Haunted.
ooc: This Remus is not a part of theatrical_muse, but the topic of the week ("Write about a recurring dream you've had. (Or, if you've never had one, write about the most vivid dream you can remember.)") was the only way I had to explain one reason why he's acting the way he is in this.
Crossposted to hp_random.
Warning: Disturbing imagery ahead.
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He can feel it coming. He knows how to recognize it by now, and most of the time he knows how to live with it. After all, there's no point in fighting it.
Yet, he does. He fights it as much and as hard as he possibly can, even if it has become a part of him. Even if it has been a part of him for most of his life.
Then, at that moment, the full moon rises and he knows that he can't fight anymore. Bones shift, skin stretches, his vision becomes contorted, and Remus Lupin ceases to exist in a matter of seconds. In his place is a thing his parents had once warned him about. He's that thing that no longer thinks rationally; he's that beast that is out for blood.
Sudden movement catches his attention and at once he's focused on that noise. They're footsteps at first, followed by laughter, and the next noise that is heard is not from whoever it is that's walking by. It's a growl, low in his throat as he prepares himself to hunt. He's hungry tonight. Starving.
Food. He needs food.
Faster and faster he goes, chasing after those footsteps and the source of that laughter that no longer exists. Now there are just screams but he doesn't understand what they're saying. This is what he wants, those screams that heighten his desire to hunt. To hurt. To kill.
The chase isn't easy, but when he's done he feels satiated enough to ignore how tired his limbs are. The taste of blood is still in his mouth, and he licks his lips before settling down. Suddenly the sounds of birds chirping makes him open his eyes, and he notices that the night has started to fade away.
It is then that it happens. Bones shift once more, skin goes back to normal, and the beast is gone. In its place now there's Remus Lupin, naked, covered in blood--
Blood. There's so much blood.
'No,' he thinks desperately as he tries to sit up. 'No, there shouldn't be blood. No, no...'
His limbs are shaking, his stomach is clenching and twisting and turning violently, but he forces himself to stand. He forces himself to take a few steps even if his knees buckle with each attempt, and soon enough he's back on the ground on all fours.
It is then that he sees them. The source of all the blood that he's covered with is right in front of him, and he can only stare as he feels his world shatter around him.
'No. No, no, no...'
The word gets caught in his throat as he wakes, and in seconds he's shakily sitting up. He's in his bedroom, he tries to convince himself as he looks around the dark room; he's not out in some field.
"It wasn't real," he mumbles weakly, urgently as he scrambles out of bed and rushes to the bathroom. As soon as the light comes on he flinches at the sudden change, but he doesn't care. His eyes squint as they adjust to the light, and when he can see clearly he checks for himself that he's not covered in blood. That he's not a werewolf at the moment, that he's okay. That they're okay.
The thought causes everything inside him to crumble, and before he knows it he's sitting on the cold floor, leaning against the door. With eyes tightly shut he tries to erase their faces, he tries to forget that blood he had seen in his dream, but he can't.
He can still see them. He can still hear them, so loud and clear now.
James. Lily. Sirius. Harry. Dora. Teddy.
Usually it's just one that he sees in those dreams, staring lifelessly up at him and covered in blood, but this time it's different. This time it had been all of them. He had hurt all of them. He had killed all of them. Some part of him, that logical part that was usually in control, would argue that it had just been a dream, that he had been the beast in his dream, but he doesn't register those thoughts.
A wave of nausea hits him then, and he shuts his eyes even tighter. Resting his elbows on his drawn up knees, he grasps tightly to handfuls of hair and forces himself to focus. These nightmares always came when the full moon was getting closer. They were always so vivid, so strong, and they voiced every fear he ever had. Of hurting his friends and family. Of being responsible for losing them.
Of being alone again.
"It was just a nightmare," he whispers to himself, but he feels no comfort. There won't be, he knows, because the risk of hurting one of them was always there.
It would never go away, no matter how much tried to fight it.
Crossposted to hp_random.
Warning: Disturbing imagery ahead.
------------------------
He can feel it coming. He knows how to recognize it by now, and most of the time he knows how to live with it. After all, there's no point in fighting it.
Yet, he does. He fights it as much and as hard as he possibly can, even if it has become a part of him. Even if it has been a part of him for most of his life.
Then, at that moment, the full moon rises and he knows that he can't fight anymore. Bones shift, skin stretches, his vision becomes contorted, and Remus Lupin ceases to exist in a matter of seconds. In his place is a thing his parents had once warned him about. He's that thing that no longer thinks rationally; he's that beast that is out for blood.
Sudden movement catches his attention and at once he's focused on that noise. They're footsteps at first, followed by laughter, and the next noise that is heard is not from whoever it is that's walking by. It's a growl, low in his throat as he prepares himself to hunt. He's hungry tonight. Starving.
Food. He needs food.
Faster and faster he goes, chasing after those footsteps and the source of that laughter that no longer exists. Now there are just screams but he doesn't understand what they're saying. This is what he wants, those screams that heighten his desire to hunt. To hurt. To kill.
The chase isn't easy, but when he's done he feels satiated enough to ignore how tired his limbs are. The taste of blood is still in his mouth, and he licks his lips before settling down. Suddenly the sounds of birds chirping makes him open his eyes, and he notices that the night has started to fade away.
It is then that it happens. Bones shift once more, skin goes back to normal, and the beast is gone. In its place now there's Remus Lupin, naked, covered in blood--
Blood. There's so much blood.
'No,' he thinks desperately as he tries to sit up. 'No, there shouldn't be blood. No, no...'
His limbs are shaking, his stomach is clenching and twisting and turning violently, but he forces himself to stand. He forces himself to take a few steps even if his knees buckle with each attempt, and soon enough he's back on the ground on all fours.
It is then that he sees them. The source of all the blood that he's covered with is right in front of him, and he can only stare as he feels his world shatter around him.
'No. No, no, no...'
The word gets caught in his throat as he wakes, and in seconds he's shakily sitting up. He's in his bedroom, he tries to convince himself as he looks around the dark room; he's not out in some field.
"It wasn't real," he mumbles weakly, urgently as he scrambles out of bed and rushes to the bathroom. As soon as the light comes on he flinches at the sudden change, but he doesn't care. His eyes squint as they adjust to the light, and when he can see clearly he checks for himself that he's not covered in blood. That he's not a werewolf at the moment, that he's okay. That they're okay.
The thought causes everything inside him to crumble, and before he knows it he's sitting on the cold floor, leaning against the door. With eyes tightly shut he tries to erase their faces, he tries to forget that blood he had seen in his dream, but he can't.
He can still see them. He can still hear them, so loud and clear now.
James. Lily. Sirius. Harry. Dora. Teddy.
Usually it's just one that he sees in those dreams, staring lifelessly up at him and covered in blood, but this time it's different. This time it had been all of them. He had hurt all of them. He had killed all of them. Some part of him, that logical part that was usually in control, would argue that it had just been a dream, that he had been the beast in his dream, but he doesn't register those thoughts.
A wave of nausea hits him then, and he shuts his eyes even tighter. Resting his elbows on his drawn up knees, he grasps tightly to handfuls of hair and forces himself to focus. These nightmares always came when the full moon was getting closer. They were always so vivid, so strong, and they voiced every fear he ever had. Of hurting his friends and family. Of being responsible for losing them.
Of being alone again.
"It was just a nightmare," he whispers to himself, but he feels no comfort. There won't be, he knows, because the risk of hurting one of them was always there.
It would never go away, no matter how much tried to fight it.