Tripped

Remus falls.

When he was little, his arms would reach out to break the crash. His palms would be bloody and his knees would be scraped, but his face would be clean and smiling. He'd always stand back up with a toothy smile and try again. These days he leaves his arms at his side. Sometimes he falls to one side; most days he just doesn't care. He stopped counting the scars. They are all shiny, smooth, and many. This is how life goes:

Molly chides him. "You drink too much," she says. He never responds, but only takes another swig of firewhiskey. But he knows exactly what he'd say if he ever let himself talk back. He likes the way it burns on his tongue and slides down his throat. It dulls the senses and lets him forget temporarily of the pain. His moods come in stages night by night. By five he is drinking and by six he's a little too merry. By eight he's angry at the entire world and by ten he counts his losses.

He formulates a list, and it starts with his parents.

Mum and Dad

Lily and James

Peter and Sirius

Dumbledore

They come in pairs, two people, their deaths somehow related. Except of course Dumbledore, but Remus patiently waits for the other shoe to drop. He considers Peter as well as dead considering the friend he once knew had degraded into a beast worshipping mongrel.

Everyday he starts his morning by kicking his left leg over to propel himself off the bed. Once standing, he reaches into his small suitcase and pulls out his knife. Remus' smile is always grim and forced as he stares into the mirror; his hand steady as he levels it above his wrist. But every time when Molly knocks on his door and offers breakfast, it is then that his grip falters.

Breakfast is delicious. It reminds him of two things. One: he can't afford his own meals, and two: the meat is always overcooked.

He can hardly remember the bite. The events leading up to it are blurred and hazy, as if real important life only began after The Attack. They used to tell him he was lucky he hadn't died and he believed them. Now he disagrees.

He's seen too much, felt too much, been denied too much. He tried too hard, and the only trophy he has to wear is scars.

His first scar he remembers was from being attacked. There is a thin and faded streak starting at the base of his throat that leads to the center of his abdomen from a claw. A lumpy mass of scar tissue is at his hip. It never resembled teeth marks but the sentiment is still there. Sometimes it still stings when he touches it: all figments of his imagination.

He has several marks marring his chest from antlers and gruesome gnashing of Sirius' teeth. Years later Sirius would ask Remus about them. "I'm still sorry, ya know," he'd mumble, but Remus never listened.

A more infamous scar was the result of Remus being sent to St. Mungo's for the second time in his life. It was the Potters' moving day into Godric's Hollow, and the Marauders came to lend a helping hand. There were narrow steps leading from the small flat to ground level - Sirius had counted ninety-six. Somewhere along the forty-second step down, Remus lost his footing. The box he clasped went tumbling down, and he soon followed after. Lily's favorite snow globe broke, along with a hand mirror and six cracked ribs and a skull. When the nurses opened Remus' shirt they saw the scars and backed away. From then on he learned to be more careful and how to heal himself without aid. He never went back.

One day following a full moon, Molly went to brush the hair from his eyes and saw the scar from where he hit his head. Her lips pursed and his smile became forced. "Don't worry about it," he said hoarsely. Her fingers faltered. He didn't want to know how she'd react to the other wounds he bore.

Ultimately, he knows the worse scars and pains are those that hide within. Rejection being the worst, ripping a slow and growing wound in his soul. He would look at Sirius after he had escaped Azkaban; take one hand and murmur, "How long until we are no longer strays?"

When Sirius died, he found his answer.

James used to smile with eyes wide and lit. He'd talk about Lily and suddenly he'd stop being the arrogant teenager he was. He'd humble as speech flew from his mouth like poetry. Remus waited for the day when he'd fall in love and find a girl to make him bold and courageous and happy. Fifteen years came and went and he found himself long past his prime.

His humor waned.

He is methodical, organized; prized for his logic. The events in his life can be neatly plotted on a timeline. He tallies things for amusement - morbid fascination - three hundred and eighty-four full moons, seven deaths, twenty-eight jobs, and one life. At the bottom of his list, one number has never changed. Zero accomplishments.

One thousand heartbreaks.

This is what he remembers about his friends:

Peter was a frightened little child who clung to a book of inspirational quotes his mother wrote out for him to keep before she died. Whenever he saw any of his friends down, he'd pull out the book and read to them a new quote. James and Sirius would play a game where one person would start sentence and the other had to finish it. It was always immature and oddly inappropriate yet hilarious.

Remus sat on his bed sixth year after a rough night when Peter held up his book and whispered meekly, "Everybody falls sometimes."

Remus never let him finish the quote, but instead finished it inside his head, 'Some people just can't get back up again.'

The day the second shoe drops is the day following Arthur Weasley's death. Remus kicks one foot over the other in order to rise from the bed. He pulls out the knife and places it over his wrists.

And so he waits for Molly to come and offer him another free meal in the house where he has a free room. He knows she'll never come; he waits patiently.

'Death always comes in pairs,' he thinks, and so he wonders who will come after him. Perhaps it'll be Molly who goes, or Bill: ever so brave and almost a beast like himself. But maybe - just maybe - he'll be the end of the curse.

The pain sears his nerves, but he knows that he's felt worse.

Remus falls.

He breaks.

He cries.

Splinters.

Shatters.

Dies.