Chapter Fifteen: Devil's Maker

Time in the Vault passed very slowly. In the cold of the underground, with the regulated temperatures and airflow, time may as well not have passed at all. These conditions were the sort for preserving books, not for preserving life. And yet the concrete fortress was the only thing keeping them alive. In the three weeks time since they had settled here, the world seemed to progress into the future without them. The sun rose and set, as it was wont, and the daytime stars became the nighttime stars despite never changing their places. The moon was the only true change from day to day. The moon, which by now had grown very, very fat.

And with it, the ambient stress.

"I still want to go with you."

"No."

Anders paused. He felt electricity on the back of his neck, and his throat felt tight. He knew he was treading on thin ice, but that was a risk he felt willing to take. The mess hall was empty, and they could talk as freely as they wanted. He had been on this for weeks now with no success. This was his last chance, and the sense of urgency pressed heavily on his lips.

"Remus, please. You know that my only wish is to help."

But Remus said nothing, continuing to nurse his late morning tea and looking positively green. There was a ritual to the full moon days, he had explained; a way that he liked to prepare himself, or ease each passing hour. The tea was a critical part of that, he said. It helped relax him and keep him alert, and when his senses began to feel hyper-aware, the scent of a well-prepared black tea could bring him back home.
But this was not home. And, judging by the look on the wizard's face, Anders guessed that this tea was not having the desired effect whatsoever.

Remus had a small breakfast of poached eggs and re-hydrated beans that he continued to pick at with a fork though it had long gone cold. "And I have already said no, Anders. Please respect that."

Anders opened his mouth several times to respond but without any words in mind he looked more like a suffocating fish than a man pushing a point. Finally, he cleared his throat. "And why not? At least give me a good reason. We have had this conversation enough times before today, though now the time has come and you still turn me away. I don't understand!"

"There is nothing to understand. I merely do this alone," Remus said simply, though he stabbed his plate a little harder and the lines around his mouth twitched. "I appreciate your offer, Anders, truly I do. And as I have said, with enough time I will come to you. But this is not the time."

Anders frowned into his own mug, flinching when the string from the tea bag tickled his cheek. He twisted it into a knot around his finger and held it aloft, plopping it onto a napkin. He sighed.

Why, why wouldn't Remus allow this? Why would he not want someone there to ease his suffering? Someone who might reduce his pain and his recovery time-someone who was not afraid? Someone who cared. A friend, for Andraste's sake. After all they had been through, Anders liked to think that he had earned Remus' trust. So then why in all creation would Remus still choose to go it alone?

A frustrated noise stopped halfway out of his throat. What if something happens, something serious? Anders watched Remus bring his cup up to drink; how the mug could cover his nose but not the scar slicing across the bridge and beneath his eye. Last month was a fluke, he said: running through the wilds kept him free from harm, but was a fatal mistake that could never be allowed to repeat.

Did Remus think Anders was blind? They shared sleeping quarters now. Anders could insinuate all the jokes he wanted about it, but the fact remained that they never even changed in the same room. But Anders had seen the scars last month when Remus came out of the woods. And it was not hard to spot them under rolled-up sleeves and on his stomach when he reached for something high on the shelf. It did not take a Grand Enchanter to surmise that they covered his flesh. What did it take for one sharp claw or fang to sever the wrong vein? Or worse?

Anders put his mug down with a loud clunk. "Remus, please. All I am asking is for the chance to help! Allow me to try! Why won't you let me do this?"

"Because I do not need help, Anders," Remus replied sharply, warningly. "Nor do I want it. I am more than capable of doing this alone."

But perversly, Remus' defensiveness made Anders want to push harder. "But you won't be alone," he pressed. "Naoya is accompanying you. And he won't be of any help like I would."

"He won't be helping me. Naoya is coming for reasons we all understand."

Anders hated how Remus could punctuate his sentences with sips of tea. "That's not good enough. Look at yourself-it's nowhere near moonrise and you look terrible! I worry for you. I worry about Naoya. I don't know what's going to happen, Remus, and-and I suppose I'm just frightened of that. This is new to me, as this situation must be to you-can you not understand? What if something happens while you're gone?"

Remus sighed, his face tired. "We are all afraid," he said. "But that does not change the fact that you must remain. Someone must stay behind to keep the peace while we're gone. Tensions are high enough as it is, and it looks suspicious if we all go together. I would not have Naoya accompany me at all if the choice was ours. And I'm more than capable of dealing with myself. I know exactly what needs to be done. Anders, it is only one night."

Only one night? Did he truly believe that, Anders wondered? Did he truly believe that this would all be over in the span of twenty-four hours, when everything they have tried to do thus far has ended in catastrophe or worse? Of all the ridiculous, nugshit reasons to stay behind, "looking the part" was the last thing Anders wanted to do when people he cared about were involed. This wasn't about them keeping the peace with the Firestarters-this was about his friend! His friend, who was about to leave and engage in a ritualistic period of agonistic suffering that there was nothing Anders could do about because the damned man was too prideful to let someone else into his life and help him through suffering he need not endure-

"Enough!"

Anders' eyes widened and his mouth went slack as abruptly derailed thoughts piled across his tongue. The sound of his voice echoed in his ears, and cold shards ripped down his spine as he realized what he had done.

Across the table, Remus' gaze was caustic. "I have tried to be complaisant. I have tried to be amiable. How many times must I say it? I don't owe you an explanation," he said, and his knuckles were white on his mug as he struggled to maintain the appearance of calm. "Yet you continue to demand them as though there were a chance that anything could change."

Anders felt Remus' glare like knives. He swallowed. "Remus, I-"

But Remus put a hand up, silencing him. "No. No, you wanted an explanation, Anders, so let me explain a few things to you now. First, as I have said, as we have all known, Naoya will accompany me because due to my fear and irresponsibility he may now be a dark creature, like me."

The mage opened up his mouth to protest, but was once again cut off.

"Second, what happens to me is suffering I must endure-and I endure it dutifully, month after month, because there is nothing I or anyone can do to stop it. Nothing. And I endure it alone because I am fully capable of dealing with my affliction on my own, thank you very much. I have been doing this for twenty years, and I know my body. I know my affliction. I do not need your company or your comfort, and I won't risk breaking free of my confinement and attacking you while you sleep.

"Third," he breathed, "I appreciate what you are offering, Anders, as I have said. But the last thing I need is someone to watch over me. Let me be clear: I do not require an audience."

Anders glowered, his face burning. Some part of him realized that this anger was unbecoming of Remus, but a deeper part of him seethed. Justice was somewhere in the background urging caution, but he may as well have been the wind. As it was it took everything the mage had just to keep the snarl from his tone.

"Is that what you think this is?" he spat. "You honestly think I want to go with you out of some tasteless desire to watch? My interest in this is solely concern. This is hardly a fucking inquisition! You know I'm capable! You know I'm skilled! And you know that I'm your friend-or, I thought you knew. But you still go on as if I view this as a medical curiosity rather than something terrible happening to someone I care about!"

"You have no experience," Remus protested in that cool, level tone that made Anders' teeth grind. "You don't know the danger."

"Why would I put myself into a situation I didn't think I could handle, Remus?" Anders demanded, dropping both of his elbows onto the table with enough force to send droplets of tea spilling from his cup. "If I can take on broodmothers and survive hoards of darkspawn I can certainly handle one werewolf. But what if you break out while Naoya is there, hm? What happens if he doesn't change, and you two are locked in together? What would change? Tell me, Remus! Tell me why you insist on doing this alone when you don't have to anymore! Tell me why you think I want to watch, when I have only offered healing and shown only love for a friend! And this saintly duty that you feel you have to your illness will only end in you gravely injured and alone! You think I want to watch like this is some sort of sick performance, when you are sitting here before me looking like you're walking into a war and my only wish is to-"

With a jolt Remus stood, fingers wrapped around either end of the table. He leaned forward dangerously.

"You are offering me to-to what, to learn how to face each month with something other than dread? A speedy recovery and a few less days of ill health? For how long, Anders? How long is it going to take for me to become dependent on that? To become accustomed to it, accustomed to you-to having someone around, someone there to make it more bearable? What happens when everyone is gone and I am suddenly alone with this once more? I can't go through that again, Anders! I won't! Now, enough of this!"

By the end his voice had petered out into more ache and loss than anger, but it was not the driving tone. Remus vanished the last vestiges on his plate and strode with it to the dishwasher, slamming the door harder than he intended.

Behind him, Anders stood with a hard scrape of the chair against the floor. He rubbed his fingers against his palms, smothering the fire that threatened to erupt. "Alright-I don't care anymore. I won't even bother. It's as you said before: we might be doing this for a very long time. So why should I try and make things better when you are clearly doing fine on your own?" His hands were growing hotter than was safe, and they started to ache. Anders seethed. "And if you decide you want to stop wallowing in self pity long enough to come to your senses, then you know where to find me!"

Black boots strode hard against the linoleum as Anders tore himself from the hall, leaving Remus as he so clearly wanted to be: alone.

"You'll have to cut through the brush to find your way back," said Wash, and for a split second she thought of pulling out a machete for them to carry with them. But something about this "magic" business told her that they probably wouldn't need it. So she said instead, "Do you expect any trouble finding it again? We don't have maps."

"I don't expect it will be a problem," Remus said, giving a thoughtful tap to the soles of his shoes. "Once we hike back the way we came to the Vault, we can follow the plant trails through the woods."

Wash observed him and his minimal supplies, standing beside the exterior door and looking ready to drop. A supply run this may be, but the dead don't carry anything back. "You're sure you don't want more hands?"

"Oh yes," he assured. "We'll be more than fine. The supplies we're looking for aren't heavy at all. And if we do find something heavy, it will be easy enough to bring it back." He added this last part with a wave of his wand through his fingers.

Wash frowned, leaning against the door mechanism. "I still don't like this. You should take someone with you."

Naoya's sneakers slapped against the metal stairs as he came to meet the others by the door. "Who can we take? Aren't most of us still grounded? And is it such a good idea to send me and Renkotsu out into the woods alone?"

Wash pointed to Remus. "You won't be alone."

"I think Renkotsu sets fires to feel joy. Does it matter if I'm alone or not?"

Wash slapped Naoya with an unamused stare. "You are lucky to be going at all. But apparently Remus needs you on this mission. Something about 'psychic senses," she said with an unsatisfied eye roll. "But don't think that when you get back that you have any privileges. After your excursion to the river you four are lucky you are still allowed to see the sun."

Naoya rested his chin against curled fingers, giving Wash an audacious look. "Yes, ma'am," he said lowly, defeated.

"You know what?" Wash paused suddenly, her brow creasing. "I'll go with you. I want to see what's left of that old town."

Naoya watched Remus visibly pale as he scrambled internally for something to say. If the situation weren't so serious, it would have been kind of funny. But Naoya felt something within him change after a span, something that Naoya struggled to identify.

Remus straightened. "Lieutenant," he said slowly, "there is... something you should know."

The psychic turned his head, looking to Remus with a look of shock, confusion and concern. Was he really...?

But if Remus saw Naoya, he made no show of it. His mouth was a hard line as he allowed himself a second to breathe, standing on a precipise inside his head. Remus swallowed. Every word was contradictory to his very existence, but he had come to terms with it long before.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you. We are not going out on a supply run."

Wash's dark eyes narrowed, and Remus was well aware. "You must understand," he said very quickly, "that this does not endanger you or the Vault in any way, and is an entirely personal matter."

"What is it?" Wash demanded, her gaze still fixed and turning wary. "Just say it."

"I-" Remus flexed his hands, unconsciously bringing them to cross over his chest before realizing and forcing them down. "I am a werewolf," he said slowly, finally. "I have prearranged a place for myself to go whilst transformed, and that is where Naoya and I intend to go. You understand why I cannot allow anyone to accompany us."

"...A werewolf," Wash deadpanned. "You're a werewolf."

He was staring fixedly on the point between Wash's eyes, and his stomach was churning. Everything in him screamed against this: this, which was an act of stupidity beyond anything Remus had ever seen. "I understand if you do not wish me to stay. Please allow me this time, and I will collect my things in the morning. I can establish myself where I'm going, and live outside the Vault."

Through all of this, Naoya stared at Remus in utter disbelief. He was speechless. He tried to meet Remus' eye, but the man was unmoving. Remus' anxiety was giving him a headache.

"A werewolf," Wash said again. "Of course you're a werewolf." She shook her head, the end of her ponytail swaying with the motion. Then she sighed, a long and discontented sound, and her shoulders shuddered with the depth of her exhaustion. "I hate this place."

"As I said," Remus jumped in, stepping forward, "I will understand if you want me to leav-"

"Not you," she grumbled, waving him off with a frustrated jerk of her elbow. "You're a wizard, Anders is a magic doctor, I don't know what Naoya is but he's apparently not human, and there are talking monsters in the woods. I mean, I should expect this sort of shit by now."

Remus remained frozen in place, his mouth hanging slightly open as he stared. "I apologize," he said. "I know that this is... unexpected. It is not something I enjoy telling anyone."

"Then why did you tell me? Why didn't you just make something up?"

Remus pursed his lips, and there were several clicks as his jaw worked from right to left. "I knew that at some inevitable point you would need to be informed. It cannot be hidden forever, not living as we are. You deserve to know. You deserve to be safe. By choosing to tell you now, I want to avoid... past mistakes."

Wash raised her brow, scrutinizing Remus up and down. Her features softened. "I'm not going to kick you out," she said.

Remus' face barely changed, and yet the smallest furrow of his brow gave him away. "Thank you," he forced quietly. He watched her as though she might change her mind in the next second, but when nothing happened, Remus actually smiled. "This is-this is not what I was expecting. Thank you."

Realization overtook Wash's feminine features then. "But wait: I cut you," she said, licking her lips and waving a finger at Remus. "I cut you with the silver knife. Isn't that supposed to do something to werewolves?"

"Ah, that's pure myth," Remus replied. There was still a residual tremble in his voice. "At least for the werewolves where I come from. I can't speak for the balverines, though. You were right to check."

"There's no werewolves where I come from," Wash half-grunted dismissively. "Got dinosaurs, though. Real big ones that'll eat a man whole, if he's lucky."

"And if he's unlucky?" Naoya questioned, head tilting slightly.

"The smaller ones like the Slashers will gut you and eat you while you're still alive, and they're smart enough to get you alone," she explained, point blank. "Might leave you alone, though. You don't look like much of a meal."

"Why does everyone keep saying that," Naoya mumbled and crossed his arms with a tight pout. "I'm not that underweight."

"Regardless," Remus said, carrying over the other two, "we need to be going. We are on a schedule."

Reality embraced them all once again, and they each returned to their previous positions.

"Right. Ready when you are," Wash said, going to stand by a raised control panel.

When Remus nodded, she took hold of a large lever and began to push it upwards. From behind Remus, the monstrous door was released from seals with hissing puffs of air and began to roll backwards into a track only slightly more visible from this side than the outside. From the door, piercing beams of sunlight burst through the open space until a solid sliver of yellow gave way to a stream of gold. Particles of stone dust and waves of fresh pollen swirled in the ocean of light as the scent of fresh air mixed strangely with the sterile atmosphere within the Vault. The doorway appeared now to split the natural world and the artificial, quite literally.

Remus and Naoya stepped out. With a last glance over their shoulder as the door rolled back to a close and sealed the Vault off once more, the two of them were now entirely on their own. And that was exactly what was needed. Remus was lucky to get Naoya at all in light of the events past, but the event had been bittersweet in a way: as Naoya had taken such a fall and been weighted down with mistrust, so had Remus and Anders been rewarded with more responsibility, more trust. Three weeks ago this mission would not have been possible without a third party. A third party which would have endangered everyone.
"Nice bag," Naoya commented, glancing to the tote bag Remus wore over his shoulder.

The pouch rested against his hip, and Remus shifted its weight. "Supplies," he said before Naoya could ask about before. "Sterile bandages, that sort of thing. In case we need them."

In case you need them. The words died in Naoya's throat. He didn't need to be psychic to tell Remus was upset. He held his body stiff and moved with the grace of an unlubricated robot. The shortened sentences were forced out of jaws that were clenched far too tightly to be effective whatsoever in the delicate areas of life like problem solving. Naoya wanted to say something about it.

"Tell me we're not walking that entire way," he moaned instead.

"I thought about it," Remus replied, looking out across the forest and paths within quite seriously. "Though I'm not sure we'll have time. No, I thought that perhaps Apparition might do us one better. That is, if you think it agreeable. Don't worry, I'm fully licensed."

The look Naoya gave Remus could only be equated to that of displeased feline. "I can't say I'm a big fan of magic teleporting. I'm not even a fan of EGO who can teleport." His mouth dragged to the side, and his eyes narrowed somewhat bitterly, at the memory of one of the few other males of his kind that he'd met - a teleporting psionic who liked to show him up. "And besides, I thought you couldn't when someone was sick?"

"Would you rather walk?"

Naoya pouted. "...No."

"Then," Remus replied, once again adjusting the pack, "whenever you're ready."

"Let's just get this over with."

Remus nodded, holding out an arm. "Take it," he said. "And, you will want to hold on tightly."

Naoya continued to frown, reaching to take hold of Remus' forearm. The next thing he knew, everything was black. There was the sensation of being crushed from all sides and in the nano second it took for the image of the black sea bottom to form in his mind the air was being squeezed from his lungs. Everything was being pushed deeper: his eyeballs were being pushed into his skull, his eardrums were pushing into his skull; his teeth, his clenched fists, his arms, were sinking into ribs wrapped in iron bars and in the nothingness there was no hope of gasping for breath-

And then as quickly as the nothingness took him, it released. Naoya gasped at the return of the air, at the sudden wave of sounds assaulting his senses.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake. Careful, there." Remus lifted his right shoe and pant leg out of the stream, shaking off what water he could and drying the rest with his wand on the shore.

But Naoya had fallen to his knees, half-way draped across the shallow water and the rocky shore, reaquinting himself with the eggs he'd eaten for breakfast.

"Oh, yes, that usually happens the first time you Apparate. I'm sorry, I should have mentioned..."

"You think?" Naoya spat on the ground, bitterly eyeing the wizard over his shoulder.

But Remus was already striding up the embankment, and for a moment Naoya was too dizzy to follow. He rinsed his palate with stream water and wiped his mouth, running after the man who was rapidly earning his way to a large "I told you so" speech when all of this was over.

"Why did we end up so far away?" Naoya asked once he caught up.

"The wards Anders and I set when we first arrived here," Remus explained, indicating the area at large with his wand. He caught sight of Naoya's sopping wet clothes and frowned, pausing long enough to clean them up. "It prevents anyone from Apparating directly inside, even me. The stream was an accident," he added quickly.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should renew your license," Naoya muttered.

The Windmill looked much the same as they left it, though it had begun to become overgrown again in just the short couple of weeks since the kids had slept there. The properties of the forest continued to instill a sense of corrupt wonder in them, even now. After several moments and thorns to bare skin, they had once again freed the front door of debris and turned the knob. Other than a small, delicate layer of dust, the inside remained unchanged. Remus thought he could even smell the lavender soap from the tub upstairs that Mabel had used just prior to their departure. Though, this traditionally calming scent only unnerved him more: his head had begun to pound, and scents were overwhelming. Ashen dust from the fireplace. Rice and flour from the kitchen, stored in the burlap that made his skin itch with just one wiff. His coat still hung against the back of the couch and when he went to move it he knew he would smell the balverines on it still, weeks later, like they were hanging over him.

Naoya closed the door behind them, and Remus could still hear the birds. He could hear the wind. He thought he could hear his own heart in his chest, and the blood in his veins hissed in each capilary snaking through skin that had begun faintly to ache.

The moon was going to rise soon. He needed to work.

Remus had expected a lot of work, but perhaps he had been overly optimistic. He removed a pair of cups from the counter and placed them in the wall cabinets filled with untold other odds and ends and then charmed the cabinets shut. Blankets, books, candles, kitchenware-all of it was destructible. A werewolf trapped in here would raze it to the ground and then move on to itself. Remus vanished everything he could; woe be to the werewolf who played with shattered glass. A few Reparo charms was more than enough for most damaged property. But the worst thing for the morning after would be tossing up something swallowed.

"You forgot the salt shaker," Naoya voiced, and Remus sighed. He was right. The wizard shoved it into the drawer with the silverware and sealed that, too.

Naoya was laying down on the couch in the living area. Remus couldn't see his face-only his sneakers, dangling over the arm on one side. But he knew Naoya was watching him. There was the sound of fabric against fabric, and the teen sat up as if he'd been summoned.

"You look like you're puppy-proofing an apartment."

Remus gave Naoya a tired look, and Naoya couldn't help a sheepish grin. "Sorry."

"We're lucky to have this, either way. Though, this house has so many dangers to it. Once you transform, you'll start to destroy everything in this room."

Naoya nodded slightly, tilting his head. "Where did you go before?"

"It depended on my situation."

"That's very vague."

"Yes, it is."

Naoya frowned. He made a face so Remus wouldn't see. He watched Remus begin to circle the space now, muttering spells and drawing sigils in the air. Window panes glowed briefly as they sealed shut. Remus closed the curtains on each of the windows before moving on, charming them shut as well. Did that really matter? The air began to feel thick and oddly cold, and Naoya thought he could taste something he couldn't identify the stronger the sensation became. Across his entire body, his skin itched restlessly as though at any moment a feather would grace his flesh. The magic was palpable.
But when Remus paused for over five minutes on the door, Naoya could not sit in silence any longer.

"Why not just close the door? Not like you'll have thumbs to open it."

Remus' face darkened. "By the time I was seven, I could break down my bedroom door. There needs to be more security."

"So you used to lock yourself in your bedroom, huh?"

"My parents did, yes. Is there something you would like to ask, Naoya?" Remus still had not turned to face him, but Naoya thought he could sense the annoyance that would be there in his eyes.

"...No."

"Then, if you wouldn't mind, I need to concentrate on this. This building may be isolated, but I'm not going to count my owls before they've arrived."

"So this is what you do, every month? All this work?" Naoya spun his legs down to the floor and then pushed himself onto the arm of the couch so that he could swing his legs.

"Not normally," Remus explained, though he wasn't sure why. Perhaps it helped him just to talk. Perhaps it was nothing of the sort. "Normally, all of this is already done and only requires a touch up. These circumstances are extenuating. I did not want to risk the suspicion by disappearing each day to prepare it bit by bit. This is harder, but better overall."

"You don't want any help at all?"

"No, thank you," Remus replied again. "It is easier if I do this myself."

"Suit yourself," Naoya said, more than content to let the wizard do the heavy lifting. If Remus was so sure he was going to transform with him then it served him right to at least secure the fort. Plus, he would at least know what was safe and what was not. Right?

But that wasn't all it was with Remus. Not really. Naoya paused.

"I heard Anders muttering to himself earlier," he said. "You two had a fight, didn't you?"

Remus sighed sharply through his nose, but said nothing.

"He just wants to help, you know."

Remus did not reply immediately, focusing only on the tasks at hand. The work was not progressing as fast as he liked. "I know," he said eventually, the syllables taking forever to form.
The locks on the front door gave a jolting shudder before going completely stiff. Remus tried opening the door-first with his hand on the knob, and the second with his weight and a hard shove. The door remained solid, and the lock immobile. He sighed. Check this one off the list. Onto the next thing.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here," Naoya's voice trickled from the couch. "You probably don't know many people who you can say that about. People who want to help you, I mean."

Remus still did not look at him, continuing to the windows and beginning to set even more charms. "You're right. I can't." He felt Naoya's eyes on the back of his head, and he fought back a wave of self-consciousness that might affect his magic.

Naoya kicked his ankles against the couch with an agitated pout. "So why are you refusing his help?"

"I can take care of myself," Remus said simply. "I am not some fragile thing. I have done this for years on my own. His offer is meant well, but it is unnecessary."

"He's not going to do miracle work," Naoya replied quickly. "He's just talking pain management. What's so bad about that?"

"Nothing. But as I said, I don't require any aid."

"So you're going to let yourself be in pain because you think you deserve it, is that it?"

Now Remus stopped. His shoulders slouched, and he turned to face the teen. "That is not-"

"Before you go and lie," Naoya interrupted, tapping his temples, "remember that I'm psychic."

"I'm done discussing this," said Remus, returning to the window. "We only have so much time left, and I have work to do."

"You mean you only have so much time left," Naoya corrected him.

"You don't know that."

Naoya seemingly paused, the silence itself dripping with some kind of dark haughtiness. "So why do you want me to be a werewolf so badly?"

Remus twisted sharply. "I would never wish that on anyone," he said, keenly aware of the bitter sting in the tone he tried hard to control.

But Naoya didn't stop. "Really? Because I keep telling you over and over again that I'm not human, that I'm not going to transform, and yet here we are, in the middle of the woods, and you're locking me in. And soon, we're both going to be naked-"

"And I have told you, Naoya," said Remus with disdain, "that this is a precaution. Your situation is unprecedented. No one knows what will happen to you once the moon rises. This is precautionary, and it is a step that must be taken!"

"... Hey. Say 'precaution' one more time."

Remus closed his eyes, groaning. He could see swirls of color when he closed his eyes, and the room was beginning to spin. Somewhere inside his sinuses there was an odd pop.

"So let's look in the mirror," Naoya went on. "I may not have slept, but you're the one with the worsening complexion. You're the one looking sicker by the minute. Don't you think I would be feeling it too if I were going to turn?"

"Naoya, please," Remus replied desperately, "I need to finish this. I'm running out of time."

They both caught the slight tremor that worked its way through his wand arm. But Remus cursed as his nose began to pour, staining his shirt with blood. Pinching his nostrils he made for the couch and sat down, leaning forward as he groped through his pockets for a handkerchief. Naoya ducked as he gave up and summoned the hand cloth from the kitchen sink, pressing it to his face.

Now, as Naoya watched Remus so close to him, it was brutally evident how badly he was trembling. Naoya wondered if the other man wouldn't lose his supper at any moment if he hadn't refused anything after breakfast.

"I'll make a place for you upstairs," Remus sighed. His voice was muted by the cloth. "I can't secure it as well, I don't have time, but if you don't change then-"

"That's fine," Naoya said quietly. "That'll be fine. Don't worry about it."

The sun was still relatively high in the sky when they had arrived at the Windmill, though the slices of warm light through the stained glass swiftly becan to climb towards the ceiling as it began to descend. The shadows of the many trees began to elongate with the passage of time, and for a long while neither Naoya nor Remus did much speaking at all. As soon as he could Remus returned to his work. And eventually, after multiple tests and retests, Remus finally grew satisfied. With nothing left to do but wait, he resigned to joining Naoya and took a seat beside him on the couch with a tired sigh.

"You know, I think it makes me look kind of manly," Naoya said, pouty lips cracking a half-smile. "The scar. It was a little jarring at first to see it on me in the mirror, but I think it makes me look a little more 'masculine'."

Remus had put his head against the back of the couch, and he gave Naoya an exasperated look. Naoya returned it with a widening, cheeky grin.

"Come on," he said, smiling. "You know you like me."

Remus closed his eyes and leaned back. "You are very annoying."

Naoya only grinned wider. "You say that like I've never heard it before."

"I'm sorry, Naoya" said Remus suddenly. "I'm sorry that you're here. I never wanted this."

Naoya's smile drooped. His sleek features scrunched, and he inspected his thumbnail as if it were far more important than the conversation at hand. "Don't be sorry. If I was going to turn, it'd be way more my fault than your own. I got careless. Didn't think what happened the whole way through."

Remus just shook his head. "That may be so, but I bear the brunt of the fault. I maintain that should have told you all before. Had you known, had I not been so secretive about it, perhaps we would have found another way out of the mansion. None of this should have happened."

"Is that why you told Wash?"

"...Yes," he said. Remus leaned forward, covering his face with his hands.

"Hey, we all have our secrets, okay? And you took a step forward telling Wash. You did good. You're not him," Naoya said quietly. "The one who did this to you."

Remus did not respond. Perhaps he couldn't.

They said nothing for another while, Remus getting progressively worse. Towards the end, he spent his time doubled over in pain, holding fistfuls of hair. Naoya had the impression Remus had allowed him to stay this long out of a sense of obligation more than desire. But eventually, something had to give.

"You should go now," was all Remus said when that time came. And Naoya did.

Hours passed. In the forest, the nocturnal creatures were at their prime. Glowing eyes that matched the unmoving stars flitted in and out of the branches, howling and screaming into the air. Bats circled overhead in groups of a thousand and more, pegging away only a small percentage of the insects that thrived in an untamable forest. In the trees surrounding the Windmill, there were mushrooms that gave off a faint blue glow. But there were no human eyes to behold them.

The morning was long in coming, but eventually, it did come.

Naoya lay curled in his traditional cocoon of blankets on the double bed, but his eyes were open and he watched the sunlight turn from soft purple, to pink, and then to what could barely be described as a yellow. There hadn't been any sound from downstairs for some time.

When full golden light once again streamed through the stained glass windows, Naoya dared to get up. He stretched, craning his neck as he did and glancing upwards to observe the immobile gears of the mechanism that once turned the blades outside. They were covered in years of dust, and he would not have been surprised to hear horror stories of the spiders that lived high up.

The floor groaned just a bit as he stepped onto the old boards. The room was circular like the rest of the Windmill, and there wasn't much room to distribute personal belongings. Nor amenities it seemed, because the claw-footed tub and a bucket for water were just a few feet beside the bed, separated by a delicate, woven barrier in a frame. Across from that, a small dresser and a stand with a mirror. The only signs of recent use were a few small strands of brown hair on the pillows and the traffic patterns in the dust from both him and Mabel.

Naoya went to the door. It was painted a pallid yellow, and around the edges the paint was cracking from natural aging and use. A cautious hand hovered over the handle and he thought he could detect the residual flicker of magic like the last drips of snow in spring. But with the rising sun, time had worn away the charms set upon them and the door opened freely when prodded.

Curiously, Naoya took his first step down the staircase. He trode lightly, only a couple steps creaking under him. With the curtains still drawn the room was left in a half-glow from the stained glass forming muted copies of themselves across the floor. But the fire was still lit, albeit very low. Probably enchanted. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Naoya looked around the room and followed the faint tugging on his senses.

Remus was motionless and he lay face down on the floor in a pool of dried blood. Just one of many, by the look of it-there were splotches of browning red across the wooden floor, and the furniture bore wounds from tooth and claw. But the damage to the room was nothing like the damage done to the body, and Naoya's eyes searched up and down the scored flesh and winced.

The last time he had seen someone that messed up, he had been the cause of it. Naoya quickly shook his head, trying to shake away and stave off that memory.

Each one of the stairs creaked now as Naoya ran upstairs, sliding the blanket from the bed and dragging it back downstairs. With some clever work of his psi, Naoya had light pouring in from the windows as the curtains peeled back of their own accord. He set the blanket aside as he knelt next to Remus, wiggling his fingers as he eyed some of the more nasty-looking wounds. The air began to ripple and distort around his fingers, glowing softly with lights like small stars. Though Remus might have forbade Anders from doing anything, he had given Naoya no such orders. He just hoped he wouldn't awake before he was finished. He pressed his hands gingerly over the deeper gashes - the angry red fading away to a dull pink as open wounds healed to scarred flesh. Satisfied with his work, and certain that he had left enough cuts so that Remus wouldn't suspect any help had been given, Naoya wiped his forehead and then tossed the blanket over him.

It was not long after that when Remus opened his eyes. Pulled by the pounding of his head, the aching of his bones, and the more acute, raw anger of his wounds, Remus would rise and fall on waves of awareness for most of the morning. His eyes shone as if with fever, and he blinked to clear his vision. Even now, his exhaustion pulled at him, tempting him back into the abyss. He doubted that he would be awake very long. He tried to shift, feeling the weight of a blanket on top of him and scratchy fabric below. He took in a sharp breath.

"Hi," came a voice from his left. Naoya, waving his fingers in feminine fashion.

Remus blinked again, and the circles under his eyes were very dark. Licking his lips, Remus tried to take in his surroundings. The blanket was not familiar, and it smelled of dust. And under his head, a soft cushion that smelled faintly of dust and home. His coat? The sun spilled softly through the stained glass windows behind his head, and there was a colorful patchwork crossing the stitching of the quilt.

"How did...?" Remus' voice was coarse.

Naoya shrugged innocently. "The less you know the better. You okay?"

Under the blanket, Remus shifted. He took mental stock as his body gave a quick shudder. "...'m cold."

Naoya strode to the fireplace and tended to the fire. He came back with a small grin and a cheeky glint to his eyes. "You know, most people go to jail for being naked in front of someone under eighteen."

Remus was suddenly aware of exactly how much contact the scratchy fabric had with his skin. He clutched the blanket tighter, but his fingers went limp. Suddenly quite dizzy, Remus let out a low, rattling breath that ended in what sounded like half a chuckle. "Ah, shit," he breathed, the ghost of a smile on his lips before he passed out once again.

"What are you doing?"

Naoya glanced to the couch to find Remus awake again. There were rings of deep purple under his eyes as he watched Naoya, who waited for the book to finish levitating and carefully balanced on top of the others before answering.

"Being bored."

"Mmh," he heard Remus reply. He sounded more like himself now that he had rested some. "You might try reading one of those."

"Oh, I would. I just wish I could read whatever language this was. Or that one. Or, any of these."

Remus let out a dry laugh. "And so you built a tower?"

Naoya looked away to admire his book-castle. The Windmill may have been a good shelter for werewolves, but it certainly held no regard for teenage psychics. The night may have been long for Remus, but it was even longer for Naoya. "Yeah, just don't tell Sokka. He might be upset that I'm 'abusing books'."

Remus closed his eyes as another wave of tiredness fought him. He was very still in it's wake. "Right now, I'm not doing much of anything. Is that what you did all night long? You didn't sleep?"

It was sort of impossible to sleep when there's a big wolf growling at the door whenever it caught his scent. Naoya bit his tongue on that thought, though. "I had a wild party. Got a massive headache, though. Must have drunk too much moonshine."

"Clever. Is that all? What about the jitters, the sleeplessness?"

"I thought you could be right for a little while. But when I heard you change, and I didn't, I got to thinking about it. I was smoking maybe half a pack a day, and Wash made me quit cold turkey as soon as I got here. I think it's just starting to go away. Still want a smoke really bad, though."

Remus swallowed, his throat exceedingly dry. "So-nothing?"

"So, nothing," Naoya nodded. He had to let out a steadying breath as Remus' relief hit his empathic senses like a tide. "Hmph. Told you so."

"And I am very glad to be wrong," the werewolf replied quietly. He closed his eyes again and Naoya thought he might fall back to sleep. But he suddenly asked, "What time is it?"

"Uh," Naoya grabbed his phone out of his pocket, flipping the screen open. "It's one thirty."

Remus groaned. "Half one? Ah, slept too long," he muttered, pushing himself up. The dark rings were now lined by red, and Naoya raised his brow.

"We can stay," he offered. "There's forks you forgot to put away in the drawer over there. I can make a tower out of those next."

"Not necessary." Remus rubbed his eyes, pushing the blanket off of him and revealing his bare chest. It was a patchwork of scars, the old meeting the fresh. He looked himself up and down, turning a shade darker. He'd forgotten about that. "Though I might need clothes," he said uncomfortably.

"Only might?" Naoya joked. He stretched as he finally got up off of the floor in what felt like eons. "Where are they?"

Remus pointed to one of the hanging cabinets, and Naoya fetched his things. He remained upstairs playing exhaustively with the teeth of a comb against his thumb while he waited for Remus to dress.

"You have been very patient with me," Remus told him once he was allowed back downstairs. "Thank you."

Naoya blinked, and then responded only with a soft smile. "Let's go-"

That was when they heard a terrible scratching coming from the front door. A thud, a crack, and a great heaving as the wooden door rattled on it's hinges. Under the foot of the door, flashes of yellow light from one of the enchantments streaked across the floor. Remus and Naoya exchanged looks.

"What is-" Remus started, but Naoya was already at the door, the smile he had moments before gone as he reached for the handle.

Fiddling with the handle, he yanked it open and sunlight assaulted the interior of their shelter - a large, reddish form blurring by as it barged inside. Claws turning hard on the wood floor, Nadine whirled around, alternating between baying and frantic hissing, going back and forth between Remus and Naoya. On her shoulder, her auburn fur was deep red with blood.