InsaneJournal

Darkfic Challenge: Cure For Pain
Title: Cure for Pain
Author: red_day_dawning
Prompt: Silver chains; Remus/Kingsley
Word count: ~750
Rating: PG-13
Warning: AU (Severus has died on the day of the Hogwarts' Battle, Remus has survived - no Tonks or Teddy); attempted suicide; character death;
Disclaimer: JKR owns the Harry Potter characters and settings. I make no profit here.
Summary: Kingsley tries to save Remus, knowing he will never replace Severus in Remus' heart.
Author's note: Written for the 2009 Darkfic Challenge at lupin_snape. Many thanks to drachenmina for the fabulous beta-reading. Any mistakes are my own.
T'S.Eliot's The Waste Land can be found and downloaded at Project Gutenberg.



1. The Burial of the Dead.
I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
T.S.Eliot, The Waste Land

May 2, 1998.
The body lay before him, curled in upon itself like a dead caterpillar, a storm-wracked butterfly; faded, crumpled and so very small. In life he had appeared tall, taller than he really was, lean and sinewy. His face was peaceful, looking just as he did when sleeping; the only sign of violence a small trickle of blood from his open mouth. His eyes were partially open, just as when he slept, revealing the faintest glimpse of dark brown, shielded by darker lashes.


Remus lowered himself to the floor next to the body. His hands crept out automatically, in long-practiced gestures, smoothing the dark, silky hair, stroking the familiar features of this beloved face.

"You bloody fool, you fucking, bloody idiot. It shouldn't have been you, should never have been you."

He pressed himself against the still form, hoping… hoping for what? A warmth, a familiar scent, a movement, some sign this wasn't real? That wasn't going to happen. That would never happen. Severus was dead. Dead and gone forever.

Words failed him, speech failed, sense failed him. He lay down, pressing himself against Severus, and quietly wept. There were no more words. Only silence and emptiness and despair. Now and always.



2. Rat's Alley
I think we are in rats' alley
Where the dead men lost their bones.
T.S.Eliot, The Waste Land

June 14, 2000.
Kingsley looked up in surprise as his secretary stumbled through the door, eyes wide, freckles dark against his pale skin. "Percy, what is it?"

"Minister... he's at St. Mungo's. They've found him. Lupin, he's at St. Mungos. Silver poisoning."

Percy called out to Kingsley's retreating back, "I'll cancel this afternoon's appointments, shall I?"

There was no sign that he was heard.



"Where is he? How is he?"

Reaching out to enfold the taller man in a hug, Arthur led him to a chair, murmuring, "Sit down, Kingsley. He's being treated. He'll be okay."

"Who did this? Who poisoned him?"

"Er..."

"Arthur, WHO THE FUCK DID THIS TO REMUS?"

"He did it to himself, Kingsley," Arthur said, his voice slow and gentle. "He was wearing silver. Dozens of silver chains. And he'd injected himsef with silver nitrate."

"Oh gods," Kingsley said. "Oh gods, why?"

Arthur said nothing. But then he didn't really have to answer, because Kingsley knew, everyone knew why Remus Lupin might want to drape himself in silver chains, might want to die.

Kingsley dropped his head into his hands, and said nothing, made no sound, Arthur's hand on his shoulder as he sat, head bowed.



Kingsley did not require a guide to find the room where Remus was being treated. Hoarse, rasping cries and the sound of choking breath guided his steps to the right room. He paused at the door, suddenly hesitant, frightened. Please don't let him die.



3. Death by Water
A current under sea
Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell,
He passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
T.S.Eliot, The Waste Land

May, 2000.
"I cannot give you what you want," Remus said, still breathless from orgasm, his face pressed against Kingsley's chest.

"And how do you know what I want?" Kingsley asked.

"You want someone who is alive," Remus whispered.



4. What the Thunder Said.
He who was living is now dead
[...] Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
T.S.Eliot, The Waste Land

June 16, 2000.
Kingsley jerked himself awake as he felt Remus stir, pulling himself upright out of the chair he was slumped in. Remus' eyes were fluttering open, and he was trying to speak. He was muttering a name. Not Kingsley's name.

Kingsley held his hand, waiting for him to fully wake in his own time.

Remus' eyes opened, and Kingsley said, his deep voice rumbling, "It's okay, Remus, it's all right, you're safe now."

His voice raspy, without inflection, Remus said, "Safe?" as though the word were a curse, not a blessing.



5. The Burial of the Dead.
I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
T.S.Eliot, The Waste Land

June 16, 2000.
Lupin dreams. He dreams of his first night with Severus, the wonder of pale, gleaming skin, and sex rough and brutal, pleasure as well as pain. And afterwards, skin pressed against skin, silent tenderness. He dreams of his last night with Severus, laying with his arms wrapped around him, holding him, silent again.

Only the dreams remain now. The dreams, and silver chains.