Clarity
Title: Clarity
Author: shimotsuki
Rating and Warnings: PG (reference to offstage character death)
Prompt: cloud, pilfering back one of the prompts I had before I "gambled"
Word Count: 1178
Summary: Remus grieves for one friend, wondering whether he will lose the other too-and whether he ever really won her friendship in the first place.
Author's Notes: This story follows the events in my first Showdown post, Friends. It fits into the Kaleidoscope series right before Blindsided.
Clarity
The first time Remus came to St. Mungo's, Tonks was still unconscious.
He hardly knew how he'd managed to find Spell Damage, numb with grief as he was. Now he made his way to her bed at the far end of the ward, feeling as though his legs were made of lead, or as though he were slogging his way through the densest, coldest water at the bottom of the sea.
Remus sat down on one of the uncomfortable chairs that St. Mungo's provided for visitors. He leaned forward to study Tonks's pale face, framed by soft, slightly wavy hair in a delicate shade of light brown he had never seen her wear before. A remote corner of his brain that was still trying to function wondered if perhaps Metamorphmagi reverted to their natural appearance when they lost consciousness.
There were no visible injuries, but she lay very, very still.
One of several new memories currently plaguing Remus was the sight of Tonks lying crumpled in a heap where Bellatrix's hex-or curse-had hit her. And she looked just as pale and small now as she had done there in the Department of Mysteries.
Not to mention fragile. Remus had never thought of cheeky, capable Tonks as fragile, but now she looked as though one wrong move on his part would send her shattering into a million pieces.
He rubbed his hands over his face and fought to clear his mind. Kingsley had told him that the Healers expected Tonks to wake up in the next day or so with a bad headache, but no lasting damage. She was going to be fine, everyone said.
Fine.
Except for the fact that she'd lost the cousin who made her grin when he mussed her hair and called her "peanut."
Remus reached out and touched her hand where it lay on top of the blanket. It felt very cold, so he picked it up and chafed it gently-and found that his own hands wouldn't stop shaking.
"I'm sorry, Tonks," he whispered, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at her while he said the words. "I'm so terribly sorry. I failed him. Again." Hot tears forced their way past his eyelids.
Nearly a whole day had gone by, but it still felt almost as though this couldn't be real-as though he were trapped in a nightmare, and if he would only wake up, he'd be able to go home to Grimmauld Place and find his best mate there waiting for him. Despite the ever-present dread of Voldemort's next attack, and the constant worries over keeping Harry safe and Sirius sane, this last year had been among the happiest of Remus's life. Old friendships had been restored, and new ones had been forged. He'd felt truly useful again, even necessary.
But now Sirius was gone.
And this fresh loss dredged up other, older griefs, which he'd thought he'd buried long ago. Remus felt like an empty shell tumbled by the surf, brittle and disoriented.
At least he wasn't alone. Unlike the first time he'd lost so much, this time he had a dear friend left to mourn with.
Or-
Did he?
Remus almost dropped Tonks's hand as a terrifying thought struck him-with surprising force of impact, given his grief-fogged mind.
Was she really his friend?
All those evenings at Grimmauld Place, when he'd been laughing at her stories, or challenging her to try out more and more difficult hair colours, or generally feeling warm and comfortable in the comradely atmosphere she created so easily... What if she'd only been tolerating him for Sirius's sake?
What if-
He stopped breathing.
What if she never wanted to see him again, because he would never be anything to her but a painful reminder of what she had lost? Of what he hadn't managed to save?
The panic subsided as quickly as it had appeared, to be replaced by a cold, grey certainty. If it came to that, then he would do what he had to do-he would respect her wishes and stay away.
And he would be alone again.
Life in a world without Nymphadora Tonks would be drab, and bleak, and unbearably empty. Was that the world that awaited him once she recovered?
But for now, she slept on, and so surely his presence wouldn't do her any harm. For now.
He sat by her side and held her hand-his lifeline-the only thing he could see as the ache of Sirius's death filled his heart and the world swirled incomprehensibly around him. His shoulders gradually grew stiff, and his back began to throb where he'd been hit by a deflected curse at the Ministry. But his mind knew nothing beyond the feel of her small cold hand in his, until finally a mediwitch came to shoo him away and settle the ward for the night.
. * . * .
The second time Remus came to St. Mungo's, Tonks had visitors.
From where he stood outside the door to Spell Damage, he could see that they were a middle-aged couple. The woman was gently stroking Tonks's fine brown hair, and the man had his arm around the woman's shoulders.
Her parents. Who, by the look of it, loved her very much. That would help, when she woke up. She would have family to grieve with her and help her move on.
Remus turned and slipped quietly away.
. * . * .
The third time Remus came to St. Mungo's, Tonks was sitting up in bed, reading a book.
Relief washed over him as he watched her from the entrance to the ward. She was going to be all right. Bellatrix had only robbed him of one irreplaceable friend, not both of them.
Only-now that he knew that Tonks was out of danger, the gnawing doubts returned. Did he really have the right to think of her as his friend? Now that he'd savoured the sight of her awake and alert, should he simply go away and leave her in peace?
But she looked up and caught sight of him where he stood, half hidden behind the door. The book slid unheeded from her lap as she waved vigorously. It was no longer his choice to make.
So Remus went to her, even though it required all the strength he possessed just to force his leaden legs across the ward again. What did she want from him? What could he possibly say?
When he reached her bed, he saw that her lashes were wet, and his own eyes filled with tears in response. But she was reaching out to him with both hands. And so he caught them and held them, gently rubbing her cold fingers with his thumbs in the only gesture of comfort he could manage.
"Remus-I'm so glad you've come." Her voice was a shaky whisper, but she was smiling through her tears, a bright, eager smile.
A smile for him.
An unexpected surge of joy, like a sunbeam, or a rainbow, pierced the haze of grief that clouded his mind.
. * fin * .
Author: shimotsuki
Rating and Warnings: PG (reference to offstage character death)
Prompt: cloud, pilfering back one of the prompts I had before I "gambled"
Word Count: 1178
Summary: Remus grieves for one friend, wondering whether he will lose the other too-and whether he ever really won her friendship in the first place.
Author's Notes: This story follows the events in my first Showdown post, Friends. It fits into the Kaleidoscope series right before Blindsided.
Clarity
The first time Remus came to St. Mungo's, Tonks was still unconscious.
He hardly knew how he'd managed to find Spell Damage, numb with grief as he was. Now he made his way to her bed at the far end of the ward, feeling as though his legs were made of lead, or as though he were slogging his way through the densest, coldest water at the bottom of the sea.
Remus sat down on one of the uncomfortable chairs that St. Mungo's provided for visitors. He leaned forward to study Tonks's pale face, framed by soft, slightly wavy hair in a delicate shade of light brown he had never seen her wear before. A remote corner of his brain that was still trying to function wondered if perhaps Metamorphmagi reverted to their natural appearance when they lost consciousness.
There were no visible injuries, but she lay very, very still.
One of several new memories currently plaguing Remus was the sight of Tonks lying crumpled in a heap where Bellatrix's hex-or curse-had hit her. And she looked just as pale and small now as she had done there in the Department of Mysteries.
Not to mention fragile. Remus had never thought of cheeky, capable Tonks as fragile, but now she looked as though one wrong move on his part would send her shattering into a million pieces.
He rubbed his hands over his face and fought to clear his mind. Kingsley had told him that the Healers expected Tonks to wake up in the next day or so with a bad headache, but no lasting damage. She was going to be fine, everyone said.
Fine.
Except for the fact that she'd lost the cousin who made her grin when he mussed her hair and called her "peanut."
Remus reached out and touched her hand where it lay on top of the blanket. It felt very cold, so he picked it up and chafed it gently-and found that his own hands wouldn't stop shaking.
"I'm sorry, Tonks," he whispered, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at her while he said the words. "I'm so terribly sorry. I failed him. Again." Hot tears forced their way past his eyelids.
Nearly a whole day had gone by, but it still felt almost as though this couldn't be real-as though he were trapped in a nightmare, and if he would only wake up, he'd be able to go home to Grimmauld Place and find his best mate there waiting for him. Despite the ever-present dread of Voldemort's next attack, and the constant worries over keeping Harry safe and Sirius sane, this last year had been among the happiest of Remus's life. Old friendships had been restored, and new ones had been forged. He'd felt truly useful again, even necessary.
But now Sirius was gone.
And this fresh loss dredged up other, older griefs, which he'd thought he'd buried long ago. Remus felt like an empty shell tumbled by the surf, brittle and disoriented.
At least he wasn't alone. Unlike the first time he'd lost so much, this time he had a dear friend left to mourn with.
Or-
Did he?
Remus almost dropped Tonks's hand as a terrifying thought struck him-with surprising force of impact, given his grief-fogged mind.
Was she really his friend?
All those evenings at Grimmauld Place, when he'd been laughing at her stories, or challenging her to try out more and more difficult hair colours, or generally feeling warm and comfortable in the comradely atmosphere she created so easily... What if she'd only been tolerating him for Sirius's sake?
What if-
He stopped breathing.
What if she never wanted to see him again, because he would never be anything to her but a painful reminder of what she had lost? Of what he hadn't managed to save?
The panic subsided as quickly as it had appeared, to be replaced by a cold, grey certainty. If it came to that, then he would do what he had to do-he would respect her wishes and stay away.
And he would be alone again.
Life in a world without Nymphadora Tonks would be drab, and bleak, and unbearably empty. Was that the world that awaited him once she recovered?
But for now, she slept on, and so surely his presence wouldn't do her any harm. For now.
He sat by her side and held her hand-his lifeline-the only thing he could see as the ache of Sirius's death filled his heart and the world swirled incomprehensibly around him. His shoulders gradually grew stiff, and his back began to throb where he'd been hit by a deflected curse at the Ministry. But his mind knew nothing beyond the feel of her small cold hand in his, until finally a mediwitch came to shoo him away and settle the ward for the night.
. * . * .
The second time Remus came to St. Mungo's, Tonks had visitors.
From where he stood outside the door to Spell Damage, he could see that they were a middle-aged couple. The woman was gently stroking Tonks's fine brown hair, and the man had his arm around the woman's shoulders.
Her parents. Who, by the look of it, loved her very much. That would help, when she woke up. She would have family to grieve with her and help her move on.
Remus turned and slipped quietly away.
. * . * .
The third time Remus came to St. Mungo's, Tonks was sitting up in bed, reading a book.
Relief washed over him as he watched her from the entrance to the ward. She was going to be all right. Bellatrix had only robbed him of one irreplaceable friend, not both of them.
Only-now that he knew that Tonks was out of danger, the gnawing doubts returned. Did he really have the right to think of her as his friend? Now that he'd savoured the sight of her awake and alert, should he simply go away and leave her in peace?
But she looked up and caught sight of him where he stood, half hidden behind the door. The book slid unheeded from her lap as she waved vigorously. It was no longer his choice to make.
So Remus went to her, even though it required all the strength he possessed just to force his leaden legs across the ward again. What did she want from him? What could he possibly say?
When he reached her bed, he saw that her lashes were wet, and his own eyes filled with tears in response. But she was reaching out to him with both hands. And so he caught them and held them, gently rubbing her cold fingers with his thumbs in the only gesture of comfort he could manage.
"Remus-I'm so glad you've come." Her voice was a shaky whisper, but she was smiling through her tears, a bright, eager smile.
A smile for him.
An unexpected surge of joy, like a sunbeam, or a rainbow, pierced the haze of grief that clouded his mind.
. * fin * .