He knew it was utterly selfish, but the severity of 'war' didn't quite hit Remus until Caradoc Dearborn disappeared.
It was February, nearly seven months since he'd attended his first Order meeting. Things were ramping up significantly and people were scared, members of the Order not excluded. Even Moody had been keeping his scathing sarcasm to a minimum, too busy looking over his shoulder and barely getting a wink of sleep as he tore himself apart trying to save what lives he could.
Remus had now been out in the field multiple times — so many he'd lost count. The lives he couldn't save, which haunted him at first, had now faded into a blurry, desensitized background. Death seemed to be an inevitable new feature in his life. It was all around him ... muggles, wizards, men, women, children ...
But when Caradoc disappeared, an Order member that Remus had grown fond of over the past months, Remus realized that the seemingly impenetrable walls of their organization were not as fortified as he'd allowed himself to believe.
They'd been lucky — extremely lucky — so far. Impossible missions had gone in their favour. Injuries, while plentiful, had been relatively minor: broken bones, deep cuts — nothing magic couldn't fix.
This, unfortunately, gave Remus a false sense of security. 'Fortune favours the bold'— isn't that how the saying went? They were untouchable because they were heroes, and in all of the books he'd read over the years, the heroes came out on top. There would be civilian casualties, of course, but he quickly learned to live with that — as horrible as it sounded.
But what if The Order's fortune was drying up? What if they were vulnerable to the same fate as those they desperately tried to save?
He'd ignored these thoughts for as long as he could. He pretended it simply wasn't an option. But now, as he found his face hovering above a toilet, upheaving his breakfast, the reality knocked around his skull and constricted his throat with barbed fingers.
James could die. Sirius could die. Peter could die. Lily could die. Neoma could die. Alice, Frank, Dorcas, Marlene, Moody, Kingsley, Fabian, Gideon, Edgar Bones and his new baby, maybe even Dumbledore...there were more on the list, but his brain couldn't focus on just one person.
James, Sirius, and Peter flashed behind his eyelids the most, mangled to an unrecognizable point, or just staring emptily at the ceiling, gone, hit by the curse that they'd managed to evade so, so many times.
Neoma: pretty eyes torn from her skull, or neck broken, or bleeding out somewhere dark and cold and alone.
Lily: tortured cruelly for her blood status before they finally put her out of her misery. They would keep her around as a trophy of sorts until her body was gray and rotted.
How had he kept these thoughts — these fears — buried for so long? Now that they'd seeped into his conscious mind, he was scared they would never stop. His body shook as bile tore through his throat again.
He'd returned from a rescue three hours ago. The Lahey family — consisting of a witch mother, muggle father, and six children, ranging from three months to ten years of age — was evacuated from their home just twenty minutes before it was attacked on all sides by vicious bolts of fiendfyre.
The high Remus had felt from rescuing eight people crashed around him when he realized that Caradoc hadn't returned.
It had only been the two of them that were dispatched to help the Laheys; evacuations often went smoothly, so they felt no need for backup when Neoma frantically sent a patronus warning them of the attack. She'd been on another mission when she overheard the malevolent plot, coming straight from the loud mouth of Bellatrix Lestrange.
Remus and Caradoc apparated the family away, taking two at a time. Caradoc had the last two - the mother and father - and then they would be done. Mission accomplished.
But Caradoc never appeared, and neither did Mr. or Mrs. Lahey. Remus apparated back to their house after forty minutes, not quite in the right state of mind, only to find himself standing 100 meters away from a roaring fire, reducing a once-happy home to ash. He was lucky he didn't apparate directly into the flames.
Each passing hour felt like an eternity. The wailing of babies and toddlers and the sniffles of the older children, who tried to shush their younger siblings as tears welled in their own frightened eyes, pierced Remus's ears.
Caradoc had become a frequent companion on Remus's assignments. The men worked well together; Caradoc was forty-two, an old friend of Moody's. Caradoc had saved Remus's life many times, and vice-versa. His wife had been afflicted with lycanthropy, but died six years ago, and Remus found comfort in hearing Caradoc speak about her so fondly. It made him hopeful. Maybe after all of this was over, he'd have a chance at happiness. Maybe he wasn't destined for a loveless existence like he thought.
But that wishful thinking died the second he sent his patronus to Dumbledore, a wolf relaying the message of: "Caradoc never returned. It's been three hours. He is either dead or captured."
Remus didn't care much for his life, but if he were to survive this, he couldn't fathom it without his friends. If Caradoc could disappear so quickly, without warning, then so could they.
And a chance at post-war happiness in the form of romance? Now he recoiled at the thought, images of Neoma's spilled blood ruining that concept entirely.
He had real feelings for Neoma. He'd come to terms with that nasty fact over a glass of whiskey four months prior, after he'd seen her playing around with Fred and George; a peaceful, domestic moment interrupting an otherwise chaotic and miserable existence. And then Gideon came into the room and she stood there with him and they laughed and it looked as if Fred and George could be theirs. Jealousy twisted his gut to the point that he had to leave.
Even before he acknowledged that he had more than a little schoolboy crush on her, he'd still been keeping her at arm's length. She continued to be kept in the dark of his lycanthropy because Remus was terrified of her rejection, doubly so when he realized that he could see a future with her — the first person to have ever unlocked such unfathomable fantasies from his mind.
A gentle touch on his back snapped him from his spiraling thoughts. A concerned voice, muffled by the fog clouded over his mind, called out to him. And then, in a sudden rush of lucidity, Remus realized that it was Neoma who had knelt down next to him, a concerned expression awash her features.
"I came as soon as I could," she breathed. Remus blinked slowly, shock still blanketing his body. "Bellatrix and Antonin got away. I came here right after. Dumbledore sent me something cryptic - something about your mission going wrong ... it wasn't clear if you were okay, but he said that Caradoc ... is it true? Is he gone?"
Remus shoved her away and stood on shaky legs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Neoma's eyes widened with hurt at his reaction, and she was taken aback by his physical dismissal of her.
The silence was deafening as he turned on the faucet and cupped water into his mouth, swishing it around to try to remove the acrid taste. He tried to ignore Neoma's presence — he couldn't deal with her right now. Not after coming to terms with the fact that she could cease to exist at any moment.
And with that reminder came another flood of imaginary, gory images of James, Sirius, and Peter's deaths. Suddenly he was pushing past Neoma yet again and falling onto his knees, though he seemed to have already expelled everything he possibly could. Instead he just gagged and coughed until his throat felt as if it had been consumed by the very fiendfyre that Caradoc may have perished in.
A hand ran down his back. Remus tensed.
"Can I do anything?" Neoma whispered. "I want to help you, Remus. Just tell me what to do. You're worrying me."
"I need to talk to Dumbledore," he finally rasped out, avoiding her gaze. "I need to find Caradoc."
"Remus—"
"If he's out there, I have to find him. I can't just give up. He might not be dead."
"B—"
"Just shut up, alright? I'm gonna find Dumbledore. He'll understand."
Remus couldn't look at her. He knew he was being mean, but it seemed like the only thing to do at the moment. Neoma was being too kind, too gentle; she was being herself, and Remus hated her for it. It was just making things worse.
"Fine." Neoma sniffed, rising up from the ground and crossing her arms. "Whatever, Remus."
With that she was gone, and Remus felt like he could breathe again.
★★★★★★★
"Jesus mate, I'm glad you're alright," James sighed, tension leaving his posture once he saw Remus standing in his doorway. "No one's heard from you in three fucking days."
"Yeah. Sorry." Remus shuffled past him and took a noncommittal glance around the Potter's foyer. "Is Sirius around?"
"He's with Neoma."
"Why?"
"Took her to dinner."
Remus's jaw clenched. "Why?"
James rolled his eyes. "Maybe 'cause you were a right prick to her. Or maybe 'cause they're friends. It's none of my business."
Deciding to drop the subject, Remus ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with James. "Um...Lily? She's alright, right?"
"Yeah, she's fine. Upstairs, actually." James narrowed his eyes. "What's up with you? You're acting real weird, Moony."
"Any clue where Dumbledore is? I've been trying to contact him. I think I found a clue about where Caradoc could have gone. I went back to the Lahey's last night, and the long grass they keep in the back was pressed down, like people were walking on it—"
"You went back there?"
"Well, yeah, I—"
"I'm getting Moody over here," James grumbled. "He'll know what to do with you. Something's off — Neoma was right."
"What — so I'm not allowed to care? I'm not allowed to try to find one of our ow—"
"You can care, but you can't let yourself get stupid about it. You look like you haven't slept in years, mate. Let me have Finnsey make you some food."
"I don't want to eat, I want to—"
"Remus!" Lily entered the room, a bright smile on her face, though it fell once she took in her friend's state. "Um...you alright?"
"Go bring him to the kitchen, Lils," James pulled his wand from his pocket, letting out a heavy puff of air. "I'm getting Moody over here."
★★★★★★★
"Pissing your friends away isn't the thing you wanna be doing right now, Lupin," Moody advised, running a tired hand over his scarred face. "You're lucky I had to meet with Black tonight or I would have just ignored Potter's plea for a ... a goddamn psychologist and let you go sabotage your relationships."
"I'm fine. I just seem to be the only person who cares about Caradoc —"
"What did you just say?" Moody snapped. "You listen to me Lupin, and you listen to me good. I've seen this before and you've gotta snap out of it. This is gonna get worse before it gets better. Caradoc is gone, alright? G-O-N-E - gone. I have known that wanker for almost thirty years now, and fuck, do I wish he were coming back, but he's gone. And you don't see me dragging everyone through shit just 'cause I'm sad." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "This war business is not for the faint-hearted. I guess you know that now. No more smiles and giggles and rainbows for you, Lupin — only hard facts. People are gonna die. You might die, I might die, Potter might die, yadda yadda. It could happen one at a time, or all at once. And you know what? Nothing's gonna change that."
Remus clenched his jaw. He could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill, but he tried his best to maintain his wilting composure.
"So you've gotta decide if you're gonna push them away 'cause you're a selfish prick, or if you're gonna be the friend they need. 'Cause I swear to Merlin if I hear Nott bitch about you one more time, I'm gonna leave you all and go pimp myself out to Voldemort. You told her to shut up after she tried helping you? What is wrong with you? And worse — she came to me about it? Like I'm some fucking love guru?"
After a few quiet beats, Moody scoffed at Remus's lack of a response. "I do my best to keep you kids far the fuck away from me, yet every other minute one of youse are looking for someone to hold your hand. Fuckin' masochists. Am I not mean enough? Do I have to step up my game? I swear to it, I'm done. But since I'm already here wasting my breath on deaf ears: I get it Lupin, I really do. And you're not alone, 'cause Kingsley just had a breakdown last week and he's been in the game longer than you. Hell - I have a breakdown myself every time I take a shit. We're all in hell, and we've all gotta deal with it. But don't think for a second that distancing yourself from people will make it any easier. Because it won't. Trust me."
Remus couldn't bring himself to look at the auror, so he simply kept his gaze trained on his shoes. He gave a fraction of a nod to signal that he'd heard Moody's words.
"Body or not, we're sending Caradoc off on Tuesday in the proper way. Be there or don't — see if I care."
★★★★★★★
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...I'm back!!! Sorry for the long wait; I'm a busy lady who also suffers from long stretches of writer's block.
This was a bit of a different chapter for me, but I feel like it was important for the propulsion of the plot, plus some character development on Remus's part. Things only get more angsty from here, my friends. Buckle in.
Comments are the best way to fuel my inspiration ;) How are we liking the representation of the characters so far? Any predictions?