The Hulk and the Beast: Chapter Ten

December 18, 2013

They recovered twenty-eight books. The biggest surprise was the twenty-ninth artefact, if it could be called that. It was a photo album of Remus' family. The only reason why Red Skull wanted it was because it was chock full of magical pictures. They were baby pictures, but they moved. It looked like Stark Tech, but most of the pictures were taken with a polaroid.

The rest of the books belonged to the Lupin Family. Most of them were middle school level text books about magic, the first year were heavily marked by Remus and a few doodles from his friends in school.

"At least we have a Christmas present for the kid," Tony said, staring blankly at a picture of Hope Lupin holding a three year Remus, giving him a bath in the kitchen sink. Remus was splashing happily away while rubber duckies floated around his head, held aloft by his father's magic wand.

"At least we have some sort of explanation for why Remus can teleport," Steve sighed.

"He's a wizard," Tony groaned. "This is crap. Magic isn't real."

"Hey, Thor, isn't your brother a wizard?" Clint asked.

"Nay, he is a trickster," Thor said. "Wizard is a Midgard word."

"Trickster, wizard. Same thing," Hulk grunted.

"But a wizard?" Tony cried.

"And we are not going to confront him," Steve added. "Don't forget about the shadow organization that's he thinks wants to kill him."

"Oh, yikes," Clint said. He was flipping through a notebook. "Tony, is this Remus' handwriting?"

Tony peaked over, "Yeah, it's a bit shaky, but it's his."

"No wonder our kid's got problems, this is just 'I will not talk to normal children' over and over again. Oh, nope, here's a different one, 'I'm a dangerous monster'. It's dated like a school assignment. 1968, he was only eight years old when he wrote this. Christ, is this written in blood?"

"If HYDRA hadn't killed Lyall Lupin, I'd do it myself," Tony snarled.

"Tony, we still don't have all of the information," Steve stressed. Judging by the look on his face however, it looked like Steve wished could make the man a nice knuckle sandwich, missing evidence be damned.

The team was split on whether or not they should give Remus his family's books or not. It seemed cruel to keep such things from him. But Steve made a very valid point that if they just sprung the books on him, it was the same as saying, 'we know you're a wizard, surprise!' And that was the last thing Remus wanted them to know. He'd have a panic attack.

Tony wanted to burn the notebook full of Remus' horrible lines, but they were written in blood, Remus' blood, which meant Tony now had samples of both pre and post-serum, so he couldn't get rid of it. The farther into the pages each session got, the shakier the handwriting became and the more likely it would be stained by tears and snot. This kid's life was a nightmare. If he wasn't getting emotionally ripped apart, he was locked in a basement ripping himself apart.

It was difficult, trying to determine how to feel about Remus' parents. One of the books was about werewolves and potential cures. Lyall had scribbled the thing almost to illegibility, trying to find a way to ease his son's suffering. There were complaints about how archaic the laws were, how the new ones were almost always even worse. He was trying to prepare his son for a world that wanted him dead.

Seeing the pictures of him, holding Remus like he was a lifeline, from when he was an infant to well after he'd been bitten made the whole thing messy. It was as difficult to connect the loving father in the pictures and the scribbled margins to a man that would force Remus to write such horrible lines in his own blood, to the point that Remus started crying. Admittedly, Remus cried very easily, but that wasn't the point.

No wonder Remus clung to them so desperately. Even with their insane schedule and laundry list of problems, they were the most stable adults he'd ever lived with.

Nat had some fun news for them when they landed. Apparently Remus made contact with unknown individuals and talked to them for five hours, from approximately 2200 to 0400. When she confronted him, he claimed he was talking to no one, lying to her from the other side of the door. Nat was very suspicious, but JARVIS wasn't giving her clearance to the security recordings of Remus' room, which meant he detected no threats. Tony was confident in his programming skills.

"He's almost a teenager," Tony said. "He's bound to talk to his friends until ass o'clock in the morning."

"What friends?" Clint asked. "He hasn't started school yet. We're the only people he knows in this dimension."

"He's very secretive," Steve said. "We need to earn his trust, not force him into confessing."

"We should have his trust by now."

"His entire life has been nothing but hiding who he is," Steve reminded them. "That takes more than two months to overcome. If Tony says JARVIS is accurate, then I trust that he wasn't talking to anyone nefarious."

"I don't think it was anyone bad," Nat ceded, "but the only people he knows on this planet are us, SHIELD, and HYDRA."

"Maybe he was talking to Spidey?" Clint asked.

"More than one voice," Nat shook her head. "Two male, two female. They sounded young, close to his age."

"We'll just have to wait until he's comfortable with telling us," Steve said.

December 25, 2013

In the end, they decided to give Remus the photo album of his family. It was cruel to keep something like that from him, even if it did risk them letting on that they knew what Remus didn't want them to know. Plus, Tony had already bought the kid everything his heart desired, which made it really difficult to shop for presents.

Remus shot up another inch since his last growth spurt.

"I'm coming for you," Remus joked with Tony.

Two months ago, Tony was nine inches taller than Remus. Now he was six. Remus also inexplicably wasn't filling out, despite eating nearly as much as Steve. He was lanky and awkward, with knobby knees and knobby elbows. That was a fun teasing session for Clint, learning that knob had a very different meaning on the other side of the pond.

Christmas was as chaotic as Thanksgiving had been. There was just as large a mountain of food. Thor was confused as to the purpose, but he never passed up an opportunity to celebrate a great feast.

Remus celebrated Yule on the winter solstice, a custom Thor was slightly more familiar with than Christmas, it being a much older tradition. Remus also celebrated Christmas. Tony had to ask JARVIS was boxing day was, and was relieved it was essentially British Black Friday, so he wouldn't have to do anything else new.

His biggest headache, aside from his newly acquired ward turning out to be an interdimensional magical werewolf, was the media trying to get an interview with their friendly resident interdimensional magical werewolf. Remus was a lot of things, sweet, gentle, smart, camera shy, socially anxious, things that endeared him to the Avengers, but would make for a horrible Saturday Night Live guest, even if he was guarded on both sides by Tony and Pepper.

Somehow, Mr. Stark managed to make the Tower more festive than Hogwarts. Remus didn't want to know how they got the giant twenty foot tall Christmas tree this high off the ground when it most certainly didn't fit in the elevator. The worst part was the giant pile of presents that appeared overnight. It wouldn't have been so bad if most of them were addressed to him.

Remus had holed up in his room most of the last week, worrying about his friends. Leave it to those idiots to find a way to worry him from several dimensions away. He chewed his nails to stubs!

He could hear Sirius's voice in the back of his head, 'Stop being such a worry wolf, Moony,' he'd say. 'Yeah, we know what we're doing,' James would laugh. No, they wouldn't listen to Remus when he tried to explain that last time they both said that they'd blown themselves up in Myrtle's bathroom.

Admittedly Sirius hadn't called him a wolf or Moony last time, but still. They knew now so it was only logical they'd poke fun at that, too. They didn't understand how important worrying was. Everything was a game to them. They never chewed their nails to stubs or cried themselves to sleep, so Remus wasn't sure his way was best. It was simply the only thing he knew how to do.

When the Avengers confronted him on why he was spending so much time in his room, minus when they came to pester him out to celebrate the holidays, he meekly explained it was hormones, probably.

That had been a fun confrontation with Thor, who took the opportunity to give Remus 'The Talk' Asgardian style, 'There comes a time in all young men's lives when they are swept up in the urge to explore the universe and fight giant space octopi. Why, I fought a troll when I was your equivalent age!' Remus didn't think a twelve year old should fight a troll unless perhaps they were the God of Thunder. He didn't want to know what a space octopus was.

Now, it was Christmas morning and the only thing Remus could think about was that James and Meriam gave up what was likely their last holiday with their parents so they could talk to Remus for five hours. He glared mournfully down at the mirror, selfishly wishing that it would turn back on. Maybe after they talked they went home? That would make Remus feel so much better. It was a small comfort that Lily and Sirius had escaped their own horrid home lives for one winter.

"Remus, buddy, don't you want to open presents?" Clint knocked on his door. "Cap said we can open one now and then the rest are for after dinner. Also, you don't get out here now and I'm not sure we'll be able to save you any breakfast. Hulk's eyeing the batter."

"I'm not hungry!" Remus squeaked.

"It's chocolate crepes, like you like. Just for you, kid."

"That's alright, really…" Remus couldn't look away from the mirror. What if they died trying? Or worse, what if they didn't and then they were here, because of him, away from their families… who were either dead, dying, or hated them. But they couldn't possibly do this for him, he wasn't special, he was dangerous and a monster and…

"It's Christmas, Remy," Clint said. "Christmas, man."

"I know," Remus sighed. "I'll be out in a bit."

He was allowed two days to be happy, Christmas and his birthday. Remus pulled on a sweatshirt with a big pocket, so he could hide the mirror. He couldn't stand the thought of his friends calling and him not being there. What if they needed him? How could he help, from all the way in alternate New York? He was so worried he could barely eat. He picked at the edges of his chocolate pancake, or crepe as everyone else was calling them. Americans didn't know a lot of the proper words for things.

"What, no ugly Christmas sweater?" Mr. Stark asked. He was wearing what had to be a custom jumper. It had a Christmas tree on it and the star was lit by the glowing arc reactor on his chest. It wasn't very ugly, but it was likely the ugliest thing Mr. Stark could bare to lower himself too. He had standards, dammit.

Remus shrugged, one hand in his pocket gripping the mirror. What if they called while there were people around? Maybe he shouldn't have brought it, it would out him immediately and he'd get in so much trouble.

"We were supposed to go down together, ward of mine."

"Sorry," Remus muttered. He was starting to work himself into nausea again. If only James would call, he and Sirius always knew how to distract Remus. "Just wasn't feeling it. I… I can go change?"

"That's alright, whatever makes you comfortable."

It would be unlike James not to bother him on a holiday. James was a bothery sort of person. He enjoyed getting reactions out of people, especially reactions of embarrassment from his friends, induced by James complimenting them to the extremes. James so nice he was a dick about it.

But if James' voice started coming out of his pockets while he was surrounded by the Avengers, who all in some way reported to SHIELD, who can't know about magic because then Remus would be killed by the Ministry and he really, really didn't want that to happen… all he could tease from his jumble of a brain was worry and Fear the Ministry.

"I think actually I will change," Remus bolted from the common room and slammed his door shut behind him.

He could feel his magic sealing it off as he paced the room, panicking. The lights were flickering again. Oh, Merlin, he was going to be found. Someone was going to find him and take him away, be it HYDRA finally deciding they wanted their pet werewolf back or the Ministry to put him a dark cell to await execution.

Remus pulled out the mirror and glared at his reflection, "James," he hissed. "James, can you hear me?"

There was no response.

"Meriam?"

Still silence.

"Sirius, please," Remus shook the mirror, as if that would help.

All he saw was his own reflection, slowing going insane from worry and loneliness.

"Lily, Lily, Lily, don't leave me," Remus begged. "Please, someone, anyone, answer, please. Don't do it, please, don't get yourselves hurt or…"

Remus was crying again. Maybe if he cried, the universe would see that as a wonderful opportunity to punish him for being such a weak little cry baby, and it would allow his friends to hear him, just so they could mock him. At least then they'd be alive and well and not horribly disfigured animal-human hybrids.

"Please, I don't want anything to happen to you," Remus sniffled. "Just answer me, dammit, it's Christmas. It's Christmas!"

Remus returned to the common area, which was dominated by the massive, gaudy Christmas tree and a pile of presents. He was determined not to waste Christmas holed up in his room, staring at his reflection.

Clint found and snagged him the ugliest Iron Man sweater in the state of New York, possibly the world, and Remus figured it would be a good distraction from his red, puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

Mr. Stark intercepted him before Remus could join the others on the couches around the tree. The enter gang was there minus Sam, who was in Vermont with his mother and the rest of his family. A ski vacation, Sam had said. It sounded fun but much too exciting for Remus. Maybe next year, when everything started feeling real again.

"Ah, no, what's that," Mr. Stark lamented, looking at Remus ugly Iron Man jumper.

"You said wear the ugliest jumper I could find," Remus said, much too innocently. "This was the ugliest, obviously."

Mr. Stark put a hand over his arc reactor in pain.

"I know, I know, I wound you," Remus smirked.

"I'm regretting adopting you," Mr. Stark said with a face too straight for him to be serious. He put an arm over Remus, "Have you been crying?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"Uh, yeah," Remus admitted, wiping his face once more, as though that would fix it. "I… first Christmas without my parents," he said meekly.

He felt even more horrible after he said that. He hadn't actually thought that until right now. He had been too busy worrying about his friends and the Ministry. He hadn't had a lot of energy left over to process being an orphan since June.

"Yeah, first Christmas is always the hardest," Mr. Stark said. "Lots of eggnog." He frowned. "But maybe wait until your older."

"Why? What's in the eggnog besides egg and nog?" Remus said slyly. Changing the subject always worked on Mr. Stark.

"Don't change the subject, young man," Mr. Stark poked Remus gently on the forehead. Ever since he officially took Remus in as his ward, he'd been trying to act more responsible towards Remus. "Come on, we got you a present. You'll like it."

"Only one?" Remus said, looking at the numerous presents under the tree. "Some assembly required, then?"

"Don't be smart," Mr. Stark bopped him on the nose. "That's my job."

How many times had Dad said that to Remus and followed it with a slap or a backhand. Even a close fisted punch a few times. But Mr. Stark only ever meant it in jest. It was so odd, to be treated more warmly by someone who was essentially a stranger. Maybe that's why he was finding it difficult to miss his father that much. That made him feel worse. He was a horrible son.

Mr. Stark sat Remus down between Clint and the Hulk. It was a precarious seat, but one only occupiable by Remus, who had a calming effect on the Hulk. Hulk looked very festive, all green with a red Santa hat.

Ms. Widow appeared from the shadows and handed him a present shaped like a binder. Whatever it was, they were all looking at him with baited breath. Maybe it was a fancy edition of one of Remus favorite books. Mr. Stark had already bought him an entire library, so he had all his favorite books, but not all of them were the fanciest editions. Captain Rogers managed to reign Mr. Stark in just a little bit.

It could be an original manuscript, or something. Remus wouldn't put it past him, he was as frivolous with money as James was and didn't understand that spending more than ten galleons on a present was overkill. He would never forget the fifty pound basket of Honeydukes James bought him last year. It was excessive. And also delicious. He was distracting himself again.

"It's a present, kid, you're supposed to open it," Mr. Stark said.

They were all looking at him, "I'd feel more comfortable if, uh… someone else went first?"

"Dibs on the big one!" Clint jumped up from the couch and immediately went to the largest present, which was not actually addressed to him but to the Hulk.

"Barton, sit down," Mr. Stark sighed.

Remus felt very small, with everyone looking at him. Maybe he'd grown a second head last night and he hadn't noticed yet. No, he'd been looking at his reflection all morning. The only thing he looked was tired, which was normal.

Remus took a very deep breath, pretended like the six biggest heroes in the world weren't looking directly at him, and delicately broke the tape on the packaging.

"Are you kidding me?" Mr. Stark snorted. "That's how you open presents?"

"It's reusable!" Remus squeaked.

"Kid, I can afford wrapping paper."

Remus turned very red. His family had one roll of wrapping paper and while Dad could repair it if Remus ripped it apart, he never wanted to be an inconvenience. And the habit of being very careful with everything was painfully intentional.

"Kid smash," Hulk poked him in the side of the face with a fingertip that covered his entire cheek.

"Alright, alright," Remus waved him away. He took a deep breath, channeled his inner wolf, and shredded the paper off. It was visceral and very fun.

"Smash!" Hulk celebrated happily.

He was breathing a little harder than usual. He felt that familiar twinge of guilt when he looked down at the demolished wrapping paper, little twinkling pieces of red paper. He was about to make some comment about how that made him feel – gross, animalistic, violent, good – but when he saw what the paper had been hiding, he felt his stomach drop.

"How?" Remus croaked.

How had they gotten his family's photo album? How had… had they gone to his home dimension without him? What if the Ministry… he was looking at his mother's face for the first time in seven months. He could tell he was crying, but he didn't much care. They'd all seen him cry. He was a cry baby. He missed his Mam.

"We… uh… Skull had it, for some reason," Mr. Stark said. "Found it raiding one of his storage facilities."

"Thank you," Remus squeaked. "I don't feel good. Goodnight!"

Remus bolted from the couch and back into his room.

"He liked it?" Hulk grunted in confusion.

"I think so," Captain Rogers sighed.

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