Notes: Man… if I'm trying to be a review-whore, I really suck at it. Ah well. ^_^ Chapter titles from an Adema song called "Pain Inside".

"So…" James wound a thin, near transparent bandage tightly around the hospital gauze he'd placed on Remus' arm. "Do you want to talk yet?" Though the two were back in the quiet dorm, he spoke normally; James had placed a quick Silencing Spell on his bed so that he and Remus could make as much noise as necessary without really waking any of the room's other occupants.

"Well…" Remus pursed his lips for a moment, lost in deep thought, before granting James a sharp nod. "I suppose." His eyes swept the length of his injured arm, absorbing, in a glance, the way his blood was already soaking through the fabric meant to blot it. "Waiting would make very little difference, anyway."

James nodded and taped the end of the bandage. "It's up to you." He turned his attention to Remus' opposite hand, beginning to treat the vicious bite-marks his friend had inflicted upon himself.

"You just… you have to understand…" Remus seemed to be wracking every corner of his mind for the right words. "It's sort of a… more personal thing. And I… well, I feel somewhat silly talking about it…"

"Why?" James asked, his eyes meeting Remus' imploringly. "I don't want to… you know… push you or anything. But I'm not exactly here to pass judgment on you."

"Are you sure?" James flashed a little half-smile.

"Of course I'm sure. I'm your friend, aren't I?"

"Yes, but…" With his free hand, Remus began to twirl a lock of hair around his fingertips. James found the innocuous nervous tic intimidating in the near-stillness of the night. "Well, sometimes people say that, but they don't mean it. And then they ask so many questions… and when you do tell them, they just stare at you and stare at you…" His eyes glassed over slightly; he had diverted his gaze to somewhere over James' right shoulder. "Like you're some sort of sideshow act… freak."

"You aren't a freak," James answered without thinking. "I mean… there's nothing wrong with you…"

"Except…" Remus sighed. "Except that I'm a werewolf."

James blushed, realizing that he'd very carefully omitted that fact. "Well, yeah. But that doesn't make you a freak. It just… " He gulped. "Makes you Remus."

"Ah," Remus stared into space and patted James absently on his thigh. "That's very sweet of you."

"But it's true," James replied doggedly. "Anyway, is that what this is about? The werewolf thing?"

"'The werewolf thing,'" Remus repeated. "I am the werewolf thing." His smile stretched suddenly from ear to ear.

"That's… um… not what I meant-," James tried to stammer an apology, but Remus cut him off.

"When I transform, all I want to do is sink my claws into something. That's my first instinct… to tear something- anything- to shreds." Remus paused momentarily, and James could see that his hands were clenched into tight fists. "But in the Shack… there isn't really much to… destroy."

"Oohhhhhhh…" James let his voice drop with a nod of understanding. "So you…?"

"Tear into what's available," A short laugh accompanied Remus' answer. "Namely, myself."

"Okay," James let out the breath that he'd found himself holding. "So why…? I mean… are you doing it during the daytime too? When the moon isn't full?"

Remus stared at James for a moment. "I don't think you quite understand." His voice hissed. "I don't become the wolf… I am the wolf. That urge to rip and bite and tear and… kill… it never goes away." He turned away from his friend, dipping his head and letting his hair fall across his line of sight like a curtain. "And the urge to cut flesh never lessens. In fact, it's gotten much, much worse." Laughter bubbled from his lips, tinged with horrified acidity. "They think that it has something to do with… with puberty, for heaven's sake!" Remus turned slightly, his eyes rimmed with panic. "What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know," James whispered. He'd never thought anything like this could be happening to his calm and collected Remus. "Is there a potion they could give you…?"

"Oh, they've tried everything!" Remus snapped. "I'm their little guinea pig for all the potions, charms, curses, cures that they can come up with!" He huffed a little. "And none of it has worked."

"I guess…" James quietly reached for Remus' hand in the near-darkness. "I guess I just never realized it bothered you so much."

For a moment, the two were still, silent with their thoughts. But, abruptly, Remus groaned and pulled his hand away. "Oh god… now you'll just worry about me all the time…"

"I'd say I have the right to worry!" James flushed with anger.

"And maybe you'll even go ahead and tell one of the adults…"

"When a person makes a giant cut down one of their arms, I'd say it was a good time to worry!" James continued, annoyed at the way Remus seemed to be ignoring him. But the other boy stopped when he heard this statement, shifting his body in thought.

"I didn't mean to make it that deep," When he finally spoke again, his voice was small and meek. "I meant it when I said it was an accident. The blade slipped; it went deeper than I thought it would." He sighed. "I wouldn't have panicked like that if it hadn't been an accident. Really."

"No, it wasn't an accident." James said stubbornly. "You still meant to… you know… cut yourself."

"Yeeee-eeees," Remus furrowed his brow in frustration. "But I hadn't meant to cut so deep and so long…"

"But it still wasn't an accident…"

"What do you want to be when you grow up, James?"

"Huh?" James was caught off guard by the seemingly irrelevant inquiry. "I dunno… An Auror, maybe. Or something to do with dragons and things. Why?" He stared suspiciously at Remus. "What do you want to be?"

"I don't know." Remus stated simply. "I don't really plan on living past the age of twenty."

The silence between them was thick and foreboding as James turned this thought over in his head. "I didn't know…" He spoke slowly, as if talking to a small child. "I didn't know that werewolves typically died so young."

"Oh, they don't," Remus' tone was airy. "I just don't think I'm much good for anything. So, I plan to… um…" He blushed and examined his nails intently while he tried to think of a tactful way to say what was on his mind. "To… you know… make the cuts… deeper."

James stared blankly for a moment, causing Remus to fidget. "Um… Are you…? Um…"

Suddenly James' hand flashed through the air, his cupped palm connecting with Remus' cheek. The blow resulted in a loud 'crack' of flesh striking flesh; Remus fell to one side, his hand clutched desperately against his sore and reddening cheek.

"How dare you?" James rocked back on his heels, various emotions of anger, guilt, and fear clouding his judgment. "I thought you weren't trying to die! You lied! You're a liar! You're a liar and… and a damn selfish bastard!" When Remus didn't respond, he found himself getting angrier. "Well? What do you think of that? You have people who care about you, and you think you can just throw it all away?"

"I thought I'd be doing everyone a… a favor." Remus mumbled, his words obscured by the hand he'd placed over his mouth.

"That's stupid." James said petulantly, narrowing his eyes. "You're smarter than any of us, Remus. How could you think something so stupid?"

"Because," His words were soft and barely audible. "Because it's not right… I didn't think…"

"That's right!" James seized the thought immediately. "You didn't think! If you had, you would have realized-"

"But I did think!" Remus wailed, interrupting James' rant. "I did, I did! I've been planning this since I was ten years old, James!" He sobbed once without tears, savagely punching one hand into a nearby pillow. "Because it's not fair! It's not right! Why was it me, James? Why do I have to suffer through being poked and prodded and branded by you… you fucking wizard Nazis!"

James couldn't say anything for a moment, surprised by the ferocity in Remus' voice. Then he stretched his arms out to his friend and pulled him into an unwanted embrace; Remus struggled a moment, but found he could not get free. Finally, he sighed, his breath shaking with effort, and relaxed in James' lap.

The two were sitting, entwined, when Remus felt the tickle of unfamiliar pressure and wetness on his brow. He remembered the feeling from when he was young, before he was bitten. Back in a time when his parents weren't afraid to touch him and feel love for him.

James had placed a sweet, quick kiss on Remus' temple, leaving an oval of shining saliva behind as a memento.