A/N: Decided I'm sick of this entire episode and just want it to be done with. This one was just as hard to write as Chapter 32. It took me like 2 weeks to write this the first time and then I rewrote it another several times. UGH.

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Chapter 34: Of the Battle's Remains

Remus stared up at the ceiling. Yellow morning played across its smooth surface. He knew it wasn't the ceiling of the Gryffindor boys' dorm. The walls were very solid, his limbs very heavy. Even the sunlight that splashed across the walls seemed to hold weight in comparison to the effervescent air of his dream. There was pain in his skin, a restriction of his form. His limbs ached from one joint to the next.

He sat up quickly, lungs searing. The space next to him was empty. This wasn't his apartment. This wasn't his bed.

Rowan.

He threw the covers off in a swift flick and leapt from the bed. The wooden floor was shockingly cold for the late summer morning, and the space around him vibrated with painful silence. The soles of his feet seemed to crack against the cold as he stumbled around the room in his panic.

"Rowan!" he called out. He flinched at the sound of his own voice. It felt very foreign, almost alien – unwelcome.

But she wasn't there. Every piece of the room spoke of her with sprawling books and papers lying about. Her clothes from the night before were scattered around the floor, and her scent lingered, but it felt like a phantom of her. His eyes fell upon her wand, which lay listlessly on the floor.

A frigid chill shot up his spine.

He was pulling his pants on before he could stop himself, arms and legs jerking wildly through what seemed like a labyrinth of cloth. He had to find her. How could she have left by herself? She couldn't be out there alone without him. How the hell could she have left her wand behind? He needed to be there! What if Death Eaters were around looking for them? What if they found her?

But as he stumbled towards the door and his shoes, he heard the sound of shifting from behind him. He spun around and saw a dark mass of hair peeking up beside the bed from the floor. Relief and confusion washed over him with a forceful wave. He felt his legs sweeping towards her rapidly and loudly.

She was in his arms, mouth pressing against her cheeks and sleep-filled eyes. She was so warm.

"Thank god," he breathed. "Oh, thank god."

Rowan had woken with a jolt at dawn, heart pounding painfully in her chest and adrenaline searing through her blood. Her limbs felt so heavy, so tired, but she couldn't lie still. Remus' arms still held her.

It was suffocating. Her face and neck were covered in a sticky film of sweat and fear, which stuck to both of their skin and the covers. She wanted to peel her flesh away, burn off all of her hair as it clung to her skin like sucking leeches. Her hands were tangled in it. She screamed out in frustration as she flailed and kicked, not caring if Remus woke up as well. She almost wanted him to. Her muscles screamed with the need to tear and break.

She couldn't breathe. His arms were so much heavier than hers. Her muscles ached and screamed as she pried his hands off of her, and by the time she freed herself, her eyes burned with hot angry tears. She pushed herself away from him and nearly toppled off her side of the bed in her panic. She needed to get away from him; needed air; needed water. Her throat burned.

She rolled out from the covers and onto the floor with a dull thud, relishing the smoothness of the wooden boards. She curled up on the floor and released a shaky sob, breath rattling against her teeth. Her nails dug into the grooves of the wood painfully. She wanted to peel them away along with her skin. The floor beneath her dug painfully into her hips and shoulders as she lay on her side, but it was warm. The hardness of the surface was grounding, comforting almost. It fought back against her joints and bones, and she relished it. She wanted to feel her frame shatter against it.

Stretching her fingers experimentally, Rowan felt her swollen knuckles creak and crackle with palms flat on the floor. She noted that her hands were purple and yellow and red and held a strange, heavy warmth. The coolness of the wood soothed them slightly. She wanted to melt into it, feel her bones meld into the grooves and into the floors below. How beautiful it would be to become a building, a house. Would it be a happier existence?

She felt the wet splattering of blood on her shoulder and the glow of blonde hair in the moonlight and gasped raggedly. Her throat tightened as she thought of the way her knuckles had cracked against shattering bones and rough concrete. Her entire body trembled. A dark voice whispered somewhere from the recesses of her mind.

"Rowan!"

She jerked awake. When had she fallen asleep again? She felt the vibration of the floor beneath her, rattling against her bones and teeth and panicked momentarily before realizing that it was Remus.

Remus – she'd forgotten he was there. Where was she? Oh, the floor – should she get up? She should tell him she was there, that she hadn't gone out alone. He must be afraid right now, she thought vaguely. It was cruel to let him keep panicking, wasn't it? But she couldn't find her voice.

Slowly, she tested her hands against the floor and pressed her palms into it. It felt like the ground was being pushed away from her rather than her body pushing upward. Her head swam dizzily as she sat up and stumbled slightly, catching herself against the bed frame noisily. The storm of footsteps stopped and then stampeded towards her, and before she could reorient herself, she was caught in a downpour of arms.

Once again, she was being swept away by the sea. She couldn't breathe. Perhaps she had become the water. Perhaps she'd grown gills overnight and needed the water. But no, it was Remus - he was the water; always had been. She had always clung blindly for every drop of him she could hold onto, but no matter how much she held, he always slipped through her fingers. And now, here he was again, sweeping her out to sea to drown.

"Thank god. Oh, thank god," she heard him breathe into her skin. His mouth was pressing against her everywhere. She was suffocating. Her head thudded dully with pain. Her skin burned. She managed to find register on her hands and pushed firmly against him as she had with the floor.

"Remus," she gasped. She flailed and jerked, but it was as if he couldn't hear her.

"Remus!" said louder, but he continued to hold her tightly in a vice grip. Her lungs burned.

"Remus, let go!" she shouted, shoving him hard with a frustrated cry.

Finally, she was able to wrestle out of his grasp and fell away back against the bedframe with a painful thud. She scooted away from him quickly so that they sat a few feet apart. He sat on his knees, looking confused and hurt. Her face stung with a strange mixture of shame and anger, though she wasn't sure of the reasons for either.

Rowan's chest heaved as her lungs filled with cool air. The panicked suffocating feeling she'd had started to drip away slowly, and she took the time to assess the room around her. It looked exactly the same as it had before she'd left for the mission at Lestrange Manor. She'd somehow expected it to be different – she was almost disappointed that it wasn't.

Remus sat very still in front of her. His hair glowed in the yellow morning light, his scars shining white against his pale skin. He only wore his dark pants from the night before, and she suddenly felt very embarrassed, though she knew there was no reason for it. A muscle in his jaw twitched with effort, and his eyes were shining with hurt. A deep part of her ached desperately for something, but she couldn't be sure what.

They sat in silence as she caught her breath. She didn't know what to say to him, and he seemed to be as equally lost for words.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. She couldn't meet his eye. "I just… I..." she trailed off. She looked around weakly for a reason, but she could find none. Her thoughts fell away like sand as soon as she grasped them.

They sat in silence again until he shifted and moved towards her hesitantly. She could feel the weight of his hand in the air between them as he reached for her, and she flinched noticeably as he touched her. She couldn't bear to look at him, to see the hurt in his features. She wanted to scream, burn away the skin where he'd touched her. She was dirty, filthy. Weren't they all?

Murderer.

She trembled violently. Images of blonde hair and wide red mouths flashed through her mind, and her stomach was immediately in her lungs. She spun wildly to the side as the contents of her stomach threatened to rush up her throat, choking and gasping, but she forced the sickness back down. Hot shameful tears sprang to her eyes. She was disgusting – how could she do this in front of Remus? What was wrong with her?

Her diaphragm spasmed slightly as she fought for air. Perhaps she really had drowned and swallowed the sea. She saw drops falling from her cheeks onto the wooden floor. She felt the overwhelming shame overcome her as her tears splashed and bounced, and when gentle fingers began to pull her hair from her face, tying it back softly, her entire body shook and trembled. The feeling of Remus' warm hands on her back and tense neck muscles made her want to scream with self-disgust.

Murderer.

Rowan could feel the bubbling gushing of blood and saliva on her cheek as Evan Rosier smeared his wet mouth across her face. She could see the light leave Marlene McKinnon's eyes and the vibration of the ground as her body hit it. She wanted to scream, to peel her skin away and cut her hair off. She was filthy. She wanted to burn it all away.

Finally, her tears and sobs subsided, but his hands remained on her. Her body still trembled slightly, but her lungs no longer burned; her eyes were no longer blinded with tears. With a wave of her hand, the small pool of shame vanished. She rested her hands on the floor in front of her as her knees dug into the wood painfully, but she savored the ache.

"I'm fine now," she whispered.

Remus' hand stopped suddenly. The silence between them was heavy for a moment but then he moved to grip her arm, pulling her towards him. Panic seized her again and she yanked her arm away from him quickly.

"Don't," she blurted. She still couldn't look at him. She couldn't bear the thought of him touching her even more.

"Winnie, please," he whispered, fingers hovering over her with need. But she pulled away from him and moved to her feet quickly, staggering slightly under the weight of her own frame as the world shifted around her. He also stood, quickly grabbing her arms to steady her, but she once again jerked away from him.

"Don't!" she growled. Remus' face twisted with frustration.

"Winnie, just let me help you!" he protested. He held her firmly this time so that she couldn't pull away, but she yanked her arms wildly anyway.

"Leave me alone!" she cried out indignantly. She flailed and wrestled against him with grunting effort, but he held fast and strong to her wrists.

"Rowan. Stop it! Stop!" he barked, but she continued to fight him. He saw red. He shook her violently in his rage, the dark voice within him roaring deafeningly.

"I said, STOP!"

Rowan's body immediately ceased its flailing with wide, eyes. But they weren't fearful – they were angry. Her chin shot upward, eyes burning into him with barely contained fury. Remus leaned back as if afraid of her.

"Where the fuck do you get off?" she seethed. He flinched at the venomous tone of her voice. She felt vindicated by it. "You have no right to tell me what to do! None!" she shouted. "Why don't you mind your own god damn business? Leave me the fuck alone!"

His gaze darkened. Rowan noted somewhere in the recesses of her mind that she should be afraid, but she was too angry, too furious, to respond to the nagging voice. She wanted to feel breaking and tearing beneath her knuckles again. She wanted her hands to ache even more.

"You are my god damn business!" he spat. He held her wrists almost painfully tight, but she refused to budge. She held his gaze fiercely. "Everything you do is my business. I'm not going anywhere, so just shut up!"

Rowan's entire body shook with rage. "How dare you?" she shouted. She beat her fists desperately against his chest, but he held her tightly. She screamed with frustration. "You have no right! NONE! You're not my father, not my boyfriend. I don't fucking know what you are, but you have absolutely no right!"

She wanted to beat him senseless, feel the cracking of his bones against her hands. Her mind was a blank slate of rage and blind fury. Her limbs seemed to burn with fire in her blood as she screamed and flailed. She even resorted to kicking him, but he simply absorbed her blows with nothing more than a few grunts of pain. She tried to take him down to the floor with her, but he stood strong and tall. Her entire body roared with anger. She wanted him to feel it.

Her skin was suddenly burning and wet, and she realized with horror that she was crying again. Face burning with shame, her entire frame seemed to go rigid as she felt the tears trickling down her cheeks. She quickly averted her face to hide it from Remus' eyes.

But he noticed. He always noticed.

"Winnie," he breathed. He moved them to the bed and sat her down, quickly releasing her wrists, which seemed to ignite as the blood rushed back into them. His hands were suddenly on her face, cradling her cheeks gently. The dark rage was gone from his eyes, replaced with panic. Her body went limp.

"Darling, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-" he rambled fearfully, but she shook her head and pushed him away again. His eyes filled with hurt.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" she choked. His hands held hers gently. The soft touch made her skin crawl with shame.

She had just wanted to hurt him! She'd wanted to hurt him the same way she'd hurt Rosier! What was wrong with her? Hadn't she already done enough?

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I just… I need you to be safe. I-I panicked. It was selfish to force my feelings on you. I'm sorry, Winnie. Please, just-"

"You don't get it," she spat. He looked at her fearfully. A dark, shameful part of her relished it. She held his gaze with hard eyes. "This isn't about you. None of this has to fucking do with you!"

His eyes widened with hurt, but her blood boiled away any regret that formed. She would see this through. She'd make him see how ugly she was.

"I killed someone last night," she snarled. His eyes widened, grip loosening slightly on her. Her hands stung as the blood rushed through her black and blue fingers.

"I killed someone, and now you're here and I don't fucking know what the hell is going on! I can't breathe or think o-or see! I just want - I need - Why are you even here? I don't know what you fucking want from me!" she spat.

I wanted to hurt you too. Her blood felt cold.

And there she was - the husk, the end of sickness.

"There is nothing here for you to save anymore," she breathed.

The air seemed to drip away from her lungs, but she didn't need it. It seemed to leave a stream of ice in its wake. No - it had been forming for a long time. She'd finally just noticed it, like a long-hidden plague. Burning it away would be the best decision.

"You're wasting your time. You should just… leave me alone."

She pulled her hands from his grasp and turned her face away from him. Everything seemed to pull from her slowly, sucking from her veins and stomach. She wanted him gone. She wanted everyone gone. She wanted to sleep forever. The silence washed over her heavily, pulling her eyelids down with it. She was so tired, so sore. She wanted to drown in the silence.

But then he grabbed her hands again.

"W-wh-" she sputtered, but she was cut off as Remus' mouth pressed hotly to hers. Her cheeks seared red and her hands fought against him, but he held her tightly, holding her hands against his chest with fingers wrapped around her wrists. She twisted her head away, peeling her mouth from his.

"Remus, what are-" she gasped.

"You will always be worth saving," he whispered.

She froze. His mouth rested against her jaw, head pressed to her cheek. She felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, which only seemed to highlight her own ragged breathing in contrast. She wanted to pull away from him but couldn't seem to feel her arms and legs. Her ears roared deafeningly.

He pulled away slowly from her, pressing his lips against her neck, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. Her lips trembled as she felt her eyes well up hotly again, and her mind screamed insults at her for her weakness. He drew her hands up to his mouth and pressed his lips against her swollen, bruised knuckles. She trembled with humiliation.

"There is no part of you that will ever be dirty to me," he whispered against her fingers. The tears fell. "You can beat me, insult me – even hate me. I will always be here to take the blows for you or from you – whatever you desire, whatever you need. Do you understand?"

He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and her chest clenched painfully. His eyes glowed green and brown in the morning light, and his words filled her lungs slowly and fully, stretching them almost to the point of pain. Her tears were falling freely now; she couldn't stop them. His gaze seemed to pierce through her sharply. She wanted to tear her eyes from his face but couldn't find control over anything.

Hesitantly, painfully slow, Remus leaned forward. One of his hands released hers, but she couldn't pull away. It slid into her hair, grasping the nape of her neck gently, and his lips were pressing against hers again. They slid over her skin, pressed against her forehead, her cheeks. His heat was everywhere. She couldn't breathe.

"No," she gasped. "You don't-"

"But I do," he breathed. Her limbs froze, turned to stone. She felt so heavy against him. His hands gripped her tightly again. She thought his body might swallow her.

"I completely understand. I know what it's like... to be blinded, consumed by anger. I know how frightening, how horrifying it is... I know what it's like to be overwhelmed with the desire to hurt people... even those I love." Tears fell from her eyes again. Her entire body shook.

"We all have our demons. Yours have just screamed louder than most."

Her chest clenched painfully as she choked on her own breath. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, and before she could protest, he'd pulled her into his lap so that she straddled him. His hands burned up her back and held her tightly against him, cradling her small form against his chest and burying his face in her hair.

"You are not defined by the darkness inside of you, Rowan."

Rowan gasped against his skin, clinging to him desperately. His skin burned through hers, scalded her painfully. He was much too good to her, too kind. She wanted to laugh bitterly as he spoke such lovely words to her that he couldn't seem to understand for himself. It was cruel.

Her fingers dug into his skin, but he didn't pull away. She wondered vaguely if she was hurting him, but she needed to be closer, to feel all of him. She was desperate to press every inch of herself against him.

"You're so stupid," she whispered into his shoulders. She held him even more tightly, if possible. "Y-you… Why can't you see…?"

He squeezed her against him, and she felt his own chest tremble. It vibrated through her ribs and into her heart. She wondered if he could feel her heartbeat.

"I know," he whispered. "I'm trying."

She didn't know how long they stayed there or even when he moved her into the bed. She couldn't remember when she fell asleep. He was around her, above her, beneath her. She breathed him in and, for the first time in ages, slept dreamlessly. Time blurred noiselessly.

When she woke, she knew he was gone even before opening her eyes, and she cried quietly into the space he'd left in her bed, wishing to grip the scent of him in her fingers. She didn't know when or where he'd gone. She could almost believe he hadn't been there to begin with, if it weren't for the few stray gray hairs that were left on her pillows. She couldn't imagine the thoughts in his head, couldn't imagine his feelings. She hadn't felt so far away from him in ages. The dark voice in her was silent again, but it left a void so empty, so deep, that all of her thoughts seemed to echo within it endlessly.

She curled up in her sheets and willed herself back to sleep – alone – just like she had wanted. Silence had never felt like such a burden.