TONKS
Come to me now,
And lay your hands over me,
Even if it's a lie,
Say it will be alright,
And I shall believe.
Sheryl Crow – I shall Believe
The healers don't let me leave the bed for another week after I start waking up on a consistent schedule, concerned my internal organs may decide to spontaneously combust inside me . They treat me like...well like I took the brunt of a killing curse, and am living on borrowed time. I certainly feel like I am, though my mother doesn't like it very much when I say so.
Speaking of my mother…
She spends the rest of my time in St. Mungo's at my bedside, transitioning between fretting over me, and lecturing my ears off. I tell her about Remus, in a weak moment when his prolonged absence hurts the most, and she doesn't take the news well. Not because he's a werewolf, she tells me, but because of his association to the organization that landed me here.
She demands I leave him first, then the Order, and when I tell her neither are going to happen, she tries to convince me instead to quit my job.
Over and over she presses, and while I try to consider how much this ordeal has put her through when I respond, by the fourth day my shambled psyche can't handle it anymore.
"Mother!" I snap, my head swimming with the body I put into the word. "I'm not quitting my fucking job, I'm not leaving the Order, and I can date whoever the bloody hell I want to! Stop treating me like I'm still a child, and stop trying to dictate my life! This is who I am, who you raised, damnit!"
I can see the fury building within her at my words, but just as she opens her mouth to speak, I lean over the side of the bed and lose what little food I'd managed to get down that morning. My vision swims, and if not for my mother's hands on my shoulders I probably would've gone face first into my mess. She guides me back up, her trembling arms wrapping around me as she sits.
She holds me close, as if I might slip away.
"Why do you insist on being a part of anything and everything dangerous?" she sobs into the top of my head. "It's not enough to be an Auror – to make me wonder every night if I'm going to see your name in the Prophet obituaries the next morning. You go off and join a rebellion, then start dating a werewolf! You're going to put me in an early grave, if you don't beat me there."
"I can't change who I am to make you feel better mum," I reply softly into her chest, swallowing back my nausea.
She lets out a long sigh before whispering, "I know…Merlin, I know. You get it from your father, I tell you."
I laugh softly, lifting my head to give her a right glare. "Says the woman who had the courage to leave the most notoriously dark family in the wizarding world, and married a muggle? I don't think it was dad I got my stubbornness from."
She just smiles.
Ten days after admittance, I'm finally discharged to go home.
Mum tries to convince me to stay with her instead of going home, but Mad-Eye insists I stay at Grimmauld Place. He soothes her fire by reminding her that I'd been seen by Death Eaters, and in my condition it would be much safer if I stayed at the heavily warded headquarters. I rather think my condition is alright, considering, but I don't have the energy to argue.
So, clad in a pair of my old fleece night bottoms, and a soft pink sweater Molly had knitted me, I stumble through the door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place for the first time since Sirius had died. I stop just inside the door, Mad-Eye close behind me, and take in the solemnness of the old mansion. It's the quietest I have ever known it to be.
"He's really gone, huh?" I say aloud, turning to Mad-Eye.
He gives me a hard look, nodding. "I'm afraid so girl."
"How many more do you think we'll lose?" I ask bitterly, tears welling up. "How many, before the war is over?"
"As many as it takes," he replies darkly.
/
For days, I expect Remus.
I thought maybe his not visiting me in the hospital once I came 'round was just him taking precautions, in case anyone from my job decided to visit, other than Kingsley. I was willing to forgive him for that, especially because he had been there in the beginning when I was far worse off. But, now that I'm in an easier, significantly less public place…what excuse can I make?
I tell myself he just needs time, to deal with the trauma of losing Sirius, of nearly losing me, which is quite reasonable. I stubbornly cling to the hope that each time the front door opens, it's him, finally come to hold me, and kiss me, and tell me everything will be alright. It never is though, and after a few days the excuse seems to hold less and less weight.
A week comes and goes, and by the end of it, I'm convinced that Remus isn't coming back at all.
Of course, in true Remus fashion, he comes round right as I'm giving up on him.
I lay cozy on the couch-turned-bed in the first floor study, which I'd claimed as living quarters to avoid having to climb up the stairs when I was feeling far less physically capable. I read by the dull light of a dying lamp, struggling to keep my eyes open. I force myself to stay awake though, having promised Molly I would come and share a meal with her in the kitchen tonight.
She'd been coming back and forth from the Burrow each morning and evening to make sure I'm fed and entertained – a saint, that woman. So when there's a soft knock at my door, I assume it's finally her, relief flooding me that I wouldn't sleep her away. I close my book, setting it aside and tossing the covers away so I can get up and get decent for the dinner table.
"Come in," I call, standing on sore legs and reaching for my discarded sweater.
It's not Molly though, it's Remus, standing in the doorway with a look on his face that would frighten the devil. I freeze, very aware I'm wearing nothing but threadbare shorts – I'd gotten sick of fabric rubbing against the frustratingly slow to heal lightening-like scars blossoming across my sternum. I hadn't minded the nudity when it was just Molly but…
Remus takes me in with hard eyes, and I feel vulnerable in a way I've felt before. "Too many people I love bare those scars."
"Remus I-" I stumble over my words, unsure of what to say to the man. "Uh, Molly will be over soon with dinner if-"
"Molly isn't coming," he tells me, coming in and closing the door behind himself. "I paid the Burrow a visit, and promised I'd take care of you for the evening."
I swallow hard, joy and rage fighting for the helm. "Why?"
He frowns, taking a few steps closer, stopping an arm's length from me. "Tonks I…I'm sorry. Truly, I am sorry. I know it doesn't make up for it but-"
"Where were you?" I cut, voice breaking against my will. "I waited…I kept hoping that you'd just show up, or write, or give me some kind of sign that you weren't gone for good. That you didn't- that you didn't leave me-"
My breath hitches, and suddenly tears are pouring down my cheeks and I can't manage to stand any longer – I collapse back onto the couch, crossing my arms over my chest and curling in on myself, gritting my teeth to hold back the proper sobs that threaten to come out.
The cushion beside me caves in as Remus sits, pulling me into his arms – I go willingly.
"I know, I know," he comforts, not bothering to hide the regret from his voice as we cling to one another. "I…I just, I needed time away. First because of Sirius, then because…well, because Dumbledore asked something of me, something really hard, and I needed time away to think about it before making a decision – away from you especially. I needed to be sure, before I had to face you and tell you what I agreed to."
I sit up, looking at him through bleary eyes. "What you agreed to?"
"We will talk about it. I promise, but can you just afford me…an hour more, maybe, before that?" he replies, his tone shifting.
"For what?" I ask exhaustedly, swiping my tears away.
"I'd like to make love to you, Tonks, before everything else goes to hell," he tells me, a hint of desperation in his tone. "If you'll have me, that is. I know I'm in no position to deserve such an honor, but-"
"Yes," I cut, sitting stiffly upright now, heart hammering. "Yes Remus."
His brows raise at the suddenness of my answer. "You're sure? You're not too upset with me?"
"I'm terribly upset," I admit honestly. "But we've both been through a lot, and all I've wanted this whole time is you. I just want you, I want to forget the world and be with you, even if it's only for a little while."
"Tonks…" he starts, but the time for words is over.
He leans in, agonizingly slowly, and our lips meet in the softest, most emotionally charged kiss I can ever recall sharing with someone. I shiver as the emotions flood me, warming the chill that'd seem to permanently take up residence in my bones. I cling to his coat, sure that if I let go of him he'll change his mind, or disappear, or this will all wind up being a dream.
My bare chest rubs against the worn material of his sweater, and though it does cause just a twinge of pain, it brings along much more desperate feelings too. Gooseflesh rises across the expanse of my skin, and suddenly the room is too cold, and Remus is so fucking warm. His kiss is persistent, dizzying me with all the things it makes me feel, all at once.
Remus deepens the kiss, strokes of his tongue driving me half mad as he pulls me closer by the hips.
He pulls back, quieting my protests with a huff of laughter as he removes his coat and shoes, tossing them away. I reach out, grabbing hold of the hem of his sweater and tugging it over his head. There's a dark, desperate look in his eyes as I drop it to the floor, and suddenly we're kissing again, bare chests pressed together, making us both groan.
He gently guides us back until I'm stretched out beneath him and he's leaning over me, hips nestled snugly between my legs, hands on either side of my head.
He leans down, breath warm on my neck. "Is this okay?"
"This is perfect," I hum back, wiggling my hips for good measure.
He grinds down against me in response, and with the most well placed pressure – I can't help the sudden gasp that comes out. I blush violently, but as he trails kisses across my chest, up my neck, and down my jaw, I no longer find it in me to be bashful about the sounds I'm making. Remus certainly doesn't mind them, if his physical reaction to them is any kind of indication.
He lifts himself slightly, so that his weight is more to one side, and he can trail his fingers down the exposed side as he kisses me senseless. My skin practically burns at his touch, his fingers moving lower and lower at a frustratingly slow pace. Finally they come to rest at the waistband of my shorts, and he breaks our kiss, taking a shaky breath.
"May I?" he whispers against my ear.
"God Remus, yes," I reply breathily.
He meets no resistance between my legs, and for as long as I live I'll never forget the rugged, desperate, lusty sound he makes upon discovering how badly I want him.
"You're a dream, Dora Tonks," he moans.
Dora, that's new…and I don't hate it.
I gasp he starts to pull away, but I catch his wrist and hold him firm. "Please, don't stop."
Remus, a new confidence overtaking him, obliges.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of pining after him, of fighting for him, we make love – and it is everything I ever imagined it would be. Every kiss, every touch, every sound we share makes the whole night feel serenely unreal. Remus is such a kind lover, and I know with ever part of me that I will never be able to love another man – this is it for me.
After, as we lay snug in each other's arms, the heaviness of the world temporarily lifted from our shoulders, the war outside quiet, if only for a moment, I etch every moment of this night into my memory.
"I love you, Remus," I whisper against his chest.
He's silent, for a bit too long – the moment shatters, and the world drops back on me like a sack of stones.
"Dora." The tone of Remus' voice is dark, hesitant.
"Right, your explanation…" I sigh grimly.
"Yes," he replies, shifting his weight so he can look down at me.
"I don't suppose we can just skip the bad news," I reply tiredly, meeting his gaze.
"Afraid not," he breathes, drawing circles on my belly. "You'd never forgive me if I went off and did this without telling you."
"Well, what is it then?" I steel myself for the worst of it, and still I'm not ready for what he tells me.
"Dumbledore has asked me to join my old pack to-"
"He what!" I shout, cutting him off, sitting up so quickly my head spins. "You told him no. Remus please tell me you- you didn't!"
"No one else can do this Dora," he reasons, pushing himself up to sit beside me, grabbing for my hand.
I rip my hand away from his. "No one should be doing it! It's madness!
"It's not madness, it makes perfect sense that Voldemort would be recruiting dark creatures, and we really should have thought of this sooner," he replies, more like a professor than a lover. "If it were anyone but me going, you would agree."
Though I know what he says is true, I can't help the indignant sound I make. "Remus you can't, what if…what if…"
"We all have to do everything we can, especially now that the war has really begun," he tells me, grabbing for my hand once more – I let him. "I don't like it any more than you, the timing isn't exactly perfect, but I have to do my part."
I close my eyes, sucking in a deep breath and holding it for a long moment – when I finally let it out, tears come with it. "Remus…"
My voice comes out small and pitiful.
Remus pulls me into his arms again, laying us both back into the pillows, kissing the tears from my cheeks one by one as he whispers. "I know my love, this war won't last forever. It won't, it can't."
But as I cry myself to sleep, knowing full well there's nothing else I can do or say to keep Remus safe – or anyone I love really – I can't help but feel maybe it might.