatever would get her point across would help, "Why can't we just go inside the house. If you two aren't going to get in trouble, we can go inside and I can hide in a separate room. I looks like they're just burning brush. There's a fire burning near that—" Avery leaped up silently and caught her shoulder.

"Where?" It was a breath—the word—and it lingered right next to her ear in the cramped, cold air.

She narrowed her eyes to catch the slightest flicker in the wood. She was sure Avery had spotted it before her, but she pointed in its direction any, "There." They had turned away from the wood pile and Avery leaned against the corner of the cabin. In a frustrated sigh, she stood bent over slightly and made her way back to Jacob. She shook his shoulder calmly, whispering under her breath. He looked up with a groan.

"C'mon, I'll make Tonks carry you," she muttered with a laugh. Despite her words, Jacob reluctantly plucked himself from the melted cocoon of snow that had surrounded him and he jogged past the wood pile. He stooped low against the house, his hand resting against the course wood. The wind had dug into it, making the scared surface almost unbearable. Jacob's didn't even seem phased, but when Tonks leaned up against the house she slipped. And of course caught a splinter.

"Dammit!"

Avery immediately pushed her forward, almost face-first into the snow, "If you don't shut up, I'll make Jacob carry you—"

Jacob reached back and jerked Tonks by her wrist toward the back porch. "C'mon," he muttered roughly under his breath. He stalled suddenly and Tonks crashed against him, it surprised her that his strong frame withstood the impact. He grasped her arm and dragged her through the screen door. The few moments between Jacob leaning up against the paint-chipped door—faded through time and relentless weather—and being ushered inside were a blur. The only thing she remembered was glancing at the main room, a few couches, an old unused grate and a dusty pool table littered the room. She looked up from where she stood near the door, as the two wandered in front of her. Jacob had grabbed Avery's hand quickly, noticing that the werewolves outside were practically patrolling outside. He whispered from the front room to Tonks where she still stood unmoving in the kitchen. "Come on! We need to hide. You need to hide, hurry! They're coming!"

The splintering, smashing and bright crashing of the glass of a window and the door made Avery and Jacob freeze. Tonks dove for a cabinet, and the stormed in recklessly. She held her breath the whole time.

—ci—

They're stinging my face. Would you kiss them from my lips if I let you one last time?

She laughed blankly.

The tears were so pointless, why was he letting this hurt? "E—"

"Shh, you don't have to say anything… I know—eventually we'll have everything back into place. It will all be perfect again, all we have to do is fix this, this problem and your brother. I know we can make it work, it just has to be—"

"It just has to be forgotten. I have to go, my love, I can't let you get hurt or let you get in the way of something that wasn't even your fault." He was only fifty-three. Just fifty-three and his love was seated next to him, grasping his cold hand. His eyes were already growing lifeless. He knew she was recalling the days when nothing but a spark lit his life, his eyes, even his laugh had a little crackle to it that she had loved and adored.

As children… he could only smile back at the time when they would run around and just figure out several ways to sneak out of the house to see each other. They had been seven… seven when that playground had become their favored spot. Seven when both of their lives opened up to the brightest world they could look forward to.

And seven, it had been seven when his brother had attacked him in front of the fire. The late night chill had sent him wandering about to warm up. The fire, he could only guess, welcomed his brother forth and let him know that another unsuspecting victim was just waiting for his warm, impatient mouth.

He could still feel the blood leaving his veins.

He could still hear their struggling on the floor, his fast paced breathing and grunting that almost begged to be quieted by the hand of death, standing silent nearby.

He could still smell the blood. It had welled greatly in spurts it had come. His brother had only been a vampire for a few days. He could tell by his inexperience and how much blood he had lost.

Kraemer could still see the gun Elaine had held up in her own hands, and the fear that had spun her eyes, still see in the corner of his eye, his own hand wave for her to pull that damned trigger, and send his condemned brother to the afterlife.

The worst thing of that whole night had been the fact that he had to fetch the icy blade from the building just on the outskirts of the grounds, standing overwhelming in front of the iron fence. The blood from the neck wound… he wielded the axe above his head, giving into the pull that led to his brother's demise, and eventually he had stopped himself from gazing intently at the black blood that spilled continuously from the opened body.

"Kraemer…" Elaine said. It had almost been inaudible, a frightened squeak of a mouse. But his hearing… dammit, damn him, that foolish bastard, he cursed his brother silently. His hearing and vision had been perfected. An hour ago he had settled his bifocals on the nearest table in front of one of the vases, filled with Elaine's favorite roses. He had given up totally on losing his humanity. He had already lost it, lost what had been him completely. He didn't understand, but he felt his grip gain strength. His vision had cleared and if anything he could see everything, even the farthest horizon. His hearing… His damned brother…

Not once, though, had he felt any security since he had lifted himself from the Persian rug that had decorated the floor. "Yes, my dear," he wondered aloud simply.

"I love you." He smiled softly, leaned over and kissed her on the lips, softly. He never wanted the moment to end. But it did, he was pulling away and it seemed as if he would never be able to rewind his life to give into the want to kiss her again. He stumbled away from the bed silently.

It was standing in the doorway, with his head bowed helplessly and his hand resting upon the frame of the door to steady himself, "Ya liubliu tebiav. I always will, I just need to be let alone."

With the heaviest of hearts he stepped out of the door, out of the mansion and out of Elaine's life for good.

—cii—

The roar made him jump. The mirror he stood in front of had been smashed. The shards missed him by inches, but not by luck. Xavier had slammed the door across the hall and Kraemer suddenly found himself wondering what in the hell to do… His dark sapphire eyes opened wide. They weren't the darkest that they had ever been but by the time he got out of the house he felt his eyes burning in pain. He stumbled into the hall blind and realized that fire was all around him. Dammit, don't let the house burn down… don't burn the house down, you monster. You only want me…

His hand flailed in front of him and he tried and failed to make his way down the hall. He was tripped up either by the carpet or… "Kraemer! Run!" Xavier's loud words flew over his ears with the smoke. Fuck, he was choking no… No, dammit… Hands grasped his shoulders and his large frame was hauled up. No, they were here to take him away.

"Xavier!" The sounds of vampyric shrieks echoed through his head. Remus' shouts were exhaled with a last sigh from the vampire. They were taken, the compound had actually captured them. Xavier had been caught. And now everything was going up in flames.

Flames…

—ciii—

By the time Remus had apparated… he hadn't gotten the fucking chance to grab Xavier and he hadn't found Kraemer coughing through the blistering smoke. He wasn't sure why there had been people storming Nymphadora's apartment. They didn't sound like werewolves… they had been too quiet. And they certainly didn't smell werewolves. He appeared silently in the clearing in front of the fountain entrance to the underground camps. Maybe Lia was still—

He hadn't had the time to search for Lia because it had been an hour later of being dragged down into a tunnel that he appeared in the morning sun surrounded by overgrown brush. Four werewolves—they were mostly women he didn't know—took him along on a brush-fire assignment from the head man leading the group. He had just been caught in the midst of everything. All he wanted, dammit, was a warm place to go to sleep.

It had been a long time since he last found himself pushed into the small uncomfortable crevice directly below the entrance, but thinking about it now seemed to make him even more tired. He didn't give a shit where he could lie down, just somewhere… anywhere. He was about to mention going back after the entrance had been cleared, but they beat him to speaking and the four led him toward a cabin. "Dammit," he cursed under his breath.

From the direction they came from the back part of the building itself was facing away; but even because of this, it didn't stop Remus from considering the high chance that no one inhabited it.

Soon enough Remus had followed them blindly around to the front. The sound of the splintering or the door beneath the strongest werewolf's boot made Remus unconsciously step away. The smashing sound of glass made him look up suddenly to find out what the hell the others were doing.

Silently, he avoided playing follow-the-leader and made his way through the snow that still lingered in front of the building in the winter-sun around to the back. A porch surrounded by pitiful screen and a swinging door met him, as he stepped around the corner he noticed recent hand prints in the snow, narrowing his eyes as he stepped through the back door and into a dust-filled kitchen.

The sounds of moving in another room met him but his keen ears could hear the breathing. He could taste the sweat on the tip of his tongue—could see the terrified face in his mind. It was a human, another human hiding… the source of the careless handprints in the snow outside.

The shuffle of metallic pans made him smile softly. He knew the smell underlying the sweat any day. She was so—

"What are you doing here?" The booming voice of the lead werewolf met his ears before the sound travelled to the kitchen. Apparently someone else was here, too.

The squeak of someone's voice masked the sound of his hand on the cabinet's handle. The continuous pitter-patter of muttering and pounding footsteps throughout the house shielded his welling adrenaline from pouring into droplets of sweat on his forehead.

He yanked back the door and it didn't make a sound. His hand covered Tonks' mouth immediately, his smile met her widened eyes, and his lips on hers silenced any of their fast-paced breathing.

Somehow, he managed to squeeze into the tight space—if he could hide long and quietly enough, they would think he had gone back to the camp. But his hands on her face, touching her skin made him dismiss any thoughts of the other werewolves. His strong ears picked up the sounds of two teenagers' voices and the complaints of how the four werewolves had "ruined their fun" resonated to a smile on his face.

"Jacob and Avery," Tonks said with a soft laugh—apparently she could hear bits of the conversation, too. "They're half-brother and sister…" Before she could explain breathily, Remus stopped her with a heavy kiss.

"And that's what they're pretending to do," she said simply.

He smiled and tried to hide his laughter. "Oh, I'm not pretending, Nymphadora—"

"Don't call me that…"

"You said you loved someone else," Remus muttered, changing subject through the darkness.

"I know," Tonks said softly. "I wanted to show you how it feels."

Remus pulled back softly. "Tonks."

"Yeah," she asked, laughing lightly. She knew what was coming up, his reprimand and then the werewolves finding them because he was going to make her laugh…

In the darkness the werewolf rolled his eyes, "Don't do that again, Nymphadora."

"Remus," she said, using the same tone.

"Hmm," he laughed against her lips, his voice breathy.

"Shut up."

"I don't have to."

"Yes. You. Do." Her lips were on his again, fervent and strong, but he leaned back and muttered.

"Make. Me."

It was their smiles against each others' lips that they sank, finally, into a peaceful kiss… And this time nothing was there to interrupt them and there was more electricity in it than Tonks could have ever imagined.

TBC

Moony73