#prompt 15

With this piece, I made myself actually cry (isn't that totally nuts?) with the sentiment of Ghosts POV when his precious Johnny is taken from him.

Its the second picture for the events. Find the first here.

The text above is a shortened mix of the prompts for the events @whumptober, no.12 & 18, @angstober, day 05 and 16 and @ailesswhumptober prompt 15.

I loved to work on it and how it came out! I couldn't wait any longer to show it to you. So please suffer together with me.

Stupid. He’s been stupid. If there’s one lesson his father tried to instill in him his whole life, it was how dangerous he is. And he had listened. For ten years, he had listened. And then his friends–his brilliant, kind, marvellous friends–had come to him with a solution. With animal companions, Remus would be less alone on the full moons, less likely to injure himself.

He had been hesitant at first, but it only took a few successful runs to completely forget what his father had taught him. He had been stupid, and foolish. And now James is hurt and it’s his fault, his fault, his fault–

“Moony.”

His eyes are closed, but there is a hand on his cheek, warm and gentle and wiping away the tears that Remus hadn’t even realized he had cried. The bed dips next to him, and then the hand on his cheek slides into his hair and he’s being pulled forward, into a solid chest, and James is hugging him–one-armed but still warm, still soothing. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers into his hair. Remus doesn’t believe him. Of course it’s his fault, who else’s would it be. He keeps his face hidden in James’s chest, and the other boy doesn’t try to move him. “Do you remember anything?”

For a moment, Remus doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move. And then he shakes his head. No. He doesn’t. 

James’s hand cards through his hair, his fingernails scratching gently at his scalp. Just like always, the feeling calms him, and soon, his breaths are deep and low and his eyes are dry. How James is so good at soothing him, Remus will never know. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” James repeats. “Padfoot got his foot stuck in a tree root. He kept pulling it and pulling it, but it wouldn’t budge and I was starting to worry that he was going to break a bone.” He pauses, as if to let Remus absorb what he’s told him. He still doesn’t see how James’s injuries aren’t his fault, but he doesn’t say anything. Not yet. “You were far…far enough that I thought I had time–time to get him out and shift back. But he was really stuck, and…It’s my fault. I should’ve shifted back sooner, but I panicked.”

Finally, Remus sits up, looking at James incredulously. “You shifted? You left your animagus form?”

“...Yeah,” James breathes. 

The flash of emotions that runs through Remus could be rage, or fear, or anxiety–or any combination of the three, really. Without thinking, he reaches behind him for his pillow and whacks James with it, making the other boy yelp. 

“You idiot,” Remus shouts, whacking James with the pillow again. “Years, we’ve been doing this! Years!” Again, he whacks him. “And you thought–Oh, I’ll just shift into a human with a transformed werewolf nearby. That’ll go great! What is wrong with you?” When Remus goes to hit him again, James catches the pillow with his good hand and yanks it free from his weak grip. 

“Yes, I know!” James exclaims. It’s only then that Remus realizes how his face is twisted–like he feels guilty. Well, that just won’t do. “I know it was stupid, I know I’m an idiot, I wasn’t thinking, I thought there was more time–”

Remus isn’t sure what makes him do it. Maybe it’s the adrenaline from all the fear and anger he feels, or maybe it’s the terrible look on James’s face. Maybe it’s something else entirely. Whatever the cause, Remus grabs James by the back of the neck and pulls him close, surging forward until their lips meet. 

There’s a split second where James freezes, and Remus thinks he’s made the biggest mistake of his life. But then James’s good hand comes up to slide into his hair, and he tilts his head for more room, and he kisses him back. It’s terrifying and exhilarating and beautiful all at once and Remus never wants it to end, never wants to face the conversation they’ll have after where James inevitably says, That was nice, but I’m just not interested in you like that. Sorry, Moons.

Except, when they separate, James’s guilty look has shifted into a dopey grin and his eyes are–for lack of a better word–sparkling. And what he says is not I’m just not interested. It’s, “Fucking finally.”