Need (prompt 8)
Title: Need
Author: shimotsuki
Format & Word Count: Ficlet, 1079 words
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: We'd share each other like an island / Until exhausted, close our eyelids / And dreaming, pick up from / The last place we left off-Snow Patrol and Martha Wainwright, "Set Fire To The Third Bar"
Warning: Profanity, implied intimacy. DH spoilers.
Summary: In the aftermath of a narrow escape, love surfaces as anger, relief becomes need, and desperation leads to carelessness...with far-reaching consequences.
Need
Now is not a good time to be angry. I know that. What I need is a clear head.
But I am angry. And hurt. Why the hell did Remus think he had the right to go off and do this without me? I'm a bloody Auror. This is exactly the kind of thing I'm trained for.
Especially since it's for Mad-Eye-oh, Merlin, what will the Order do without him? It was Mad-Eye's faith in me that got me through training. I loved that gruff old nutcase. Which is another reason why I will not sit at home and wait for my husband when I can be out here doing something.
"Dammit, Remus," I whisper at his silhouette as it circles overhead.
I've just Apparated back to Little Whinging, into the shadow of a quiet house one street over from Privet Drive. There are no Death Eaters here now, only scorch marks in the earth and broken branches everywhere. The narrow-minded suburbanites are going to have kittens in the morning when they see the state their gardens are in. That thought makes me laugh, just a little, even though the laughter hurts something that's knotted up tightly deep inside my chest.
Remus and Bill are flying above the neighbourhood in what looks a lot like a standard Auror search pattern. Mad-Eye probably taught it to them, I realize, and tears sting my eyes again. I don't suppose he ever imagined that the Order would use it to look for his body...
I launch my broom into the air and join the flight pattern. Bill gives me a small, tired smile when our paths cross. Remus, on the other hand, looks away, and I can see that muscle in his jaw start twitching again. I'm suddenly reminded of the last time the three of us had a mission together-the night that Dumbledore was killed, just a few weeks ago. Remus wouldn't meet my eyes then, either, but it was for a very different reason. That night, I needed him to stop denying that he wanted to be with me. Tonight, I need him to remember that we are married. We are partners. We do things together.
I force myself to stop grinding my teeth and turn my attention back to the search.
. * . * .
Two hours later, we land in a small play park and concede defeat. We've been over the entire neighbourhood three times, and there's simply no sign of Mad-Eye at all. I'm trying not to think about what that must mean, and I suspect the other two are doing the same.
Bill's expression is grim as he claps Remus on the shoulder, gives me a wordless hug, and Disapparates.
Remus still won't look at me. It hurts, so I turn away and Apparate back to my flat-our flat, now. I realize I'm grinding my teeth again.
I open the door with a little too much force, but I have to admit I'm relieved to hear the small pop in the corridor behind me that means he's come home as well. He brushes past me, and I close and lock the door. Then I wheel around and tear into him, even though-or maybe, because-he's staring out the window as though he were the only person left on earth.
"What the hell were you thinking, going off and leaving me out of the search for Mad-Eye? If anyone had a right to try to bring him home, it was me!" My hands clench around the handle of my broom, knuckles turning white, but I try not to shout; it's the middle of the night, after all. "I am an Auror. Remember? I need to be in the fight, not kept out of things."
"I-" He stops.
I wait.
The angry tension leaves his thin frame. He slumps a little, leaning his weight on his upended broomstick.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "You're right."
The knot in my chest starts to dissolve. That was something I needed to hear, and I know how hard it is for him to say it. But I wish he'd turn away from the window.
"God, Dora." His voice breaks. "George was hurt, and any one of the people turning up at the Burrow could've been an impostor-I couldn't leave Molly alone with the children-but your Portkey had come back without you, and I didn't know where you were..."
The torment in his voice is palpable. I still don't like the way he's been acting, but now I understand it a little better. I take a deep breath. "I don't want to lose you either, you prat," I mutter. "You're not the only one who was worried tonight."
For the first time in hours, he turns his head and looks at me.
His eyes are filled with raw, burning need. My heart starts to pound at the depth of that emotion, laid bare for me to see. I'm still not used to him letting himself admit that he needs me.
All at once I understand something that I've never fully appreciated before: Bearing the full weight of Remus's love is going to mean putting up with his irrational protectiveness toward what he loves.
It's worth the price.
His eyes are still burning into mine, and I realize that I've been forgetting to breathe. He drops his broom to the floor with a clatter, and mine follows, because suddenly he's wrapped me in his arms, burying his face in my hair. Then he's kissing me-frantic, desperate, pleading kisses-and his hands are everywhere. Touching my face, as if he'd forgot what I looked like. Stroking my back tenderly, then pulling me against him almost roughly. Sliding under my jumper.
I shudder, and gasp, and then my hands and kisses are desperate too.
We stumble together down the hallway to the bedroom. There, in the faint yellow glow from a street light, we prove, over and over, just how much we need each other.
. * . * .
Afterward, it's Remus who falls asleep first, with one arm wrapped around my waist-even in sleep, he won't let go. I run my fingers through his hair. A gentle smile spreads across his careworn face.
I settle my head on his shoulder, basking in his warmth, his scent. His love.
And then, just as I am drifting off to sleep myself, I'm jerked awake again by a sudden realization.
Neither one of us remembered to cast the Contraception Charm.
. * fin * .
Author: shimotsuki
Format & Word Count: Ficlet, 1079 words
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: We'd share each other like an island / Until exhausted, close our eyelids / And dreaming, pick up from / The last place we left off-Snow Patrol and Martha Wainwright, "Set Fire To The Third Bar"
Warning: Profanity, implied intimacy. DH spoilers.
Summary: In the aftermath of a narrow escape, love surfaces as anger, relief becomes need, and desperation leads to carelessness...with far-reaching consequences.
Need
Now is not a good time to be angry. I know that. What I need is a clear head.
But I am angry. And hurt. Why the hell did Remus think he had the right to go off and do this without me? I'm a bloody Auror. This is exactly the kind of thing I'm trained for.
Especially since it's for Mad-Eye-oh, Merlin, what will the Order do without him? It was Mad-Eye's faith in me that got me through training. I loved that gruff old nutcase. Which is another reason why I will not sit at home and wait for my husband when I can be out here doing something.
"Dammit, Remus," I whisper at his silhouette as it circles overhead.
I've just Apparated back to Little Whinging, into the shadow of a quiet house one street over from Privet Drive. There are no Death Eaters here now, only scorch marks in the earth and broken branches everywhere. The narrow-minded suburbanites are going to have kittens in the morning when they see the state their gardens are in. That thought makes me laugh, just a little, even though the laughter hurts something that's knotted up tightly deep inside my chest.
Remus and Bill are flying above the neighbourhood in what looks a lot like a standard Auror search pattern. Mad-Eye probably taught it to them, I realize, and tears sting my eyes again. I don't suppose he ever imagined that the Order would use it to look for his body...
I launch my broom into the air and join the flight pattern. Bill gives me a small, tired smile when our paths cross. Remus, on the other hand, looks away, and I can see that muscle in his jaw start twitching again. I'm suddenly reminded of the last time the three of us had a mission together-the night that Dumbledore was killed, just a few weeks ago. Remus wouldn't meet my eyes then, either, but it was for a very different reason. That night, I needed him to stop denying that he wanted to be with me. Tonight, I need him to remember that we are married. We are partners. We do things together.
I force myself to stop grinding my teeth and turn my attention back to the search.
. * . * .
Two hours later, we land in a small play park and concede defeat. We've been over the entire neighbourhood three times, and there's simply no sign of Mad-Eye at all. I'm trying not to think about what that must mean, and I suspect the other two are doing the same.
Bill's expression is grim as he claps Remus on the shoulder, gives me a wordless hug, and Disapparates.
Remus still won't look at me. It hurts, so I turn away and Apparate back to my flat-our flat, now. I realize I'm grinding my teeth again.
I open the door with a little too much force, but I have to admit I'm relieved to hear the small pop in the corridor behind me that means he's come home as well. He brushes past me, and I close and lock the door. Then I wheel around and tear into him, even though-or maybe, because-he's staring out the window as though he were the only person left on earth.
"What the hell were you thinking, going off and leaving me out of the search for Mad-Eye? If anyone had a right to try to bring him home, it was me!" My hands clench around the handle of my broom, knuckles turning white, but I try not to shout; it's the middle of the night, after all. "I am an Auror. Remember? I need to be in the fight, not kept out of things."
"I-" He stops.
I wait.
The angry tension leaves his thin frame. He slumps a little, leaning his weight on his upended broomstick.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "You're right."
The knot in my chest starts to dissolve. That was something I needed to hear, and I know how hard it is for him to say it. But I wish he'd turn away from the window.
"God, Dora." His voice breaks. "George was hurt, and any one of the people turning up at the Burrow could've been an impostor-I couldn't leave Molly alone with the children-but your Portkey had come back without you, and I didn't know where you were..."
The torment in his voice is palpable. I still don't like the way he's been acting, but now I understand it a little better. I take a deep breath. "I don't want to lose you either, you prat," I mutter. "You're not the only one who was worried tonight."
For the first time in hours, he turns his head and looks at me.
His eyes are filled with raw, burning need. My heart starts to pound at the depth of that emotion, laid bare for me to see. I'm still not used to him letting himself admit that he needs me.
All at once I understand something that I've never fully appreciated before: Bearing the full weight of Remus's love is going to mean putting up with his irrational protectiveness toward what he loves.
It's worth the price.
His eyes are still burning into mine, and I realize that I've been forgetting to breathe. He drops his broom to the floor with a clatter, and mine follows, because suddenly he's wrapped me in his arms, burying his face in my hair. Then he's kissing me-frantic, desperate, pleading kisses-and his hands are everywhere. Touching my face, as if he'd forgot what I looked like. Stroking my back tenderly, then pulling me against him almost roughly. Sliding under my jumper.
I shudder, and gasp, and then my hands and kisses are desperate too.
We stumble together down the hallway to the bedroom. There, in the faint yellow glow from a street light, we prove, over and over, just how much we need each other.
. * . * .
Afterward, it's Remus who falls asleep first, with one arm wrapped around my waist-even in sleep, he won't let go. I run my fingers through his hair. A gentle smile spreads across his careworn face.
I settle my head on his shoulder, basking in his warmth, his scent. His love.
And then, just as I am drifting off to sleep myself, I'm jerked awake again by a sudden realization.
Neither one of us remembered to cast the Contraception Charm.
. * fin * .