Warnings: Suicidal, mentally unstable werewolf..

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is life, but it's not mine

Remus curled in on himself, his forehead resting against his knees, and sobbed uncontrollably; tremors racked through his lithe body like electricity. The side of his ashen face was pressed against the dusty floorboards that were stained deep purple from years of torture inflicted by the wolf.

But Remus still had five days before that horror was released... it was soon, but not soon enough for the lycanthrope.

The wolf would surely kill him given its chance, after all that has happened. The loss of its pack; its mate. But why does it have to be Moony that has to end it all?

Why couldn't Remus to do it instead?

Moony had controlled Remus's life for so long. Too long...

But not this time. This time Remus would do it. He would take control of his own life and stop the wolf from ever doing anything to him or anyone else again...

He stared blankly ahead. He had not had thoughts like these since his school days, back when he would venture to the Shack -not in his right mind- when things got too much for him, when he needed release from the world. This time though, his friends would not appear to help him; to stop him; to save him...

Sirius could no longer save him...

A figure emerged in the room silently and stood in the doorway as he watched the scene before him. He was tall, with locks of shoulder length ebony hair that were cascading down his face as he watched his friend in worry (and very uncharacteristic patience). His friend -currently positioned at the centre of the room- was slightly shorter (although he looked due for his growth spurt pretty soon) and was considerably paler than the former. His golden brown hair that was flecked with premature greyness, despite his youth, was ruffled and knotted. Objects flew around his head as the furniture around him seemed to shatter and break under his piercing glare. Wandless magic. During his destruction, he stood rooted on the spot, shaking in a fit of rage, which was uncommon for the younger Remus.

Breathing deeply and ruggedly, he turned to the figure in the doorway -Sirius- and stared at him frustratingly before asking in forced calmness, although his voice shook considerably,

'Why do we live, Sirius?' the black haired boy winced at the tone in which Remus had addressed him. His usually calm, tranquil Remus had gone, replaced by something else. Not quite human, albeit not quite wolf. 'Why am I alive, Sirius? I don't want to be alive! All they do is gradually bite away bits of my life; all they do is slowly torture me into madness, making me think, over and over again, that I'll be able to have a chance at a normal life... But they're all liars!'

His voice cracked and all decency to keep his voice down were lost. He shouted, 'Why do they keep me here, Padfoot? The world takes pleasure from my misery! I am not living, I am existing! I have no future! That has been taken away from me! I have no purpose here and I just want it to stop!' Tears were brimming in his eyes, making them shine like emeralds, despite the lack of light present in the room.

Cautiously, Sirius stepped forward and held Remus's bloodied wrists in his hands, rubbing the torn flesh with his thumbs soothingly. He gazed into those flaming green eyes, as he answered softly and consolingly,

'You survive to beat all the odds, Moony. You live to show the world that you can beat it-' He was cut off abruptly as Remus flinched away from his grip and faced the ground, digging his fists into his brown hair, grasping and yanking chunks out in frustration. He had heard that response before many many times. He did not believe it the first time and he did not believe it now. He shook his head viciously, franticly repeating 'No, no, no, no!'.

Sirius, finding the sight of Remus -his Remus- trying to further injure himself unbearable, urgently prised Remus's hands away from his head, which were still clutching small chunks of hair, and took his chin with his hand, forcing Remus to look up at him. Sirius used his free hand to caress Remus's cheek, soothingly, before kissing him gently on the lips. Remus's eyes fluttered at the touch and whimpered slightly when Sirius pulled away to whisper,

'Moony, by being alive you keep me alive, and always will. You were the only thing that has ever kept me going when life got so shit, with home and everything. I didn't want to carry on then, but I did. I lived for you, Remus... can -I know this is asking a lot of you and it isn't my place, I'm sorry- but could you stop all this, and c-could you live... for me? Together.'

The objects flying around Remus's head came clattering down to the floor as he wrapped his arms around Sirius's neck and sobbed uncontrollably into his warm, furiously beating chest.

'I don't think I can do this anymore, Pads...' He moaned as Sirius stroked his now uneven, lumpy hair.

'You can do it, Remus. I believe you can; you're stronger than all of us Marauders put together.' He kissed the werewolf's forehead.'And I promise, no matter what, I'll always be here for you.'

Remus' pupils dilated into slits so small they were almost undistinguishable. He stared, transfixed, at the shiny object at the centre of his vision. It was a mirror, well a broken mirror. One shard was all that remained -it was about the size of a large blade- and stood out against its brown backboard. The rest of the mirror was no where to be seen, it was most likely Prongs that took it upon himself to move any of the other dangerous pieces left after Moony had probably smashed it during a transformation.

Remus stood, eyes never leaving the sparkling shard as he stumbled towards it, yanking it away from its frame with ease.

He twirled the shard, absent-mindedly in his hands with familiarity to what he was about to do. Stopping him however, was a transparent hand forming in front of him.

Was he hallucinating?

The hand grasped his wrist, and rubbed circles with its long thumb; tracing the silver scars that had not been made by the wolf. Remus let out a shaky breath and looked up into the stormy grey eyes of his former lover.

Sirius had a calm demeanour, only his eyes betrayed him as the stormy grey swirled in aggravation, yet concern at the same time. His expression looked mature -an unusual look for him- but it suited him none the less, and perhaps made him look slightly older. Remus stared back at Sirius stoically, for once uncaring.

Sirius was not going to get in the way. Not this time.

'Remus, think about what you're doing. You can't do this, not again.' His voice was raspy from misuse, but was otherwise clear as day. The sound rang in Remus's ears.

'Why not?' He challenged. Sirius sighed.

'You don't want to do this, we both know that. You promised me you wouldn't do this again, Moony.' He tightened his hold on Remus's wrist but the latter pulled his arm free, forcefully. Sirius was now fully opaque, unlike before, as if he was really here with him, but Remus knew better.

'Don't call me that. You're not here, Sirius. You don't care. You never did... just leave me alone!' He squeezed his eyes closed.

He can not see him. Sirius is not there. He can not see him. Sirius is not there...

But he was seeing him. Sirius was there. Sirius had touched him. And it had felt real.

'I do care Moony, more than you'll ever know...'

'I said: LEAVE ME ALONE!' Remus roared. He opened his eyes to see Sirius, still there, but his lips were sealed in defeat as he grudgingly backed away out of arms reach. Remus could not bring himself to care about Sirius's presence as long as he kept his mouth shut. Anyway, thinking about it, Remus wanted Sirius to see this. He wanted Sirius to see what he had done.

He sneered (an expression which did not belong on his face) and whispered in a gruff voice, 'I can't do this again? Eh? You'll always be there to help, Pads? Defeat the odds and all that shit? Well it's too late Padfoot; what are you going to do? You defeated the odds the day you took away everyone I ever loved... this is your fault. You did this.' He rolled up the sleeves of his robes to his elbows and took a deep, shaky breath and focused on his target.

Never looking up at the man he had never stopped loving, he muttered, 'Good bye Sirius.' Sirius rushed forward, arms outstretched but it was too late. Sirius could only watch in horror as Remus had brought the jagged shard down and sliced open his right wrist. The lycanthrope went numb; only a slight prickling feeling could be felt as blood oozed from the wound at an alarmingly unnatural rate, but for Remus, the pain was not satisfying enough. He growled, placing the mirror in his other hand, and exposed his other forearm.

He struck again, this time his left arm. He pierced the skin at the carpal tunnel (Specks of blood already forming at the top) and dug it through his vein, pulling the stained shard of mirror out at the inside of his elbow. Blood trickled out of the frightfully deep wound and he sighed in relief.

He had felt this one. This one had hurt.

It felt good, he thought.

He threw his head back and groaned as he collapsed to his knees. Distantly, he could hear a choked sob coming from a now transparent Sirius, who had began to dissolve into nothing. Blood poured out of his wounds, Crimson pools stained the wooden floor like a waterfall of scarlet. It was positively beautiful to Remus as he watched everything pour out of him. The sight of his blood, staining his flesh from ivory to scarlet, was bliss. Despite this sentimental peace, Remus began to feel dizzy. He had lost more blood than he had most of his transformations, save one: the unspeakable one.

He felt light-headed and his vision began to go blurry, objects dancing around the air blending into one another; a collage of colours and tones. Knowing what was coming next, he smiled peacefully, and closed his eyes. He spread his bloody arms in welcome; greeting death with open arms. Now was the moment. Now, he would be free of this cruel world, free from all its pain and anguish, free from Sirius...

CRACK.

Remus's eyes shot open. No! This can not be happening. This was not supposed to happen!

No!

He wanted to move, but his starved limbs prevented him from doing so. He could only stare sadly up at the sea of purple material that swam before his eyes.

The purple robes of his so called saviour was the last thing he saw before blackness emerged and engulfed him whole...

'AARRRRGGGHHH!'

A tenor scream joined the harmony of wailing shrieks made by the other prisoners as Sirius Black awoke shaking, from a nightmare that appeared to be only too real. This one was not a memory, or a regretful action on his behalf that had caused Sirius, and others that he loved more than anything else, pain. No. This one definitely felt real. One word, one thought came to his mind.

Remus.

Was Remus was okay? If his nightmare was indeed as real as he dared to believe, then Remus would surely be...

No.

Sirius would not accept it. Remus would never do that. Not again. He wouldn't.

A dementor passed his cell, absorbing what little warmth Sirius had and forcing its prisoner to recollect his disturbing dream.

Sirius felt the frail, too-thin wrist beneath his palm. The wrist that had shook weakly as the pressure placed upon it increased, pleading him to think about what he was doing.

The Dementor, sensing Sirius's displeasure, hungered for more and placed its scabbed hands on the bars of his cell. It devoured on his emotion, feasting on Sirius's hopelessness and worry for his lover.

Sirius cried out.

Visions of a reflected blade, which drove through pale forearms. Remus's forearms. It was done with practiced ease, driven by such anger and determination that it would be on sheer luck alone which would cause the owner to survive its force.

'Remus would never do that...' Sirius mumbled, tears streaming down his face as he grasped his head in his hands, as if trying to push the recollection away. It did not.

Blood... so much blood, turning ivory flesh scarlet.

Sirius vomited on the cold floor, still clutching his head. Remus was the smart one. The logical one. Remus was always stronger, he would never. His visions intensified and he screamed out once more.

His eyes. His beautiful emerald eyes, closing in pleasure as the blood meandered down his arms and onto his patched robes.

'Stop it. Stop it. Stop it! Stop it! STOP IT!' Sirius pleaded as the Dementor squeezed its head through the bars of the cell to divulge further on the convicts misery.

He smiled then, welcoming it. Wanting to be embraced by the cold arms of death itself. His smile also looked triumphant, albeit slightly deranged as his previous, final words still hung in the air.

'Please...' he pleaded through sobs.

'Good bye Sirius...'

'NO!'

He was light-headed as a familiar sensation swam through him. Sirius opened his eyes -not knowing when he had closed them- to see black fur around his vision. He looked at his supposed hands to find paws in their place. All that anger and all that longing of hope, exploded into the one thing that might possibly save him in this hell-hole...

Padfoot.

At this new discovery, Sirius realised that the dementor had lost interest and had glided away. Relieved, Padfoot trotted hastily to the corner of his cell and curled up on himself, sneezing in little doggy cries.

"Please let it just be a dream. Please let it just be a dream. I cant loose him too..." He repeated in his head. Whimpering, Padfoot squeezed his eyes shut.

"I can't loose you as well, Moony..."

Remus awoke slowly; the smell of disinfectant filled his nose, causing him to cough abruptly. That proved to be a bad idea as his muscles, bones, organs -basically everything in general- hurt everywhere.

He opened his eyes to find a blinding light at the centre of his vision. Remus screwed up his eyes, adjusting to the light and turned his head to the side. He caught a shadow in the chair opposite him, grey eyes staring at him behind curtains of beautiful ebony hair. Remus shook his head, pulling a strained muscle in his neck. He ironically howled quietly and looked back to find the chair unoccupied.

"You're loosing your nut, Lupin." Twitching the corners of his mouth upwards in a relieved, but amused smile as he looked around the rest of his room.

He was in the Hospital wing at Hogwarts, he knew that much. He could distinguish the smell anywhere. The question is: why was he at...

Oh...

Oh dear...

In realisation, Remus's eyes dropped down to his right arm which was thickly bandaged, and then to his left, which was also covered in thick bandages from his palm to half way up his upper arm.

'Oh Merlin's fucking balls...' He muttered as he heard heels against the tiled floor and the curtains around his bed being opened.

'Glad to see you're awake Mr Lupin, but I must refrain from allowing you to use such colourful language when the ears of the other students occupying this Hospital Wing are within proximity.' Remus looked up from his arms and into the gaze of disapproval that Madam Pomfrey gave.

His eyes lowered downwards like a scolded child after her next words, 'I am very disappointed in you Remus...' They were not told with malice or accusation, but she sounded forlorn and downcast. Remus had never felt so low (well, not quite) and closed his eyes in guilt.

Two new sets of footsteps could be heard from the distance, making their way over to his bed.

'Good morning, Remus.' The werewolf looked up from the green eyes of Professor McGonagall, to the blue twinkling ones of Albus Dumbledore, who had spoken.

'Good Morning professors.' He looked down again, he could not meet any of their eyes, filled with pity and such disappointment. McGonagall placed a shaking hand on his shoulder in comfort, the only other time she had displayed any sort of emotion or affection towards a student (or former student) that Remus knew of, was after the unspeakable incident back in sixth year.

'How are you feeling, Remus.' she spoke softly (disregarding her usual strict demeanour).

Remus sat up properly in his bed in a more comfortable position. He shrugged in response to the Transfiguration teacher's question, who sighed and continued, 'Why would you, Remus? After everything...' Dumbledore silenced her with a twinkling glance and spoke,

'Sometimes Minerva, even the strongest people we know loose control at some point. Remus, as you are aware, has been through a lot; it is understandable that his emotion got the better of him this time...'

'But Albus, we worked so hard these past ten years, countless sessions to stop this kind of behaviour.' McGonagall interrupted in a loud whisper. 'Mr Lupin has worked too hard repressing the wolf that he simply can not throw it all away again because of this. We worked so hard and now the wolf is doing it ag-'

'It's not the wolf, Professor.' The voice was quiet yet distinguishable and McGonagall instantly stopped to look at Remus.

'Mr Lupin?'

'It was never the wolf that wanted this, Professor. I wanted this. This all has to end, I can't do this. I have tried so hard for nothing, I don't want to do this anymore.' He said his words truthfully, making his former head of house's eyes widen. For the first time she was lost for words. Pomfrey also looked taken aback by the comment. 'The wolf does not control me; I hope I proved that to you.' He turned away from them in discontent. He didn't need their pity.

'Poppy, Minerva, would you mind leaving us for a moment?' Dumbledore asked, politely. The matron huffed (making sure to roll her eyes not discreetly) but nodded, while McGonagall's lip thinned as she reluctantly muttered a 'this will not be over yet.' and strode out.

Dumbledore and Remus met each other's gaze. The former resting down on the end of the bed, regarding Remus in interest; as though he were something to be studied.

'I'm sorry, Remus. I should have kept more of an eye on you after what happened. The loss of course, for you, was tragic and no one should have to deal with this kind of thing alone. I'm sorry that you had to go to measures this extreme for us to realize that you needed more help.' Remus looked at Dumbledore as if he had a florescent pink and green hat on and spoke bitterly,

'Excuse me, Sir, but I don't need nor want your help. I simply want it to end. Your "help" is the reason I'm still here, and for what? So I'll live my miserable, lonely life constantly looking over my shoulder for racist bastards who want someone to play with, or simply hurt or belittle; so I can spend my life existing -because I most certainly will not be living- in the lowest of area's, and (if I'm lucky) work in a job that pays minimum to the werewolf who got "Outstanding" in all of his NEWT's...

'To spend my life in solitude; alone in this cruel fucking world,' then, for good measure, he added in a staged voice that sounded like his former Defence against the Dart Arts professor, '"No one wants to be friends with a monster, they'll drag you down with them, like that half-breeds they are."'

Dumbledore was still watching him, intently. Remus fixed his shining emerald eyes on those blue twinkling ones, and finished slightly calmer, yet a hint of bitterness was still clearly visible in his voice, 'I tried so hard to do my best. Unfortunately though Professor, my best will never be good enough because, you see, Life is a heartless bitch that couldn't possibly be any crueller when she laughs at our Misery. Life just points and laughs, like everyone else, at the pathetic werewolf, who struggles to find his reasons as to why he's still carrying on in his shit hole.'

Dumbledore's tranquil smile never faltered; it vexed Remus to no end as his eye twitched and a vein on his forehead throbbed. Finally, Dumbledore spoke, with more calmness than what should not have been possible, given the situation,

'Remus, you are permitted to stay at Hogwarts until such time as I dismiss you. Before then, I must request that you are not to leave his Castle.' His voice hardened suddenly, 'Am I understood?'

'Yes. Sir.' The werewolf replied through gritted teeth. It was too close to the full moon, emotions (anger being the most explicit) were running high.

'Good.' His voice returned to it's usual calm demeanour. 'Minerva will take you to where you will be staying when you are fit enough to leave the Hospital Wing and Poppy will accompany you to the Willow when it's time. Also, you are to come to my office once a day,' He held up a hand, as Remus looked all too keen to interrupt. 'I will explain the details in due course. For now, however, you are to get some rest.'

Dumbledore stood up to leave when Remus showed no signs of responding any time soon. At the door, Dumbledore paused, 'I'd just like to point out that Minerva is not too happy with you, Remus. You are warned.' Remus scoffed, as he could literally hear the headmaster's smile as he spoke those last three words, although there was no humour to them.

There was never any humour in the world anymore.

Hope that was alright. Yes, I know I was very mean with Remus but I thought that he needed to have some sort of explosion at some point, don't hate me. This was quite fun to write, actually... *Rubs palms together evilly*