Title: Going to Waste
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: Remus cant stand by and watch Tonks spiral out of control like this, especially when he's been in the same situation before. But this time, he's not so sure she'll listen to him, as it is, most likely, his fault.
Characters: Remus/Tonks
Prompt: Ed Sherran's A Team
Genre: Romance, Angst
Rating: pg-13 (drug use)
Word count: 1187
She hadn’t been sleeping.
There were huge, dark bags under her eyes. Her hair was still mousy brown, shaggy and unkempt as it floated around her sickly face. Her eyes lacked any shine, her makeup was smudged, her lips were dry and cracked. Her clothes were loose on her small frame.
She had let herself go to waste, and Remus couldn’t believe that no one else seemed to have noticed. Or, if they had, they weren’t going to do anything about it.
Maybe he only recognised the signs because he’d been there before. Depressed, feeling useless, unwanted, unloved, feeling numb... he’d turned to drugs, until a bad trip had put him off for life. But he recognised the symptoms, and it was killing him to watch her destroy herself.
But he couldn’t see a way of stopping her without getting too involved. And getting involved with Dora was the one thing he had told himself needed to stop. He couldn’t go back there; the wound was still tender, unhealed.
But he couldn’t do nothing. Not when she was like this.
The meeting was over, but she hadn’t moved from the kitchen table at the burrow. Her hands rested in her lap; fingers twisting, interlocking and separating again restlessly as she stared blankly at the wall. It was easy to tell what was on her mind; she hadn’t been paying any attention during the meeting. He watched her from the doorway, although she seemed unaware of his presence. With a shaky sigh, she pushed the chair back and stood.
Molly tried to stop her.
“Tonks, dear-”
“Sorry Molly, I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.”
“Oh, of course dear... Ill see you soon...”
“Yeah.” She shrugged her jacket on, turning up the collar and pushing her long fringe out of her eyes. Without another word she left, and Molly rounded on him.
“You have to do something about her Remus. I don’t know what’s wrong with her, she looks so sick-”
“I know. I know!” Angrily, he put his mug of untouched tea on the table. “What do you want me to do about it? She wont speak to me, she barely even looks at me...” It hurt to admit the truth. But he had done this.
“You know what’s wrong with her, don’t you?”
Not meeting her eyes, he nodded he knew that she knew, too. “I’ve been there... I want to... but I cant...”
“Help her.” Molly said firmly, eyes pleading. “She needs you. She needs a friend now more than ever, Remus. Please.”
He knew she was right, and so he followed her out into the winter chill.
He knew where she would be. Dealing spots never changed if they were never busted, and he knew of one close to her flat, a dark, unused tunnel under new highways. Taking a deep breath and concentrating hard, he twisted on the spot.
The gravel crunched underfoot as he walked into the darkness, his eyes adjusting quickly. Standing still, he listened. Once he picked up on the quiet murmurs, he began moving again. He rounded a corner and there she was, digging through her pockets searching for money that he doubted she had.
“Well?” her dealer was impatient, a dark man towering over her. “Can you pay or not?”
“I... I...” She faltered under his glare. “Please, I’ll pay next week, please, I just need-”
“No.”
“But I-”
“Pay upfront, you know the rules.”
“I’ll pay for her.”
The both jumped a little, turning to stare at him. Out of his pocket he pulled a crisp twenty pound note. “Is that enough?”
Scowling, the man snatched the note, slapping the small bag of powder into Tonks’ hand before he marched off into the darkness.
“Dora... come on.” Gently, he took her arm, pulling her out into the light. In silence, he started walking her back to her flat, but she pulled out of his grip.
“You should go home.” He told her. She shook her head, and when she spoke, her voice was small and afraid.
“I cant.”
He ended up hailing a cab he knew neither of them could pay for, and taking her back to his shabby flat. But she seemed more comfortable and relaxed, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned as the scenery flew by. She didn’t move, or speak the entire ride. He was fascinated by the sight; she sat, like a statue, staring straight ahead, her hands clutching the small bag as street lights and car lights created an ever changing backdrop. He’d never seen anyone sit so still; although her hands were constantly twitching, fiddling with the bag and twisting together.
It didn’t take much to convince her to sleep; he put her in his bed and she curled up, placing the powder on the edge of the desk where she could see it. She didn’t sleep for long though. It wasn’t even midnight when he heard the creek of the bedroom door from the sitting room. Standing, he caught the bathroom door closing. He went to the bedroom, and it was just as he expected; she’d taken the drugs with her.
She didn’t seem surprised to see him there when she returned, the bag half empty.
“You have to stop. Please.”
She looked away, pulling at the hem of her t-shirt, but didn’t reply. He stood, walking to her. Hesitantly, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s all my fault. I know it is. You’re upset, and I blame myself for that, but Dora...” her eyes locked on his for the first time in months. “You can’t do this to yourself. It’s not going to make you feel better. Maybe it will for a bit... but not in the long run. You can’t keep going. You’ll end up killing yourself.”
She looked down at her bare feet, her eyes watering.
“I don’t know why I...” she faltered. “I just wanted to feel. To feel happy again.”
He nodded. “I know. I did that too. That's why I did it. But trust me. It just makes everything worse.”
She nodded, and he could see the tears brimming over. Then, suddenly, she threw her arms around him, and she was apologising into his jumper, her fingers digging into his back. He held her, and the little bag lay abandoned on the floor. She finally slept again, curled up next to him, and in the morning before she left, she placed the bag on the arm of the couch. With a small smile she left.
Everything was still far from okay between them. But she was getting better, and she knew he was there for her. He’d told himself he wouldn’t get involved... but she needed him now. And he couldn’t just abandon her. Not now. Not like this.
Because really, he still loved her, and it hurt too much to not have her in his life.
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we're just under the upperhand
And go mad for a couple of grams
And she don't want to go outside tonight