swim || remus lupin

two of us

"Let's go find her, yeah?" I said quietly.

Remus only nodded.

Three doors down on the left. That's where Hope and Lyall slept.

"Just three doors down on the left, if you need us!"

She said the words every night I had stayed with them. Every night, without fail. And I never once took her up on the offer. Why would I? I had Remus, I was fine.

But, when I stepped into the dark and empty room, I wished I had pretended to need her, just once.

I suppose 'empty' isn't the right word to use. The bedroom was cluttered, like the rest of the house. The floor had piles of clothes, the bureaus had piles of books, the bedside table had piles of empty dishes. But the feeling of hopelessness and the air of depression that coursed through me with my first entering step washed me free of all happiness. So, yeah, it felt pretty empty.

Hope was lying stiffly under her covers, taking up such a tiny portion of such a large bed. She was generally a small woman, sure, but now she seemed entirely vacant of all the larger-than-life traits she once exhibited. Her eyes did not crinkle, her smile did not sparkle, and she did not shine.

"Remus," she croaked with false joy. But she was not happy to see him. She did not want him to see her. She had lied.

Remus let out a ragged breath and I looked up to find that his stone-like state had shattered, that he had shattered.

He dropped my hand and moved swiftly to her side, cupping her small, pale face in his hands.

"What's happened?" He mustered.

"Don't worry, dear," said Hope in a tiny voice that was not nearly as airy or light as it once was. "It'll be alright."

And I knew, and Remus knew, she was lying.

"Sydney," she smiled, reaching a frail hand in my direction.

I realized then that I had become a statue of my own, frozen in place, watching Remus fade into his mother's diminishing light.

I took a small breath and walked to stand beside Remus, taking her outstretched hand in mine.

"You think I'm being untruthful," she said to Remus. "But I'm not."

"I don't-"

"You think it will not be alright," and now she looked to me. "But it will... You, dear, have done far more than I ever could have hoped."

My mouth opened slightly, searching for something to say, but I, too, seemed to be spinning away.

"I haven't-"

"You have," she insisted. "You have shown my son nothing but love. A love that has made me certain that everything will be alright."

She turned back to Remus just in time to catch a tear that had slipped down his cheek.

"Everything will be alright, my love," she promised.

Hope asked for Remus to give her a minute alone with me and my heart dropped. I wasn't prepared for a minute alone. I wasn't prepared for a goodbye. I was prepared to comfort Remus through his, but not to hear one of my own.

There had never been a goodbye before.

"Sit," she said, using far too much effort to slide over the slightest bit. "Please."

I did. Of course I did.

She had both hands over mine now and her eyes were imploring mine in the same way that her son's did. Only this time I wasn't drowning, I was merely suffocating.