Beauty and the Beast

Beauty and the Beast

*

Fear and Fury

*

As soon as Sirius woke up, he knew that his world had turned upside down. This was evident in the way he saw his best friend glaring at him beside his bed.

"Happy to see you had a good night's sleep, you fucking bastard," James snarled, glaring daggers at him. "If Remus hadn't forbidden me, I'd skin you alive and leave you to the Slytherin Common Room with a pot of salt and the note 'Use as you please.' You'd certainly deserve that."

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked. Or at least that was what he started to ask, but it all hit his mind before he finished even the word "what." "Oh, Merlin," he whispered in horror.

"Indeed," said Peter, appearing on their side. Sirius would never have thought that the small and quiet, clumsy Peter could look threatening, but now he certainly did. "I'd like to say so much, Sirius, but I think James stated it quite well. You're the worst bloody fucking bastard in this whole world! You should be thrown to the Azkaban for eternity!"

"Throw me there, then," he said, his words still barely audible. "I certainly deserve that." How could he have done that? How could he have been such a heartless, terrifying, monstrous bastard - how could he ever have hurt his precious Remie so badly?

Sirius wanted to die. He deserved to die. A rape was always a horrifying crime, yes, but raping a virgin werewolf was far, far worse. He'd read about it once Remus had told him about the mating progress. The shortest sentence set upon that crime had been seven years in Azkaban - horribly long time for a rape even in a Muggle prison, but in Azkaban, it was pure hell. And it was long - even for a murder you never got more than three years. In the worst matters, there hadn't been Azkaban at all - only a little kiss. A Dementor's Kiss.

Maybe that would be it. Maybe they'd give him the Dementor's Kiss. He certainly hoped so - if he'd been thrown in Azkaban, he'd always see Remus's eyes in front of him, glowing with fear and terror and disbelief - those beautiful, perfect amber eyes, full of tears as he tried to shove Sirius off -

He swallowed and closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands as tears began rolling down his cheeks. He'd deserve anything they'd give him. Remus had been the perfection, and he had broken that miracle. Nothing could be too bad for him.

"As much as we'd want to first beat you black and blue and then walk to turn you in," James's voice tore him off from his thoughts, "we can't, unfortunately. Remus made us promise not to hurt you - for what reason, I honestly don't know."

"But take our word for this, you bastard," Peter said, leaning closer to him, "if you ever, ever dare to hurt Remus again - if you even touch him with your fingertips without his permission - you'll be a dead man, Sirius Black."

"You're worse than anything I know," James spat. "I'd rather marry Snape and carry his child than ever talk to you again!"

Then they turned away from him, both shooting the last murderous glare at him over their shoulders, then walking to their own beds to get their stuff.

Sirius sat on his bed, his face still in his hands. He wanted desperately to kill himself. He'd rather die than face Remus, face the most precious, treasured thing in his life - the thing he had destroyed from himself.

Remus would probably never even look at him again. Never, and Sirius couldn't blame him for that.

He rubbed absent-mindedly at the itching spot on his neck and shoulder joint, then slowly opened his eyes to see what was distracting him there. His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of silvery marks of teeth - Remus's mark on him. A living reminder of his horrible crime.

The black-haired teen felt tears rolling down his cheeks again. If he only could, he'd have joyfully given his own life to make the done undone.

"Sirius?" he suddenly heard a soft voice. He slowly raised his gaze and froze.

Remus stood there in front of him, a blanket wrapped over his pyjamas. Sirius saw the fresh lines of tears all over his face. There was a horrible bruise on his cheek, and his lips were pressed very un-Remus-ly together, probably to prevent them trembling. In the background, he saw James and Peter, who were attentively staring at them both. Well, he couldn't blame them for being suspicious.

"Moony," he whispered, letting his gaze drop from the form of his boyfriend. "I wish I was dead." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Will you kill me?" he asked, almost hopefully.

"I couldn't do it even if I tried," Remus said. "You know that."

"I know," he said, still very quietly. "Werewolves can't harm their... mates." He again unconsciously rubbed the silvery mark left by Remus's teeth.

"True enough," Remus snorted, crouching down to get on eye-level with Sirius. "But it's not that. At least not only that." Something in his voice made Sirius raise his gaze again, no matter how painful it was. Once he had made an eye contact with Sirius, Remus continued, "I - I still love you, Sirius. I know this sounds bizarre, and I failed to explain it to even myself, but I love you."

"You can't," Sirius whispered, shaking his head slowly. He didn't break the eye contact, though. He just couldn't bring himself leaving the steady gaze of Remus's - those beautiful shining orbs, now covered by tears, but still just as beautiful. "You can't love a monster like I am. I don't deserve to be loved by you, Remus. You're too perfect to even look at me." And it was true. Oh, hell, it was true. Remus was indeed a perfect creature, and Sirius had lost that perfection forever.

To his great surprise, Remus leaned forward to stroke slightly the silver mark he had left on Sirius's skin the last night. "I'm yours now, Sirius," Remus whispered, looking right into his eyes. "I'm yours, now and forever. I need time to get over this, but I still love you, Sirius, and I think I always will."

And with that, he turned around and walked away, leaving Sirius trembling and crying on his bed.