The Wicked Cry Alone

Three

In retrospect, perhaps they shouldn't have gone out that morning. However, with their food stocks low and gold even lower, there wasn't much choice.

They simply needed to be careful and take precise aim. The rain wouldn't fall as thickly in the forest; Tom was a good hunter and Remus had learned a lot in eight years.

So when the gunshot went off and Tom's shocked cry hit his ears, he didn't think. He took off at a run, heedless of the approaching lightning.

'Oh Gods, oh gods,' he panted, barrelling through the trees, 'oh gods, he's okay, he's okay, he has to be.' Like a desperate prayer, swallowed up by the pelting droplets that were coming faster.

Wet strands clung thickly to his forehead and he could barely see, but he could feel. Somehow, Tom's presence -- a cheery yellow in his head that he'd always associated with the man -- was fading. Fast. Panic gripped Remus and he ran faster. The branches were merciless, tearing apart his pack and lashing out at his arms -- history was repeating itself; he'd only forced himself to forget.

'Tom!' He dropped to his knees by the prone man's side, his hands scrambling over clothing and hunting gear in search of any sign of life. Deep red already coated the front of the man's clothing. Upon closer inspection, his eyes squinting to see through the now-heavy rainfall, he spotted the open wound in his chest. A cold trickle that had nothing to do with the rain started down the back of his neck.

His gaze darted up to Tom's face. It didn't look like he was breathing; his eyes were stuck in a shocked, open stare, lips parted in a silent scream. Frozen fingers traced the lines of his face before they settled at the side of his throat in a fruitless search for a pulse.

That was when the trembling started. He wouldn't remember exactly what happened next, but the anguished scream that ripped through the forest could be heard all the way in town.

***

For two days, Remus had cloistered himself up in the cabin, coming out only to feed Faela and relieve himself. He resolutely ignored the growling of his stomach, feeling that this was proper punishment for getting yet another person killed because of whatever he was. He never found out where the errant shot had come from, but it certainly wasn't a hunter's shot gone astray. This was intentional. Premeditated. He shivered whenever he dwelled on the incident.

Remus had spent half of that day lying by Tom's side, atoning -- mourning in his own way -- for the sins that he allegedly committed. Faela had whined her sadness like a mournful serenade to the night, shivering next to him as the cold wet air turned dark. They both went hungry that night as Remus dug a crude grave by hand. Tom was buried right where he died, surrounded by the forest he loved since he was a boy -- not much younger than Remus was when he'd found him.

His grief was quiet; he hadn't uttered another word, not even to find comfort in Faela, or to offer her any in return. She instinctively respected his sorrow and shared in it, sitting by his side whenever he allowed it. Otherwise, she would lay just outside the cabin, head on her paws, light ochre eyes staring off into a world only she could see.

He didn't expect to see anyone until he needed to go into town to resume his life. Or what little was left of it. He would have to fend for himself now. At least Tom had taught him well.

Loneliness was something he grew used to over the years, even craved -- he couldn't let himself remember the laughter and games with his friends. He used to think that loneliness would be his fate in life, but Sirius Black wouldn't let it swallow him up.

On the third day, he sought Remus out. Determination lined his face when Remus opened the door, already telling him to go away.

'What'll you do if I don't? Isolate yourself more? Bloody starve? This isn't necessary, Remus!' Sirius pushed the door open and shouldered his way in, dripping from the rainstorm.

At least the weather fit Remus's mood. He had become too weary to complain so he shut the door and leant against it, shutting his eyes to block out the sight of Sirius hovering in front of him.

'Not now, please. It's been a bad few days.' His voice had grown hoarse from the quiet sobs.

'Exactly why I'm here. Let's go, I'm getting you something to eat.' Sirius grabbed him by the hand and drew him away from the door. Remus didn't have it in him to argue when he was pulled out of the cabin and up the sodden road. His companion trotted slowly behind.

Sirius led them to his house, thinking that Walburga was out. He fixed up a quick sandwich for them each and made sure that Remus finished his. Tea washed it all down.

Afterwards, Remus looked considerably better despite the wet hair plastered to his neck. The pallor of his face was giving way to some colour and Sirius couldn't help touching his cheek. He watched the faint pink turn brighter and smiled.

'You look much better. I'm a great cook, aren't I.' As if it weren't a question. He puffed up his chest out of habit. Remus groaned and shook his head.

'Absolutely the best. Can we go back now?'

'I just got you here! How about we get you on a stroll and then you can hole up again. Sound like a plan? Of course, if you'd been less of a prat, we might have gone out yesterday when it wasn't raining.' He raised an eyebrow, challenging Remus to question him.

When he brooked no argument, Sirius grabbed his hand again and made to stand.

Voices drifted in from another room, steadily growing louder and more agitated. Remus looked around uncertainly and got up, heading for the door out of instinct. When Sirius could tell who those voices belonged to, he couldn't have gotten out any faster.

Before she could round the corner, she was already yelling, 'Get out, get out, you monster!' Walburga's screech cut like a knife, starting a sickening churn in Remus's gut, just like last time.

The next thing Sirius saw was his back as Remus disappeared down the muddy path. Faela's growling grew just as distant as she trailed after him.

He vaguely remembered Bella's hateful slurs against Remus. How she'd heard about hisstrangeness from the neighbouring villages. She claimed that he was cursed, and she successfully spread her venom to the rest of the family; even to Regulus, who'd grown distant. He never spoke out against Remus, but Sirius knew that his dirty family would turn him sooner rather than later.

Anger at the injustice and deviousness of his family flared in his chest and he whirled on Walburga, his eyes glittering with barely restrained hatred.

'That's it, I'm done. Fuck this and fuck you!' His hands curled tightly at his sides. Before he could lash out, Regulus -- who'd slunk out of the shadows like a snake -- grabbed his arm, trying to pull Sirius back despite his older brother's greater strength.

Snarling, he pushed his brother's hand away and hauled off, leaving Regulus staring sadly after him.

His feet moulded to Remus's muddy tracks, nearly washed away from the pounding rain. He was determined to find out what had happened so many years ago. He wouldn't let Remus go through this alone, not anymore.

***

Remus sat stiffly on his bed. His hands wrung the sheet tightly, its coarseness grating on his skin; harsh, like the tension that was shredding his nerves.

'Remus, please. You know I won't hurt you.' The soft, genuine concern cinched it.

He took a steadying breath and shut his eyes. Long sandy lashes settled like a heavy weight against his cheeks, clumping with the tears he refused to acknowledge. Sirius laid his hands in front of Remus's, the tips of their fingers barely brushing. A silent display of support.

'I was eight. The villagers... they came after me, but my parents wouldn't let them hurt me. For the longest time, I didn't know why they hated me so much. Why th-they would spread rumours about us. And then I found out, the day before everything --'

The sentence ended abruptly with a broken off sob ripping through his throat. Long-withheld memories came flooding to the surface and his breathing stopped. Held. He wondered how long he could hold it before he passed out.

Strong arms wrapped around his waist and his head was tucked against solid heat. Sirius's chin rested on his head, both of his hands rubbing slow, tender circles across his sides and back. 'It's all right, you don't have to. Just... just let me stay with you, okay?'

The puff of Sirius's breath against his ear grounded him and restarted his own breathing. He tried again.

'No, I have to. Or... I won't be able t-to come to terms.' Remus circled his arms around Sirius and he listened for the other boy's heartbeat, trying to sync his own to it by controlling his breathing.

Eventually, the steady lub-dub fell in tune with his and he relaxed against Sirius's chest. 'They thought I was a monster... or a-a witch. I don't know why, but my parents always told me to ignore them. They were just ignorant. They didn't understand.'

The only thing the villagers had seen was smoke rising from the one-storey, the smell of cooking animal flesh, the bones buried in the yard. Neither he nor his parents were ever sick.Unholy! said the elder women, practising wicked prayer! said the old men. Devils! Heathens! And that child, a monster! The words burned in his mind as he spoke them, one by one, to Sirius. He recounted the things his parents did: little rituals that he thought were normal.

'They said it was to keep us safe and healthy,' he whispered, clutching Sirius's shirt like a small child. 'I know they weren't bad people. We always laughed. Mum told the best stories. Da was a good man, a hunter, like... T-Tom.'

Tears stained Sirius's shirt, but neither of them noticed. Losing his adoptive father was a heavy blow. At least he still had Faela --

'-- and me,' Sirius finished, answering Remus's last thought; he was unaware that he'd spoken aloud. 'Remus, you have me. Whatever happens, you have to know that.'

Remus slowly nodded his head before burrowing into Sirius's chest and letting his frustrations go.

They sat on the bed together for hours until Remus was worn out. His breathing slowed against Sirius's neck, lightly ruffling the hair at the nape.

Sirius held him close as he slept peacefully for the first time in days. He pulled the knitted blanket over them both before Remus tucked himself against his side, their legs tangling under the blanket and hands entwining over his chest as Sirius fell asleep.

***

Flames licked the edges of his consciousness, trapping him in the same nightmare he'd had as a child, right after running away from the burning bodies of his parents.

Oh Gods, he thought, his heart pounding harshly in his ears, eyes fluttering rapidly under his eyelids, oh Gods, not again! No, please; not here!

Smoke started to trickle under the door, black and acrid, worse than he'd ever smelt.

'Remus!' Someone was pounding desperately on the window frame, shouting an endless stream of pleas and commands. 'Get out of there! The whole bloody thing's burning! REMUS!'

Shaken from his nightmare, he scrambled out of his bed only to be confronted with the hot stench of burning wood and animal skins. He grabbed whatever clothing he could before turning to the window, where Sirius's terrified face hovered.

His hand touched the glass, right over Sirius's open mouth, still shouting for him to 'get the hell out!'

'I have to find Faela!' he shouted back, turning without waiting for a response. She was usually just outside or around back. A sinking feeling started collecting in his stomach but he roughly pushed it aside, focusing on skirting around the heavy plumes of smoke that billowed through the cabin. Its ominous blackness completely blocked his vision and closed up his throat, wrenching deep, dry coughs from him. His hands raked over surfaces, feeling for both growing heat and supplies to grab in the blind tightrope walk to the door.

One of the few times luck was on his side, he felt the door handle and pulled sharply, calling out for his companion. As soon as the door swung open, fresh air cleared out much of the smoke and he looked around.

His heart stopped in his chest when his searching gaze landed on the cabin wall.

Monster!

Burn in Hell!

Painted in blood red, streaked with sickly grey ash and black coal dust. Wild brown eyes darted about, feet guiding him around the cabin. Just as he was turning the corner, his foot hit a solid mass. With both arms encumbered by salvaged supplies, he couldn't reach down to check what it was, but the twisting in his gut told him all he needed to know. He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed thickly, tasting dusty saltiness, heavy with the coppery tang lingering by the cabin wall.

A hand yanked him forward, causing him to overbalance and fall into someone's arms. They surrounded him and pulled him along; away from the flames licking at their heels, engulfing the cabin and swallowing Faela's body whole.