Bewitched | wolfstar au

Ninety-two

Remus blinks. He wants to say something, but he's not sure what he can.

"I know it's not enough, but I... I wanted to apologize," Lyall says. Suddenly, he looks so much older in Remus' eyes.

"Dad," Remus says. He's not ready for this conversation.

He probably won't ever be.

"No, I... I wasn't a good father to you,"

He's wrong. He wasn't a father to Remus at all. But Remus stays quiet. The sooner this conversation is done with, the sooner he can go back to Sirius. And as heartless as that may make Remus seem, he's tired and his back is hurting and all he wants is to fall asleep.

"It's fine," he eventually says when Lyall doesn't continue. "I'm... It's in the past,"

"It's not fine, son," Lyall says, "I know it's not. I've missed out on everything in your life, and—"

"Well, I can't go back in time and be a better son to you, dad," Remus snaps, "If I could, the first thing I'd do is not turn into a monster."

Ever since he was a child, Remus has hated raising his voice. It's not the act in itself that's uncomfortable, but the heavy silence left in the wake of harsh words. He swallows, suddenly regretting everything he's just said.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, fists curling at his sides. "I didn't mean to... I'm sorry, dad."

Lyall shakes his head. "You're not a monster," he says, voice wavering. Remus looks up.

"Werewolves are not monsters?" He almost laughs at the absurdity. "That's not what you told the Prophet all those years ago,"

Lyall looks pained. "I was wrong, Remus. I was so wrong. And I'm so sorry,"

Remus doesn't want his sorry. It's twelve years too late for that. He clenches his fists tighter, trying to fight his tears back.

"None of it was your fault," Lyall says. "You've always been the best son I could've asked for,"

"Then why did you always act like you were ashamed of me?" Remus whispers.

Lyall looks startled. "Is that what you think?" He asks. "That I'm ashamed of you?"

Remus bites his lip because he's afraid he's going to cry. Who wouldn't be ashamed to have a monster for a son?

"I was ashamed," Lyall says, and it sends a dagger through Remus' heart. "But not of you, Remus. I was ashamed of myself, for letting you get hurt. Every time I saw your face, I could only think of how I'd ruined your life,"

"My life is not ruined," Remus replies.

"I know that now," Lyall smiles. Somehow, Remus thinks he looks sadder that way. "It took me a long time to realize that, and I wish I could've seen it sooner. You've come so far, and I'm so proud of you, Remus."

Remus feels his vision blur. He's never heard those words before. And he's not entirely sure if he deserves to. Twenty-two years old and he's living rent-free at someone else's place and dusting bookshelves for a living. And even that's because a pair of brothers and a century-old woman took pity on him.

"Don't cry, Remus," Lyall says softly. Remus wipes at his cheeks, only now realizing it.

"If you feel sorry for me, you don't have to," Remus says shakily. "I'm fine. Everything's fine, I just... You don't have to do this."

"You're my son," Lyall repeats. "I want to do this," he says. "I care about you, you know that."

"No," Remus laughs breathlessly. He wipes his face once more, feeling the thick ridges of his scars under the back of his hand. "I don't know that, dad. You've hardly given me reason to believe that."

Lyall sighs. "Remus," he says slowly, like he's trying to get a five-year-old to stop throwing a tantrum. "I know I've failed you in a lot of ways," he says carefully, "But if you're willing to... I'd really like to work things out with you, son. I've missed out on a lot, and I've decided it's enough." He frowns before quickly adding, "That is, if you want to. If you think I deserve it."

Remus shoves his hands in his pockets. What is he supposed to say?

"Okay," he mutters eventually. Lyall looks surprised. "Really?" He asks, looking mildly—and justifiably—dubious. Remus shrugs. "Not like I have anything to lose," he says dryly.

Lyall either doesn't catch his tone, or isn't fazed by it. "Thank you," he smiles. Remus shrugs again. "Sure, dad," he mumbles. "I'm gonna go back to bed, now," he says.

"Wait, Remus," Lyall stops him. Again. Remus has to hold back a groan. Couldn't Lyall choose to have a heartfelt talk on some other day than one on the verge of a full moon?

"Can I give you a hug?"

Remus chokes on his own breath. Lyall gave him a hug in the morning, but that's probably because he was thinking that Remus was dead, or something. If not for that, it's got to be at least a decade since his father hugged him. "Uh," he stammers, "sure, dad."

An awkward and fortunately very short-lived embrace later, Remus finally gets to leave. He practically runs inside Sirius' room.

Sirius is still asleep. He's all curled up under the blankets, knees against his stomach. It makes Remus smile. He wipes his face again, just in case, and climbs into bed behind Sirius. Ignoring the pain in his back, he then wraps and arm around Sirius, pressing his face into Sirius' shoulder. He feels Sirius stir.

Exhausted both physically and otherwise, Remus finds himself falling asleep almost immediately. And just before his eyes fall shut, he feels Sirius take his hand, and press a small kiss on its back.

***

Author's Note

It's not the fact that I don't have time to write, it's that I wrote this like 293949 times and still am not happy with it :(