"Back so soon, are you?" Wynonna questioned as she saw him reappear through their domed protective enchantments. "And here I was just beginning to enjoy my solitude," she added with a heavy hint of sarcasm.
"Sorry to disappoint you," he replied, shaking his head. Everything was a joke to her he'd come to realize quickly enough, and though he could see how the trait would be annoying to some, he found it oddly endearing. He would never admit that to her, of course.
"What you got there?" And she pointed to the small bag he carried with him.
"Just dinner. I grabbed a few fish from a creek not too far from here." Pausing, suddenly struck with a terrifying thought, he turned to her with a concerned, wide-eyed expression. "Shit, do you eat fish?"
Wynonna snorted in laughter, shaking her head in return. It was sort of adorable that he seemed to worried about her, about what she liked or didn't like. "Yeah, Lu, I eat fish. Besides, beggars can't be choosers, can we?"
With a sigh of relief, he nodded, "I suppose not. I figure I can try to make something edible out of it with a bit of magic and...do you cook?"
"Merlin's beard, no," she answered, looking terrified at the prospect. She'd be a menace in the kitchen, if she ever stepped in foot of one for something other than a drink. "Not unless you want the whole damn forest burnt down."
"Right, well, I'll see what I can do then." He'd had a similar worry in the morning, that she would be picky or judge his cooking skills, but this time his worry lessened as he remembered it'd hadn't bothered her then.
Later, a while after the sun had fallen beneath the tops of the tall pine trees surrounding them, when they were both well and hungry, Remus had made quick work of dinner. It was nothing to write home about, but it was tasty enough. And it was filling, and that's what really mattered. Afterward, the two sat around the fire, resting, their bellies full.
"Can I ask you something?" Wynonna had asked, breaking the comfortable silence, her voice brimming with curiosity yet hesitant as well.
"I feel like I'm going to regret this," he answered, keeping his tone light, though her hesitance had him worried. "Go ahead."
"How long-how long have you-"
"Been a werewolf?" He finished for her, looking her in the eyes, letting out a soft sigh.
"Yeah. I mean, you don't-you don't have to, you know...if you don't want to," she added, trying to keep her voice light and conversational, though Remus could tell she was dying to know. He also suspected she had an idea of just how long it had been. "It's just-well, I've never met a werewolf."
Remus raised a brow in response to her words, a blatant show of his skepticism. He happened to know for a fact that she had met a werewolf before, several in fact. Not even just on the night she'd tried to hunt them down; he knew her family had hunted other werewolves over the years. His father had also told him many years ago now about an attack on her family at their home. He didn't know much about the night, only that her father had died and her oldest sister had been taken by the pack, and he never intended to tell her he knew about that.
"Fine," she conceded, reading his mind. "I haven't met a werewolf I didn't want to kill," she said with a shudder as the words left her lips. She really had wanted to kill so many, had in fact killed a few-what must he think of her? Here he was, a kind, decent man who had saved her from a pack of raging werewolves she'd been hunting, and up until that night, she'd made it her life's mission to kill not only The Seven but all werewolves, even ones like Remus if she happened upon them. He must think she was a monster.
"Don't be too hard on yourself. You're not the only one who would happily see creatures like me dead," he said, reading the thoughts written all too plainly across her features, noticeable in the way she avoided his eyes. "You'd be surprised to looks and whispers I get e en from the Order. They all trust Dumbledore and therefore don't question him, but…" he paused, shrugging, "people always find it easier to stand on the moral high ground when they're not actually being challenged. They might preach tolerance and acceptance, but even for the 'good' ones, it's easier said than done."
For a long, tense moment, Wynonna said nothing, staring through the fire at him, mulling his words over in her head, wondering how much of it was true. She didn't doubt him, merely wondered just how many people in the Order didn't trust Remus because of what he was. Bloody hypocrites, she thought, sighing heavily and reaching into her bag, pulling out the bottle of whiskey again.
"Want some?" If they were going to continue this conversation, he was going to need some. And if he didn't want any, she'd drink his share for him.
"Why not," he shrugged. One drink wouldn't hurt and the taste appealed to him especially strong in the moment.
"That a boy, Lu," she purred, grinning and conjuring two glasses for the, pouring a touch in his while nearly filling her own.
Remus thanked her, grinning in amusement at the noticeable difference between their pours though he didn't object. A small amount was more than enough for him.
After another long moment of silence as the pair sipped their drinks, allowing the warmth to flow through and settle inside them, Wynonna broke it tentatively once more. "So…" she prodded, her curiosity nagging at her.
"I think you already know the answer."
"It's been a long time, hasn't it?"
Remus nodded without meeting her eyes, instead staring intently into his glass of whiskey. "I was bitten when I was five." As hard as it may have been for her to believe, no one else really knew that. James, Peter, and Sirius were among the few who did. Them and a few others who had needed to know. His condition was the one thing that Remus was most closed up about. Usually a very honest man, opting never to lie when asked direct questions, that didn't always extend to his condition. Too much was at risk to answer truthfully all the time. Not everyone reacted well to the news.
"Bloody hell," Wynonna answered, her suspicions from seeing his family photos confirmed. "Bloody hell," she repeated, having no clue what else she was meant to say to that, and her extending her condolences just seemed phony. "I uh, I saw your pictures in your flat…."
Remus nodded and said nothing. He already knew that, of course, he had caught her looking around the shelves in his living room and suspected she'd done the same to those in his bedroom. It didn't bother him either; curiosity wasn't a crime. She was more tactful about it than he'd expected, and indeed more tactful than others had been in the past.
"So the whole time at school…"
Again Remus nodded, taking another small sip of his drink. "Yep, werewolf."
"Bloody feckin' hell," she said again, throwing back her glass, emptying its remaining contents down her throat.
Remus actually let out a soft chuckle watching her shake her head as she took it all in. Even if she'd suspected it, clearly hearing it out loud, knowing it was true, that he really had been like this almost all of his life, had shaken her. A lot of people responded that way, surprised, which was one of the reasons he rarely told anyone. At least Wynonna hadn't flashed him any of those pitying looks he'd grown familiar with.
"I think you need another drink," she said, this time filling his glass all the way to the top as she did with her own.
"Now who's trying to get who drunk?"
"Please," she scoffed, "If I wanted you to get drunk, you'd know it. And you'd already be drunk by now."
"I believe it," he said, shaking his head with a laugh.
"Do you even get drunk, Lu?"
"Not really, no. Losing control of myself once a month is more than enough for me." Letting out a breath of air, he shook his head again. "You think hangovers are bad, just wait."
Wynonna groaned. "Please, don't remind me. We can cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I'm trying to forget that nasty business." She shook her head emphatically, taking a large swig of her drink. "I don't even want to think about how awful it's going to be."
"It won't be as bad with me?"
"Yeah? And why's that?"
Remus shrugged, "Don't know. When-" he cut off then, catching himself.
"What?"
"No, nothing."
"Come on? Don't hold out on me now."
Remus clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Sorry, not my secret to tell. But let's just say that I've been transformed around other animals and it's...different. It's easier. Sometimes I almost even felt like myself, or at least could still recognize a part of myself in there somewhere."
"And the times you weren't with other animals?"
"Like you said, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
Wynonna groaned again and kicked playfully at his shins. "You dickhead. You're enjoying this aren't you?"
"I'm really not. Besides, telling you now won't make it any better when it actually happens. Nothing I could ever say would ever prepare you."
"Thanks for that, Lu."
Remus just shrugged apologetically. Unfortunately, that was the truth of the matter. He could sit here and tell her in detail all that happened during a transformation, explain the pain she would endure, but none of it would measure up to reality. All he'd succeed in doing would be to make her even more anxious for what awaited her. When the time came, he'd tell her all she needed to know. The rest she'd have to experience on her own.
"Wait, you really do sleep like that all the time?" Wynonna asked later that night as the pair retreated into the tent for the night.
Emerging back into the small space that housed the bed they'd have to share-magically enlarged or not, there still wasn't space for two beds-he looked down at his clothing, covered as usual from neck to ankle, and shrugged. "You didn't really think I slept in the nude, did you?"
"A girl could hope," she replied, staring at him with wide eyes. "It's not that cold out, Lu."
"It's not really about the cold."
It only took a moment of confusion before understanding began to settle in. It had only been a quick glance, but she had seen similar scars to her own lining his back. From his pictures in his flat, she already knew they lined his arms, too, and she'd hazard a guess the rest of his body must be marred with them as well. Had he slept like that all through school too? Covering up his scars, hiding them from his peers to keep his secret safe?
She let out a small, indescribable breath of laughter. "So it's all right for you to see mine but I can't see yours?"
Wynonna hadn't meant for her words to have as sharp of teeth as they did, but she found herself annoyed that when she'd all but begged him to let her be, to allow her that small, minuscule bit of dignity, he'd refused. It didn't matter that it had been for her own good, to help her even. He'd seen her at her most vulnerable and now he was being shy? About scars that were just like the ones he knew she had.
Standing on the other side of the bed from her, he stared, dumbfounded, unable to read whether she was serious or not. Her eyes bore into them with a ferocity he hadn't seen since they were kids, and the way her lips were pulled tightly suggested she was serious.
"Why do-are you being serious right now?"
She shrugged, trying to shake off her irritation, knowing it was irrational. "I-no."
A painfully awkward silence settled as the two stood, still staring at one another before Remus coughed, clearing his throat. "Er-well, goodnight," he stated quietly, climbing beneath the blankets of their makeshift bed and waving his wand at the lanterns, snuffing out their light.
Wordlessly, Wynonna slipped off her jeans, them falling to the ground with a dull thud, and clang of her belt. Next he heard her the sound of her jacket being pulled off, that telltale sound of leather on leather before he felt her weight sink into the bed beside him.
"Night," Wynonna whispered quietly, lying on her side, her back turned to him.
Remus said nothing and Wynonna figured he'd already slipped off into sleep, but he lied awake still, mulling over that strange interaction. He supposed it was unfair that she had been forced into so many uncomfortable situations with him while he was allowed to keep his privacy, his secrecy, his comfort. Only with Sirius's teasing had Remus felt uncomfortable and that hardly compared to what Wynonna had gone through. And he suspected it wasn't really about seeing his scars but seeing him vulnerable.
Fair or not, he hoped he'd never have to show the same things she had. Though he knew, sooner rather than later, he would have to. When the full moon came, there would be no more hiding, no more putting on a brace face. There was never a more vulnerable time for him than the time before and after a transformation. That would be the first time he had to bare himself to her and there was nothing he could do about it. It was a painful inevitability. And it was with those thoughts that Remus eventually drifted off into a fitful sleep.
The following morning, Wynonna awoke, feeling surprisingly rested, and she inhaled deeply as a pleasing, piney smell assaulted her senses. A soft hum escaped her as she turned her head, seeking more of that scent when recognition finally hit her, snapping her back to reality. Her lids flew open and she found herself mere inches from Remus's jaw, her head resting in the crook of his neck, one arm draped lazily over his torso. Biting her lip, she tried to move as quickly and gently as she could away from him, hoping he was still sound asleep.
She didn't really fancy the idea of him waking up to her half on top of him. She'd embarrassed herself around him more than enough in the past twenty-four hours. The last thing she needed was him teasing her about bloody cuddling him in her sleep. But Merlin's tits, he was so warm.
Even now, as she untangled herself from him, she was half tempted to settle back in beside him and damn it to tell any snarky, teasing remarks she'd get for it. Between that smell and his warmth, Wynonna had never known anything else to be so inviting. Not even the bottom of a bottle of whiskey felt as comforting as he did.
Next to her, despite her best efforts, Remus began to stir awake. The absence of her body heat and that sweet smell of coconut that came with her, woke him. Breathing deeply, he found it curious that after all these years, she still smelled the same. Even more curious, it still drew him in as it had done when they were in school. Where Remus had managed to forget his adolescent crush over the years, his nose certainly hadn't. And he couldn't help but remember the last time he'd been able to smell it like this, up close and personal.
Though with a jolt or warmth, he jumped awake, sitting up abruptly beside her as he quickly tried to shove the thought of kissing her from his mind before it had time to settle. He feared, in his half-asleep state, that if he ruminated on memories like that for too long, he'd hav a serious problem on his hands, one he couldn't hide either. Not in such close quarters.
"What? What's wrong?" Wynonna half shouted beside him, pulling the blankets up to her chest and looking around in alarm.
"Huh?" He replied, eyes awake and alert, turning to her and almost laughing at her expression. He hadn't meant to startle her. "Oh, nothing. It's nothing. Sorry."
"Shite, Lu, what good was saving me if you were just gonna give me a damn heart attack, huh?"
Remus merely laughed, shaking his head as he settled back down, memories of their one shared kiss tucked back safely in the corners of his mind where they wouldn't cause him trouble. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"Yeah, well…" she replied, noticeably irritated, shaking her head at him. "What was that about anyway?"
"Er-dream, I guess."
Wynonna let out a quiet, frustrated growl but said nothing, settling back comfortably on the bed, sitting and eyeing him warily as though he may startle her again any minute.
"Sorry if I woke you," he said after a moment as he slipped out of bed and stood.
"No, no, you didn't," she replied, letting out a quiet sigh of relief that he apparently hadn't noticed she'd fallen asleep on top of him. "I was already awake."
"Oh, good." He pursed his lips, standing there, feeling slightly awkward as another silence settled in between them.
"Er-" Both Wynonna and Remus began simultaneously.
"Oh, no, you go," Remus offered.
"Er-about last night."
Remus raised a questioning brow at her. "What about last night?"
"About your scars…"
"Oh," Remus laughed, shaking his head and waving off her concerns. "Don't worry about it. It's fine."
"I didn't mean anything."
"I know. Really, don't worry about it. I know none of this is easy, but trust me, seeing my pale-ass, scar-riddled body isn't going to make it any better."
"Don't know until we try though, right?" She teased.
"No, really, I know. Trust me." he replied, shaking his head.
"All right, for now," she said, flashing him a wink. Now in the light of day, she felt foolish and childish having gotten upset the night before.
She knew it was silly and that it wasn't his fault she'd found herself in the position she had. He'd only been trying to help. Wynonna just wasn't used to allowing people to do that. She'd always had to look after herself for as long as she could remember. Transitioning into trusting someone else with her well-being, letting herself be seen by someone else, was not easy.
She waited until he left the tent, preparing some breakfast for the two of them before she slipped out of bed and got dressed, joining him outside a few minutes later. He was still wearing his pajamas, and Wynonna noticed with a chuckle, some festive looking slippers.
"A bit early for Christmas slippers isn't it?"
Remus laughed, looking down at his feet. "They were the only ones I could find."
Wynonna snorted as she took a seat by the fire Remus had lit, curling her arms around her to stave off the morning chill.
"Okay, I may have been a bit premature, poking fun at you about your sweaters," she said with a shiver. She had her jacket and jeans on again, but that cold English air seeped right through them both, chilling her to her bone.
"If you're cold, I've got more inside. You're welcome to borrow one."
"Nah, I'm all right, Lu, it's these damn woods. There's no sun."
"Not until around midday, no," he said, passing her a plate of eggs and more of the fish he'd cooked the night before.
After breakfast, Remus again set out on his own doing whatever it was Dumbledore and the Order needed doing. Wynonna never knew and didn't bother asking. Each day of the next two weeks passed in the same manner. They'd wake up and Remus would set off, being gone from the camp for most of the afternoon before returning in time for dinner.
At some point Wynonna convinced herself she was keeping watch of the place, but she knew it was bullshit. She knew the reality was that she was just an extra body Remus hadn't counted on being there and didn't know what to do with. On a couple of occasions, she'd considered tagging along with him but always inevitably changed her mind when it came time to suggest it. She didn't like the solitude; it left too much time for her to think and that was never good.
Evenings were better, once Remus returned. The pair spent most of the night sitting around the fire and chatting, sometimes Remus filling her in on what he got up to during the day. With each passing night, Wynonna found it easier and easier to talk with Remus and this fact took her by surprise.
Remus too felt similarly surprised. Though he'd always found conversations easy no matter who the person, he had expected a tension between the two of them specifically. All their playful banter aside, and Wynonna's constant jibes, he'd imagined the facade would eventually fall away, leaving an uncomfortable air between them. But each day, he was surprised to find that never happened. If anything, the opposite occurred and he found himself getting used to her presence, getting used to talking to her and having her around.
If someone had told him when he'd been a student that he'd one day spend so much time with Wynonna and not only tolerate it but enjoy it, developing something almost like friendship with her, he never would have believed them. He'd have thought that Wynonna would always hate him. But he was now beginning to wonder if it'd ever really been hate to begin with. Even Sirius had once told him that her behavior toward him during school was not what hate looks like. Regardless, he still didn't know what it ought to have been called.