A/N: This fic was written for the rtchallenge on LJ for the song prompt "I Think It's Going to Rain Today" by Katie Melua. The image I got for this prompt (which I've had in my head ever since I first heard this song) is of Remus sitting in the Shrieking Shack at night, alone, angsting about Tonks. I originally pictured HBP but after DH, I found a better scenario. This fic is a bit of an experiment really, slightly stylistic and probably confusing, but it's supposed to be a representation of the (dodgy) state of Remus' mind and the perils of listening to that dangerous little voice at the back of our heads that always tells us we aren't good enough. I hope this makes sense!

Still Waters by Jess Pallas

What have I done?

The Shrieking Shack. It's the only place I had left to go to, (the only place you still belong) the only place I could face, (the only place you deserve), boarded windows, broken furniture (destroyed by you, all destroyed, that's all you do, you destroy) and glimpses of grey clouds and a cold half moon hanging through shattered window slats. I think it's going to rain. How appropriate.

What have I done?

Too much. Not enough.

What's the matter with me? Can I not be happy? (You don't deserve it) Can I not do anything right? (How can you, you're darkness, all darkness). I try to protect the people I love, I try to help and all I ever do is cause them pain. So much pain.

They'd be better off without me. All of them. Without me in their lives, tainting their lives, it would all have been so much better.

Suspicion of me (of your darkness, how can blame them for that?) – that destroyed my first true friends, for in suspecting me they did not look to another. My stupid thoughtlessness cost Sirius his freedom, gave Wormtail his and returned to Lord Voldemort the servant who gave him the means to rise again and plunge us all into cold and brutal darkness. (so many lives lost, all down to you, Sirius, Alastor, Albus, oh god…) My selfish fear of losing a friend by confrontation, of holding Sirius back from a foolish dash to the Ministry cost him his life. My powerlessness in the face of Greyback's appealing brutality saw children slaughtered.

And then… And now…

Harry.

I hexed Harry. Sweet Merlin, what was I doing? (darkness waiting, always darkness, you will always destroy and you know it). I only wanted to help, I only wanted to act, to protect, to fight the darkness at the side of my old students, alongside the son of an old, dear friend and instead I bickered, yelled and lashed out at him for seeing the truth I couldn't bring myself to face. He saw through me in a way that even I had not, he plunged straight to the heart of me and saw that I was hiding, I was running, running from family (don't deserve one), from love (how can you deserve it?), from her…

Dora.

(do not think of her, do not remember her touch, her smile, her laughter, the way she made you feel when she stroked your skin, kissed you, held you, made love with you, the warmth, the glory, the passion, the colour, wonderful, beautiful girl…)

What have I done? What have I done to her?

I've ruined her life.

I was selfish to ever let myself get involved. But she was so warm, so funny, so wonderful and she cared for me too, dear Gods, she told me that she loved me (how could she, she's so young, so lovely, it was infatuation, delusion, nothing more and you took advantage of that) and I couldn't believe it, I let myself go, I let her into my heart, my mind, my soul until I wasn't whole without her (selfish, selfish, selfish) and it felt like a gaping wound when I was forced to cast her away. I should never have let her come so close. I should never have let her care. I should have turned away at the very start, discouraged her affections, allowed her to move on and find a young, handsome, whole man who could give her the world and more.

For I can give her nothing. Nothing but pain.

A year of pain. I suffered without her but pain was nothing new to me. But to see her, limp haired, pale, thin and to know I had done that, that I had plunged her into misery just as the Dementors spread like a mist across the land and sealed her misery inescapably. Perhaps without daily Dementor attacks to repel, she would have recovered, moved on, moved away from me (she still can, she still can…). But instead, a night of tragedy (a little more love in the world, how could you have let yourself believe that could mean you, that you could deserve that after all that you've done?), a moment of weakness… I went to her. My defences crumbled, I gave her everything, heart, body and soul and oh Merlin, it was glorious, it was all I'd ever wanted (selfish beast, selfish animal, using her to ease your pain), the beauty of human love, of human affection, human kindness (not for your kind, not for you). And then…

Marry me. She said yes.

(as you knew she would, selfish, selfish, look what you've done to her)

I love her more than anything else in the world. How could I be so stupid?

With two words, I condemned her.

Condemned her to the blood-rage of her lunatic Aunt. Condemned her to be forced out of the job she adored for consorting with Dark Creatures in a time of war. Condemned her to flee at the arrival of a Minister who should have sung her praises. Condemned her to face ignominy, insults, insinuations, condemned her to face my life, my curse, as surely as if I had pounced her at full moon and sunk my teeth into her flesh.

And now…

A child.

(werewolf spawn, howling in the womb…)

What have I done? To her? To my baby?

Though I do not know the truth of them, there are tales from distant lands of werewolves born not made, of mothers torn apart by a child transforming in the womb and I know (you're not sure), I know (but you wonder), I know that it's ridiculous. But what if the child is born with my curse? Have I condemned an innocent life to such misery as I would not wish upon my greatest enemy? Have I given my child a life of pain ruled by the cycle of the moon, of hiding away from other children for fear of being discovered, of facing their terror and the wrath of their parents when it is? Have I condemned its mother to the hollow eyed misery my mother tried to hide after every childhood full moon, to mopping up blood from a cellar floor, to facing those raging parents with all the fortitude that she should not have to muster?

My parents did so. They were so brave.

And I…

Coward. Harry's word. He was right.

I can beat myself up from now until kingdom come. But it doesn't change a damned thing. It's all done.

(you are darkness, you destroy, you need to hide from the colour and the light, you cannot think that you can help them now)

For if we lose this battle, as it starts to seem we must, what will become of them without me? The wife and child of a werewolf? What will they face? Will they be able to hide without me, pretend I never existed? Will Bellatrix want them severed from her family tree any less because I am not there? Will life for them be any easier now without me, if they deny me, if my son never knows my name?

(but he will, you know he will, she will stand tall and proud and tell it so and then they both shall die)

And I've left them. Unprotected. Condemned them again.

If our child is a werewolf, can I really leave Dora to face that alone? To deal with by herself what my parents managed only by clinging to the love of each other?

And if it isn't – what does it change?

(selfish, selfish, selfish, stay away, stay away)

I hexed Harry. Why?

Because I knew he was right. (he's a boy, what does he know, how can he understand?) And I didn't want to hear it.

I've done all these things, these terrible things already. I can't take them back.

(selfish thoughts, you're thinking selfish thoughts, you're thinking of her, of being with her, not of what's best, of what's right. Darkness, you are darkness, you will only destroy)

I love her so very much. I know I will love my child as well

(don't deserve love, don't deserve love)

Perhaps I don't deserve love. But I have it anyway. And what good will it do to walk away?

No good. Only harm, in the end.

(darkness, darkness, darkness)

She is light. She is my future. She is everything.

I've done nothing to deserve this. But I have it nonetheless. And I have responsibilities to face.

Harry's right. How can I have ever thought it was right to walk away?

What have I done?

(the wrong thing. Always wrong)

I have to put it right.

(or make it worse)

But either way. It's the right thing to do.

The Shrieking Shack is not my place. It's my past.

And she is my future.

Remus, it's time to go home.