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noxturnalmoth · 2 days ago

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What Could Have Been

Silco, the Eye of Zaun, the Industrialist, was first and foremost a son of Zaun who wanted his motherland free. After an altercation in which his adopted daughter shot him in a fit of rage, he is left dying while the world goes on without him. His life's work and ideals soon trampled to nothing as his memory fades from the world. But what if he was saved?

Chapter 5: Children of Zaun

That night was strange. It had been nearly a decade since you shared a living space with someone yes, yet you adapted, but with Silco in your bed you felt restless. Not that his presence was making you uncomfortable, you just have never been so close to someone during this vulnerable moment, and if you had to choose you'd rather your partner be Silco than anyone else. And although you two had entered a rhythm, the boundary of sharing a sleeping space was never crossed, which made everything feel all the more intimate and domestic after the heart to heart the both of you shared that evening. Yet this was the best choice, you had left Silco your bed for months so he could heal and have a private space, then he gave if back to you so you could rest from your hectic life and dealt with the pain of couch rest until now, you two definitely deserved good rest without compromises.

You also feared that you'd be a bad bed partner due to your nightmares, thrashing, sweating and mumbling in your dreams before waking up with a scream. So, with you back turned to him you faced the wall, eyes wide open as you try to make sure he can rest, breath muted, your fidgeting body calmed.

"Rest."

"I can't."

Silco shifts, turning towards you before his hand takes the blanket covering you both and tucked it beneath your chin.

"Is this about your nightmares?"

So he knew, you nod. Just like you knew about his, bated breaths welcoming you from your nightly rebellion that led you up the stairs only to find him thrashing in your bed, not knowing what to do other than to softly lend him words of support as he slept before going to crash on the couch yourself. It happened many times, yet you didn't find it in yourself to ask, yet now that you knew the reason behind his nightmares you found the courage.

"You haven't been sleeping either, have you?"

"Not used to the proximity."

"Me neither.." You yawn out, exhausted but unable to sleep. "But I don't know what to do."

And you turn towards him, your eyes finding his in the dark and you huff out a small laugh, a sigh of his own heard harmonizing with you.

"Something I used to do when Jinx couldn't fall asleep was to brush her hair with my fingers."

"That's adorable."

"And it was all that could calm her down along with staying near me, sleeping on the couch in my office or in my bed if I went to sleep."

"That's even more adorable." He smacks your cheek gently to chastise you. "So what...I'll do yours and you do mine?"

"I'm going on the couch."

"No!" You shuffle as he does, catching his wrists in your hands and he huffs. "I can't let my favourite senior citizen hurt his back, who will help me at the shop if you're not here?"

His hand suddenly rests heavily on your hair and ruffles it, making you kick and smack at him weakly to "fight back".

"I'll be the last senior citizen you know if you keep that up, birdie."

"Birdie? I'm just a weak little fuckass bird?"

He chuckles. "Yes. I could've put it more elegantly, but your words have more impact I fear." And you laugh along, settling in a more comfortable position again, as does he with his hand still on your head.

Yours slowly reached up to his. Hand raking through the softer, wavier and longer strands, much more healthy than they had been when he first came in and with a bit more silver swirling in the ink black hair. His hand begins to move in similar patterns, scratching at your scalp softly, your eye drooping at the comfort of the warmth and motion, heart fluttering warmly at the ministrations.

"Shit, it might just work."

"Once more, goes to prove you're still just a kid." His voice teases, lowly and slowly as if your touch got him sleepy too, yet as you yawn and he chuckles, you can't help but feel like he's holding out better than you.

"Bite me gramps." Another yawn forces itself out of your mouth, eyes unable to open even if you wanted them to. And it wasn't long before you fell into deep sleep, your hand in his hair stilling, and when you awake due to a nightmare so does he from your movement. His hand back to caressing your hair, an arm around you to bring you to his chest, his warmth and movement making the paintful visions and sounds ebb away as it plunges you back into sleep. Yet as you wake up the next morning snuggling up to Silco, you realize he hasn't taken your hand away from his hair, and your arms from around him, his in the same place as they were when you first woke up.

"Who knew you were a cuddler?"

"Shit, my bad Silco." You take yourself away and shuffle back a bit in bed, refusing to leave its comfort yet creating a bit of distance between you and your friend.

Friend.

He is your friend. Him, Silco. Last night's memories are enough to have you purse your lips in order to hide a small smile. The soft voices talking of darkness in the silent evening, Piltover's lights overseeing you two from afar. The cold water freezing you from your legs to your head as you walk in the river and dip yourself, your proximity to Silco providing a bit of warmth to counter the bite of the Pilt. The soft laughs and banter shared on the way back, as if that baptism has truly shed your friend of his past like a snake stuck in his own skin finally freeing itself. In a way, you felt like a changed woman aswell, a lot of the doubts you felt around Silco now gone, replaced by the velvety smooth feeling of something new within your heart, the empty space left behind by the world now filled with one single thing.

Friendship.

Warm and beautiful like the soft crackling of flames. You hoped he felt the same, but with how his lips pursed similar to yours and his eye crinkled on its side, you knew he did. Albeit that domestic moment and the soft yet unfamiliar feeling of a blossoming friendship made last day worth it, after the strike team visited Zaun you knew things would only get worse.

And indeed, they did.

Within the span of two weeks enforcer outposts had been put in each level of Zaun, forcing people to identify themselves in order to pass through. Walls were put up to separate zones and neighborhoods, and small enforcer stations were around the corners of each important sector. Enforcers were ruthless and violent, now aided with Noxian soldiers around each corner, their cruelty knowing no limit. Their policies, or rather Piltover's policies, were thoroughly carved into Zaun and people quickly grew restless.

Your already limited freedom had been all but destroyed.

Clients had said Caitlyn Kiramman was at the head of all of this, Mel Medarda nowhere to be seen yet her mother Ambessa stoking the flames of war. Appearing everywhere a conflict was and somehow always making the best of it. It was not that surprising as she was Noxian, yet something foul felt at play here, it reeked of opportunism and schemes.

Speaking of schemes, more people came in with information, desperate to have someone do something about the growing injustice and civil unrest, and you were but one woman. And after a couple of months, you found yourself preparing to go for yet another restless night.

"Let me join you."

You turn around, coat in hand as you're about to leave to wreak some havok on some of the navy collared wardens that invaded your home. Your head tilts and eyebrows furrow at him in question.

"You've been leaving earlier and coming back later, working then fighting. I help you plan but you're all alone in those missions otherwise, so let me help."

"You want to fight?"

"Yes. When have I stopped fighting? The combat was just a different one, and now my friend needs me and I can't let her run herself into the ground." He puts his own coat on, sauntering towards you before unlocking the door, a hand splayed on the small of your back to make you move forward, the warmth sipping through your clothes and into your skin and making your stomach flutter. "Let's go, we've got some mayhem to cause, birdie."

You scoff, yet a smile grew on your face at his words. "Sure thing, fossil."

You two slipped in the streets, one with the shadows and silent like an owl's flight.

"What do you plan on doing then?"

"Explode barrels all around the entire zone to make enforcers leave their posts. Pillage their stations of important files, break their weapons, and leave them with a little gift." You reach into your bag for a grenade. "We'd link that to a trip wire. I took a page from your daughter's proverbial book and made a color bomb."

His eye widens and his lips purse as he swallows, his hands cradling and tracing the object.

"Why?"

"Well she's pretty good at pissing people off, and she's also your daughter. I guess I wanted to kinda remind you of her, pay homage."

His lips twitch for a millisecond and the corner of his eye softens.

"It stains indefinitely." You say maliciously, your voice dropping to a conspiratory whisper as you get closer to him. "And it's a stink bomb."

His chest jumps as he silences a laugh, the cold ocean of his teal iris warmed by mirth.

"Unwashable?"

"Oh they'll need to burn their uniforms and order new ones to get rid of the color and stench. Picked blood red, for symbolism."

He nods, smirking at you from his shoulder and you two separate, lighting bins on fire and shooting guns in dark alleyways to call forth the attention of enforcers, slipping past them. On your path you find yourself surrounded by a handful of Noxian soldiers, their armors thick red riddled with cracks, their stance strong yet too rigid against a Zaunite fighter such as yourself. Silco climbs up a gutter to get access to a roof as you get ready, stance low before you lunge at them like a feral animal, flipping and bouncing between them and the walls, delivering kicks and punches as you make them exhaust themselves. Their thick armors slowing them, and yet they have grazed you a few times with their blades, bruises blooming where they grabbed and hit you, they were indeed fearless and strong. With a few well placed kicks and punches you find yourself disarming one of them, the huge knuckle knifes knocked out of their hands, and you smirk while picking them up as you've found yourself turning the wheel in your favor. The weapons were hefty and could slice through bone, the blades half your height, and their power sensed from only wielding them. But as the enemy approached you had to stop admiring the craftsmanship and get back into position, the blades creating sparks as you ran at your adversaries. Each hit and slash given now had their strength multiplied, the heft of the knives and knuckles giving you extra speed on downward attacks aswell as more weight behind each attack, the blades helping with defence and offence as the knuckles were of aid to break their own weapons, disarm and deliver punches that rattled the big suits of armor. After a while, and although you were battered and bruised, you smiled and motionned to Silco that the way was clean, the man's eye widened as he raked his hand in his hair. Groaning as he realized his hair was not short anymore and redid the half bun he made to keep his short bob away, the same strands escaping the updo to lay on his left side in some sort of half bangs.

"Not used to the long hair anymore?"

"It has been close to a decade since I last had it this long." His arms cross in front of his chest.

"And why did you let it grow? Change of style?" He shrugged nonchalantly before kicking at one of the dead bodies laying on the ground.

"I suppose. A reminder of my youth perhaps?" He crouches, picking a weapon and huffing at the weight muttering about how unpractical it was before looking over his shoulder. "Are you complaining?" You furrow your eyebrows, mouth moving to open before he gets back up, sauntering towards you with a smirk. "Because I remember you saying that I'd look 'hot' with my hair long."

You groan, pushing at his shoulder before placing your newfound weapons in your belts on each side of your hips. "Prick."

"Keep on telling yourself that, my dove."

You started to walk away, stomach fluttering and face warm as you hurried the both of you to the station. You both arrive there, ridding yourselves of the couple of enforcers left in the station before beginning your heist.

"What are we looking for?" Silco was looking through a file cabinet while you were reading reports and notebooks at the sargent's desk.

"Plans for attacks, next orders, interesting observations, blackmail fuel...anything that feels right." And with that he nods and silence overtakes you two, the only sounds being drawers pulled open and close and pages turned. Books, files, schematics and such stuffed in your bad before you detonate a shrapnel grenade in the armory, the tripwire stain grenade set from the inside before you escaped through the window.

Sitting on a roof far away, panting softly, you hear the huge explosion, blood red smoke escaping the station while people around gather in shock and horror. Soon enough the screams of terror were replaced by disgusted wretching from the enforcers, not used to the smell of condensed sump water, chemicals and rotten food. A smell that wasn't all too uncommon here in Zaun. And as you begin snickering you lay on your back, looking at the metal sky now dyed red with smoke, its tendrils reaching high as if to touch Piltover.

"Wanna do more?" You ask, voice uneven and eyes trailing to a smiling Silco, teeth visible and eye scrunched in amusement and something much softer that made your heart pinch just a little.

"You don't even have to ask, my friend."

And so your night and many others were spent sabotaging stations. Your ministrations moving to outposts soon enough. The same gut wrenching acrid, rot smells and blood red staining the map at different spots, metal fences and stations looking like they were doused in blood. And metaphorically they were as you stained more of the town red, you were dying enforcers with the color of your people's blood, the trenchers that have been persecuted and ruined by the elite under their gilded rule. The gold too pure to rot yet beneath the surface it was festering like a wound that would never close, a wound that they'd inflict over Zaun so that it feels the weight of Piltover's power, so that it takes the blame for its sister's corruption. And as months passed, your influence grew, both you and Silco working in perfect tandem to not only provide for your fellow Zaunite, but also to attack the enemy. Using the information head in the street or from clients and neighbors aswell as the stolen files, you two become sharper, more vicious, yet keep the same vigilence and accuracy in all of your excursions. The ever growing civil unrest fueling your fire as you hear more and more people praising your work, the rebellion that you had feared would take over Silco again was bringing you two closer and making you work better than ever. He imparted his wisdom, his knowledge of all about Zaun to you while you made weapons and other trinkets that would help in missions and fought off the Noxians getting in your way, the both of you sharing brain and brawn equally to tire the Piltovan forces, exhaust them mentally, make them unstable and messy.

Your paths and planning were always randomized so that the enforcers would never catch onto you, and as time passed you would see more red smoke than your own each nights, the smell as horrid as your own bombs. So sometimes you wouldn't even work in sabotaging enforcers again, you'd watch the Sump and Entresol burst in red smoke from the rooftop of your appartment building, a tumbler of whiskey in hand as you read and annotate the files you stole. During the day you'd hear whispers about the Children of Zaun coming back when the Undercity needed them the most, the name making Silco freeze yet after looking at him and observing a nostalgic and profoundly sad look in his eye, he smiled. His eye shut as he shook his head, the small huff of a laugh leaving his nose. And after a month or two of observing, you even followed those people, tailing them unbenknownst to them and watching them work. You two would be taking note of every different rebel working as a copycat, how they moved, how much time they took and their paths until you delivered all of them a note at each and every one of their domiciles.

You have been helping us fight the good fight against Piltover's elitist law.

Under this cruel dictature you've fought alongside us.

Rejoice, for your work has us admirative at your loyalty just like ours made you admirative at our rebellion.

Let us keep fighting the good fight, Children of Zaun, together.

We hope you turn to look at the Old Hungry tonight, and that you'll feel pride at how hard we've been fighting for our independance.

By that time six months had passed since the Kiramman rule was instored in the Sister cities. Jinx posters were everywhere, people admiring her and painting her as a hero both figuratively and literally, her fans even calling themselves Jinxers, creating a sense of community while Piltover tried to enforce the opposite. Just like yours called themselves by the name of the oldest and strongest rebellion movement of Zaun. It was strange, hearing excited whispers at your work, the rebellion you helped begin. Years of working towards this couldn't have prepared you less as the warm feeling within your chest at how proud you were of seeing your people gain the courage to fight back, to ally themselves to each other against the common enemy.

That night, the rooftops arbored about two dozen of people, watching Silco and you's latest heist at the Old Hungry, one of Zaun's iconic landmarks, the clocktower bursting in red, foul smelling smoke while slips of paper rained from the sky. The tower had been taken over by enforcers at the beginning of their occupation yet you had to divert their attention, tire them to make sure you could pull the operation off. And as elated screams flooded the streets and rooftops, you looked down, the Children of Zaun looking up at you with teary eyes. They were teens and young adults, not tired enough from Piltover's tortured, and pissed enough to wake up from the cycle plunging their people further in the dark day by day. They were smiling proudly, eyes misty and wet, their left fists held to their temple and the right one over their hearts.

The Zaunite salute.

The one that enforcers prohibited any Zaunite to do for decades upon decades, the one that the old Children of Zaun used as a salute. And they were doing it, to Silco and you. With your own heart beating like a Noxian drum, lungs expanding and deplating quickly and eyes stinging with unshed tears you turned to look at Silco. He had taken his eyepatch away, shaky breaths leaving his lips as he looked at the sight before him, then he too turned towards you with his good eye widened and misty, lips pulled in the softest of smiles, his now long hair in a ponytail and the strands of hair framing his face floating in the breeze. Your heart beat faster at the sight, he looked positively breathtaking. The years of pain suddenly erased from his face and leaving nothing but youthful hope and soft joy.

"They..They see us as heroes Silco."

"They do."

And a smile slices your face, the biggest smile you've produced in years or maybe ever in your life. Teeth exposed, tears falling down your face as your left fist knocks against your temple, right hand over your heart.

"Remember where you're from! Rejoice in your origins! Fight for your freedom! And look back in pride at your hard work!"

Silco, whom you've never heard raise his voice, was in position too, his voice carrying a heaviness he's been dealing with for decades. Alleviating now that his people are awake, now that he isn't lost anymore within his own darkness, now that the world is moving. Because no matter how dreary it can get, Silco someway, somehow never lets go of his love for his people and his hope for a better future. It has motivated him all his life, and now that his mind and heart were clear, the flame has been tended and stoked back into a roaring blaze. And his roar of hope made your heart flutter in the similar way that has been happening more and more often around him. Melting at his passion, at his patience, at everything that he was.

The Children came by the shop, giving you all the files they got, talking to you and ordering whatever it was they needed. Since making groups after dark was risked, they'd trickle in slowly to the shop, pass informations to you two aswell as each other. And as time passed, the crew grew, more and more people joined under you and Silco's kind, protective wing, leading them to a rebellion that would chip away at the enemy's will, their sanity, their health and their patience. The town was painted in beautiful shades, blue from the Jinxers, painting walls and posters; while the Children of Zaun dyed outposts and stations red and the Firelights left their green symbols to guide whoever needed refuge to their hidden haven. The three creating an harmony in the midst of the chaos they cause, Jinxers visiting you with blueprints for machines and tools they'd need as much as your own team. Firelights coming to you for help in bettering the lives of those taken under their wing with different tools and contraptions. Understanding Silco was the one that raised and created the one the Jinxers followed, and following him and you by proxy while their own leader was gone as the Sumpers followed you, still bitter and angry about Silco's old occupation yet growing more used to him and friendlier as time went. The fear they felt at seeing Silco subsiding into quiet admiration, seeing him now for who he is, understanding who he was before, and appreciating who he was even before that.

The forefather of Zaunite rebellion.

Ten months had passed by now, enforcers tired and losing their grip on Zaun while Piltover sent more of them down, trying to keep their steel like dictatorship to crush and bind you yet failing miserably to contain the growing rebellion bubbling beneath the skin of the Undercity. Noxian guard dogs imposing more and more violence yet you fought them still, their blood staining your hands for the sake of the safety of your own people.

For the past months you had been going back and forth between work and your movement, Silco always by your side. Yet on your days off you'd wander on your own, going to Samira's to see if she could help you with creating an antidote, an antibiotic, whatever it was that could heal Silco's eye. The grey flesh gained territory, albeit slowly, and he needed more dosages of shimmer, going from one to two or three a day. Your stock was depleting at a fast pace, maybe you had enough for four more months but you would have to work fast.

So you provided Samira with Pilt river samples, samples from Sump moss, even a handkerchief you had used to clean up Silco's face wounds covered in a bit of pus and some dead skin. No matter what you gave, a piece of the puzzle was always missing.

"We still haven't tried everything."

"Samira, you have the toxins that eat at his skin, a sample of his skin itself, pure shimmer...I don't know what I can give you to help."

"The moss you gave me had an agent in it, it seemed to stabilize the shimmer solution and help in eating away at the bacteria. Unfortunately as resilient as moss is, the lack of water retension makes only a small bit of sap, which is what is needed to accomplish the biggest of the serum." She shows you through her microscope as she drops a bit of her trial serum onto some bacretia cultivated from the handkerchief, and it actually did work. Not much but it did. The bacteria went into a sort of shock, freezing in place as if they all suddenly fell asleep, then some of them would dissolve. Not all of them, but at least a quarter of the bacteria died from this trial alone.

You sigh, a hand raking through your hair. "Nothing grows in Zaun because of the poor soil and chemical waste." She nods, patting your hand. "I did get something more than information from my heists though."

Your mumble resonates in the room as your hand fishes through your pocket, finding a glowing blue marble.

"A hex crystal?"

"Yeah, they usually don't give those to basic enforcers, but a girl from the ex strike team visited, she had two on her and was stupid enough to leave one behind." You hand the marble to the woman next to you, her tan skin licked by the cold light.

"And...you want me to..use it?"

"If possible, see if shimmer, if the cultivated bacteria, the chemicals or the sap react to it."

"I'm no mage, you know?" She says placing the crystal above the light beneath the microscope, the white shine now blue, before looking into the eyepiece.

"I know Samira, but maybe a little bit of magic can go a long way. We need to try, Silco's good at hiding it but I know he's not getting any better and I worry for him. I just want him to be alright."

She nods and you get up from your chair, leaving the crystal in her capable hands as you go back home. You knew Silco was in much more pain and discomfort than he showed and it saddened you. He had payed the price for his actions, even before he made them, his whole life was spent in pain, and you were going to remedy that in whatever way you could. Yet you needed to find a plant that grew in the Sump for more of the sap that Samira needed and that was something you'd link more to a myth, nothing could grow in Zaun, even less a plant of that sort. And you sigh in frustration as you get back home, Silco sat at the alcove with a book and a cup and turned his head at your presence in the room, nodding his greeting to you.

"Rough day?"

"I'm just kinda stumped on something personal, it's frustrating me to no end because that matter is very important to me."

"And do you know what you'd need to solve that problem?"

You sat in front of him in the cushions, legs framing his as you leaned back in the alcove. "I have theories of one thing I could need, yet it seems to be more of a myth than anything. But what use is it if I can even have it yet not know what the recipe is."

"Is it so important to you that you leave for it everytime we have a day off?"

You nod slowly, pursing your lips into a smile as your eyes find his.

"Then I'm sure you'll find what it is you need. You're a stubborn woman, you won't back down until you get what you want." He nudges you and you sigh, a genuine small smile replacing your pused one. Your stomach bursting with butterflies at his soft encouragement, not rare anymore yet still as impactful each time it leaves his scarred lips.

"I guess. Thanks Silco."

"Don't get used to it." He smacks your hand as you go to take a sip from his coffee, handing it back to him afterwards, a cigarette quickly trapped between your lips as a flame licked the tobacco to ignite it. "I heard of a meeting at Vander's statue."

At his low drawl you open your eyes to stare at him curiously, your head tilting slightly.

"I heard Sevika would conduct it."

You nod to show you were listening. "And do you wish to go?" You blew your steam to the side.

He took a minute to think. "I suppose I do. In the hopes of seeing my daughter again although it seems she's disappeared from the face of Runeterra." His hand passes through his hair.

"Well I know she's definitely not dead, she wouldn't go out so easily against anything in this world. Enforcers, Noxians, magic...no matter what it is."

"I know."

"She's like you in that regard. But even if she isn't here, what will you do?"

"Appologize to Sevika."

"For what?"

He hums pensively, his eyes filled with swirling and clashing emotions, his thoughts looping and multiplying in his head before he simply smiles.

"Everything." Is all that he utters, his eyes conveying the weight of his words.

"When is it?"

"Tomorrow afternoon."

You clasp your hands on his shoulders, grabbing and squeezing comfortingly, his face tilting to the side so his scarred cheek touches your hand.

"Then we'll go." Your own smile grows on your face before you go shower, a meal prepared soon enough after you were done. The both of you falling into your routine, a year of sleeping in the same bed now and a year and a half of living together having led to much comfort in each other's presence. Your hands still found one another's head as you fell asleep, caressing your scalps into a much needed slumber.

The next morning you visit Samira again, Silco eyeing you suspiciously as you do yet letting you go without a word.

"Did the crystal do anything?" The woman slaving away at her desk startles, groaning as she turns to you, your own expression sheepish in apology to her surprise.

"Seems like the serum is boosted. But there's once again something missing..."

You sigh, leaning your hip against her desk, hands braced behind you as your eyes cloud in thought. "Anything hextech has some sort of...runes around the gem. As if to direct the energy purposefully towards any tast the hextech tool is supposed to do."

Humming pensively you trace on a bit of paper the runes you've seen around enforcer weapons, around certain tools carried by construction workers or even on the underground entrance to the hexgates. "Each of those have a purpose, to harm, to transport, to strengthen....If I can find someone proficient in runes we could possibly try something."

"I don't think I could do much for that, I manipulate biological matter, and that's of the order of magic and engeneering."

"You formulate the serum, I'll focus on the crystal. I may not be a mage but I have enough experience as a blacksmith to make something for this."

She nods, a hand rubbing on her forehead. "It could be dangerous you know?"

"And I'm willing to take the risk." You say, pocketing the crystal now that you know of its effects on the serum.

"It's crazy what you do for that man you know. Saving him and taking him in is one thing, letting him in your life and your shop for him to have something new is another, but you're inviting him into your revolution and using dangerous materials to save him..." She turns to you, her dark hair shadowing her face and making her grave expression all the more impactful. "I know you work yourself to the bone for everyone. But this is nearly madness."

"You know me, don't know when to stop."

"And you won't, especially not for him."

"He knows everything Samira." The glowing marble is back in your hand, thrumming with untapped power as you turn it to observe its smooth surface. "He's my only friend. The one person who saw past everything, and he's letting me in too. I see the bigger picture about him and he deserves more time. To repent and to finally live a life he loves, without the corruption of his own trauma."

"That's not all, now is it?"

And you were loath to admit it but it was true. It had been a year and a half of Silco's presence in your life and all had changed for the best. It was as if he was the key and you were the lock, he tried to force himself into locks unfit for his shape and broke them and himself as a consequence, you had been lockpicked again and again and pillaged only to decide to lock yourself away forever. You had provided him with a lock worth opening, letting him unravel after chipping away at himself for a world that would not budge and he had provided you with the gentle unlocking of your potential and all of what you had hidden for so long. What had started as wanting to save a fellow Zaunite, progressed to a silent need for companionship, then an unspoken friendship, but after the baptism even if he had called you his friend your heart had swayed into a different form of affection. The longing for companionship having been fulfilled you hoped to be content, and to a certain point you were. Yet there was still an emptiness, parts of your cracked heart not yet reached by his care, and you doubt they'd ever be. You hated that feeling. That longing for something more you believed you would not be granted. How dared you expect more from a man that already gave you so much more of himself than he allowed others? It made you feel unworthy of his friendship, the craving for something more, like you were given an inch but took a mile. Yet even as you pushed those feelings they kept on growing, every little action, every little word, fuelling your hidden affections and bringing them back into the spotlight.

It could be a simple playful nudge that you exchange, your gaze finding his in a clash of cold tides and searing metal, a soft smile or a teasing smirk. It could be his voice rolling like impending storms as he calls out to you, the gravelly quality it takes when he's tired, the silky soft tone he uses when you two open up or the velvety smoothness that drowns you in his seductive drawl when he jokes. Or maybe his laugh, that could be a soft huff, an almost indignant scoff, a low chuckle or a thundery cackle, rare like a flower growing in Zaun and just as beautiful. Maybe it was how he never seemed to fully hide how he felt around you, his façade slipping enough to show his comfort, his body relaxed, the permanent furrow of his eyebrows gone, the crows feet framing his eyes softened, his jaw loosened, and his eyes oh so expressive everytime he looks at you. Emotions that were familiar yet that took so long to decypher, still hard to fully comprehend even after so long. He seemed to seek out your presence, long gone were the days where he kept all the distance he could between you both, his body now always close by. Following you to the alcove or the couch, sitting at the table while you cooked, touching the small of your back when he opened the door to let you go first, a hand on your shoulder as he looks at whatever you're doing from behind you. It could be his growing humor, banter leaving you feel warm and joyful as he comes more and more out of his shell, the soft and open hearted moments also multiplying, bodies huddled together in the alcove with whiskey and cigarettes as you talk about anything and everything. Dreams, aspirations, hope....they all seemed so far away before him, then he came around and everything changed. You knew he believed himself to be a jinx, trying again and again yet always failing, always making things worse.

Yet he saved you from loneliness and his presence brought comfort and support you were never granted before. Fuelling your zeal, healing your heart.

Your heart clenches at the thought of your shared nights, the bed was where the both of you slept, soft breaths mingling as sleep overtook you, your chest warmed by his, one of your hands in each other's hair. In your dreams, when they seldom overtook your nightmares, you'd see you two embracing one another so tightly, words whispered in the other's skin, clothes discarded for closeness. In those dreams you felt fulfilled and complete, as if his care was all you needed for your life to click into place, for the final puzzle piece to be placed. And when nightmares woke you and he would drag you in his arms, you knew it was right. That his affection was all you craved, all you needed, to finally be fully yourself, yet as comfortable as you were in his arms in the mornings you always woke up alone. Well not exactly alone, yet not as cared for as in your sleep. And those nights happened more and more often, as if to tease you and mock you for falling deeper, making you realize just how fucked you were. Nightmares triggering from the stress at liking someone who wouldn't like you back, someone you couldn't have, yet Silco was ever so patient and caring towards you, maybe more so as time passed. Yet the embarrasment always melted as you came downstairs to the sight of him cooking, teasing you about how you clung to him in your sleep with one leg surrounding his hips and your arms clinging to him for dear life. All shame leaving for the day up until you wake up the next morning alone in bed yet again.

You sigh. "It doesn't matter."

"It does if you bleed yourself dry for him."

"But I am not. He helps me with everything, I have so much more energy now Samira, and more time for myself even if most of it is spent with him."

"You like it that way don't you?"

You nod, lower lip pinched between your teeth as you let out a long exhale through your nose. "He won't feel the same anyways, so I take what I can get."

"Are you sure about that? Silco is not rumored to be the most gentle, open guy, he's grown a lot with you." She rolls away from her desk, getting up to stand next to you. "Maybe he's in the same situation. But I doubt he'll reveal it anytime soon."

"He's probably just grateful, it's been over a decade since he's had a true friend, so he's probably just happy about it. Like I said, I'll take what I can get, I'm his friend first and foremost, no need to change something that doesn't need changing."

She looks at you knowingly, her eyebrows lifted and her lips in a soft pursed smile.

You put the crystal back in your pocket and leave Samira with a wave of your hand as you open the door, walking back home and sharing a quick lunch with Silco before you both make your way to Vander's statue. A large crowd already surrounded it and a short haired woman, who you guessed was Sevika, was on the statue's pedestal and as she spoke with her soft yet comandeering voice everybody listened. Jinxers, Children of Zaun, Firelights, factionless Zaunites and ex Baron lackeys, all joined in this important space for an important reason.

The need for unity against adversity.

"It's no secret we got history. Blood spilt on all sides. But we grew up on the same streets, ate the same scraps. Like it or not, we're in this mess together."

You nod along, eyebrows furrowed as your eyes stared at her, her words ringing true and showing her attachment to her people and how she respected the Zaunite code. Other people reacting in similar ways as more trenchers gathered in the square, the space getting scarce but the spirits getting stronger.

"Enforcers raiding our homes, Noxians down our throats, innocents getting carted off to Stillwater. We gotta choose right now whether we're going to throw the towel or make a stand together!"

Her voice gains in strength as she paces, looking to all of the faces in the crowd, eyes widening at the man next to you, Silco's hand suddenly holding yours in a tight yet gentle and warm grip while her bionic hand clenches. You squeezed in reassurance, wordlessly showing your support to your friend as his thumb caressed the back of your hand, eyes meeting Sevika's with a strong solemn nod, eyes conveying your allegience to her cause and she nods back before her eyes trail away.

"Not as Firelights, or Jinxers, or washed up goons." She takes a shaky breath. "Or even Children of Zaun." Her voice sounds gentler, reminiscent of a past long gone. "But as Zaunites!" She smiles to the crowd.

Yet people yell about wanting to see Jinx and you roll your eyes. No matter if their leader wasn't there, Jinxers had to realize that this was about more than symbols, that this was the place we'd create a united Zaun to fight back against your wardens. And all noise stops as a child climbs up onto Vander's memorial, lighting a blue flare and posing like one of the many paintings of Jinx you had observed on the walls of the Undercity. People slowly raised their hands, no matter who they are, taking off their masks and speaking in agreement, your own arm going upwards, the hand interlocked with Silco's raising in a joint cheer. You felt your friend's gaze on you and turned to him, cheeks softly burning as you smiled, his eyelashes fluttering as his mouth softly opens and closes as if to say something yet being uncapable of it.

That's when enforcers struck, what was a secret meeting suddenly thwarted by violence as citizens were beaten. You pulled your knuckle blades from beneath your long coat, a holster now holding them to your belts, and slipped in the crowd to attack, Silco preparing two daggers and doing the same. Yet as many as you beat more came around, it was an ambush.

"Stop fighting and run!"

Your voice screeches, continuing your unrelenting attacks towards the enforcers to permit as many Zaunites to escape as you could. Noxian forces soon arriving to the Piltovans' help and you sneered as you got low, blades planted in the ground as you prepared to lunge before you were dragged away by a familiar hand.

"It's not worth it, we have to leave."

The low gravelly voice of your friend was breathed directly into your ear, the closeness, feeling and sound disarming you before you turned to him. His eye was shadowed by a feeling of familiarity, a pain that had occured in the past, and at his haunted look you nod. Your weapons back in their sheaths as you hold his hand and run as fast and as far as you can, climbing gutters and avoiding the enemy through the roofs. Something felt wrong though, like someone following you.

"Silco." You call out.

"I know."

"The Sump." He nods at you, you both rushing between rooftops, getting down in the winding alleyways until you arrive at one of the entry points, suddenly stopping and taking your blades out, pointing them towards the one following you.

It was Sevika.

"Who are you?"

"A friend of Silco's." She scoffs.

"He doesn't do friends."

"He didn't do friends Sevika." Her eyes narrow and you sheathe your weapons back. "But you're not here to talk to me, you two need time, take it. I'll be here." You walk away, clasping your hands on Silco's shoulders for support and he grasps your hands gently, squeezing them and releasing a deep sigh. "You got this Sil."

His head snaps up and he looks at you in the eyes, his own widened until it softens. This time it's different than the usual ones, a look that has been coming more and more since that night you met up with the Children of Zaun at the Old Hungry, sparce yet growing more present. Before missions, after, during lunch at work, when no clients are around and you're working the hot metal in your hands, when you talk in the alcove at night while sharing cigarettes and a glass of whiskey, when you go sleep...

And that look made you crumble more the more you saw it. Falling deeper into a feeling that you were too scared to name under the idea that knowing about it will make it all the more concrete to you, cemented into your very being, carved into the rough metal of your soul.

So you step back, setting yourself on a dumpster not too far away. Silco's eye following you before he sighs, his hands clenching as he steels his resolve and takes off his eyepatch, slowly turning towards Sevika.

"You died."

"And yet I am no ghost Sevika."

"Yeah, unfortunately." She scoffs and that's when you notice her arm, or lack thereof, broken during the fight she was left without her mechanical aid. Your mind already making calculations for a small gift to your friend's former friend. She was rallying Zaun, loyal to her people even during such a time. No, especially during such a time. And her words earlier filled you with respect, no matter what would transpire between Silco and her, she'd get a new arm.

"I wish to apologize Sevika, if you'd let me."

"Hah! You? Apologize?" She barks out a laugh. "That's grand Silco. Real grand" She takes a few steps forward before looking at you. "What did you do to him, girlie? Silco isn't someone who appologizes or hides."

"We didn't hide Sevika, Chross came to us and we took care of him, shut him up in exchange for not divulging his..dealings." Silco takes a step forward. "If I was hiding I wouldn't lead a revolution and I would not be working out in the open either."

"Then why didn't you come back?" The woman's voice was angry, but a crack in it proved that there was more than just that.

"Because I had done enough damage, trying to fix it would risk me falling back in my ways or making everything worse. I had to...take a different approach."

"So the Children they're.."

"They're our faction, hers aswell as mine." He motions to you, a small smile softening his face. "She saved me, just because I was a Zaunite, she gave so much time and energy for me even when I was highly undeserving of it. She reminded me of what I was fighting for in the first place, the reason I kept going. Sevika I was blinded by pain, my dream stemmed from my love towards our people yet it was corrupted by loss, by fear, by anger, and I lost sight of what trully mattered in this fight. I lost sight of my love."

He sighs, putting a hand on Sevika's metal shoulder.

"You joined me because I got things done, and I know you saw me lose myself and tried to get me back. The only reason you stayed was because I was genuinely making things change, yet were they for the best? All I did was divide our people, drug them to create a weapon strong enough to give me power and money to take Piltover down, all the respect they gave me mainly stemmed from fear and rarely from admiration."

Sevika sighs and nods, agreeing to Silco's words.

"My friend here, she showed me the errors in my ways, not only by being honest and loyal when I had nothing, but also by giving me a place besides her and see the world for what it truly is again. Not a swirl of black ink in milky white, showcasing billions of shades of grey. No, she brought color back, showed me the beauty I believed had died so long ago. And she made me realize just how cruel I had been. Not only to my people and my men, but to Jinx and you aswell. The only two people that stayed besides me even when I all I did was hurt you."

"So you grew a conscience?"

"Yes, and a heart aswell." Sevika's face sours, it's acrid and bitter like the Sump, full of so many emotions. Anger, hurt and disbelief amonst them.

"I hurt you Sevika, I used you and you let yourself be treated like this because of our shared dreams, because of your morals. Yet in the end, you were the one who ran everything weren't you? You enforced authority, inspired respect, you checked every operation, acted as personal security while I was rotting away at my desk. My mind circling the drain, battered by corrupted politics, self-hatred, fear, anger, spite and hopelessness. But you never lost hope, and you stayed despite the behavior I was punishing you with. Gradually becoming worse to you, to Jinx and to myself."

"So you admit she was a mistake? Taking her in wasn't your responsibility, you fucked everything."

Sevika straightens, the look in her eyes softening and her lips pursing.

"While I know that taking her in was what made my downfall all the more painful, I will not allow you to call her a mistake." He rumbles, his shoulders tight. "She was the one element keeping me human even after i lost it all. And she was Felicia's daughter, I was not going to let her get caught by enforcers, or leave her without anything or anyone. I prefer suffering the price of my daughter's actions than risk my old friend's legacy dying without fighting for it."

"But I shouldn't have let her get involved in the enterprise. I shouldn't have made her into a monster, and I should have seeked help for her. She hurt many of our people, she hurt you, and her actions caused this war to happen. Maybe it was necessary, yet maybe a better solution could have been found had I been a better father. Unfortunately I was the best father I could be to her while being the unhealed, pathetic man that I was."

"We both know you were anything but pathetic Silco."

"I don't mean weak, Sevika. I was drowning in my own darkness and I pulled her with me, the rare instances of clarity I had were because she swimmed to the surface and let me take a lungful of air before my weight dragged her down again. And as she grew, my darkness exacerbated hers, and she drowned in her own, pulling me along aswell. I was pathetic because I could not recognize my faults as a father, as a leader, as a revolutionary and as a man. And for all of that, for all of the hurt I caused you, Jinx and our people, I appologize."

Sevika freezes, her hand clenching and unclenching rapidly as if debating whether to punch Silco or hold him, eyelashes fluttering and eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm sorry Sevika. You've always picked up my messes, always tried your hardest to make everything better, and I could never see how lucky I was to have you by my side. If anything, I was by yours the whole time, yet never was I there for you like you deserved."

And with that Silco steps back and takes a knee, saluting Sevika like a true Child of Zaun while her mouth opens and closes rapidly, her fingers twitching and her lungs taking quick, deep breaths.

"And you expect me to forgive and forget?"

"No." Was the simple and gentle answer he gave.

"No?"

"You are free to hate me, even beat me where I stand if it makes you feel any better. But you shouldn't forgive me if you cannot find it in yourself to do so, and you should never forget how I was either. I was a real piece of work Sevika, and you were the one that dealt with my every whims, I want you to realize how strong you are for that."

She drops down, her flesh arm gripping Silco's neck, his eyes fearful yet determined, his face soft, warmed by a smile.

"I should have never done that to you, old friend." He embraces her softly, the woman dropping her hand to wrap it behind your friend, hand punching at him before it grips the leather jacket. Her back jumped as Silco held her, she was crying.

"Fuck you Silco." You chuckle at her muffled words and her head comes up, arm unwrapping to wipe at her melted makeup and aid her at getting back up on her feet. "How'd you do that kid?"

"A lot of patience. Gotta need it to deal with him." She approached you, eyes wet yet a small smile growing on her face. "I also make him work, he's under me so if he does something unsatisfactory I deck his pay."

You both chuckle and she extends her hand to you, you grab it and shake it, introducing yourself as she does the same.

"That's all?"

"I also make pretty good food?" She snorts and releases your hand. "What? No Zaunite would turn down a good homemade meal."

"You look strong." Her words resonate as her eyes take you in, trailing up an down your form.

"Blacksmith." Your head tilts to her mechanical shoulder and you smile. "I'll make you something."

"You don't have to."

"I want to." Silco chuckles from behind her.

"That means the decision is final Sevika. Her stubbornness is one of the many reasons she chipped away at who I was before. And although I have a long way to go, I wouldn't have made it this far and won't make it much further without her."

You huff out a laugh. "You'd be good on your own Sil, stop buttering me up."

"I'm not. I'd lose myself without you, at the very least I'd risk it. You keep me straight, you transmute me like the philosopher's stone changes the crudest of elements into gold."

You bite your lip trying to distract yourself from the growing blush making your face burn as it you were feverish and your stomach and heart churn and flutter. Sevika grins, her eyes widening mischeviously while her chest bounces with a laugh.

"Now when did you learn to become a poet Silco?" She teases, her eyes trained on you.

"I've had a lot of time to read and reflect on my feelings."

Her eyebrows raise in incredulity as she huffs out a chuckle.

"Right." She drawls teasingly. "All of your feelings?"

"What are you implying?"

"Me?" She turns around. "Nothing."

You slip from the dumpster and breathe deeply, stepping from behind her to find Silco now standing up with his hands in his coat pocket.

"Something big is coming, will you two lend your strength to Zaun when it happens?"

"You don't need to ask Sevika, we're all Zaunites, it's our fight and we'll give it all we've got." She grins at your words, an arm wrapping around you.

"Good, you're valuable to our people. I heard of you, the blacksmith who worked day and night to provide masks for us during the strike team attacks. The ever so reliable woman of the Sumps that people praise day in and day out to provide all that her people need." And all of a sudden she cackles. "That means you-" She points to Silco. "Are the assistant? Oh I never thought I'd see the day."

"And he still takes care of boring papers. As a punishment." You giggle alongside her and look over to Silco who looked at you with that same warm look, nearly warm enough to make you melt into a puddle at this very moment if it wasn't for Sevika's hold on you.

"You let me do this because you hate these boring papers and I'm good at them. Don't lie, I make your work easier my dove." His voice teases, velvety and drawled as he looks at you, his hands placing his eyepatch back on his face and redoing his hair. Locks of ink black fluttering until right below his shoulders before being placed back in their low bun, the half bangs still adorning the left side of his face. His hair having grown much longer in the year he'd spent by your side.

The tease had shivers racking through your body.

"That's what you're supposed to do as an assistant, you pissant." You retort, trying to take the attention away from the words he'd just uttered. Yet Sevika's hand gripped your shoulder tighter and you saw her smirk from the peripheral, she had felt everything and you know she wouldn't let you live it down when you next met.

"I'll leave you two, I have to find Jinx, Isha's been taken."

"Isha?"

"Jinx?"

Came out two replies at once and the woman nods.

"Jinx is well, she found Isha around a year ago and raised her, took care of her. She's the kid that was on Vander's statue." You hum in understanding and Sevika takes her arm away from your shoulders and into her pocket. "Kid's very important to baby blue, helped her with her psychosis, she got better because of the little one."

Silco takes a deep breath and approaches you two. "Then thank that child for me, and cherish the both of them."

"I have been. Jinx was all that was left of you, and to her I was all that was left aswell. She's...grown on me, that crazy little thing."

You smile at Silco and Sevika, lips softly pulled up as you cross your arm.

"Thank you for that. Caring for her."

"I know how much she means to you, she'd done a lot of efforts towards me too you know. She's the one who built me that arm after the previous one was ruined. So what started out as a debt just became..."

"Genuine care." Your friend's voice finishes Sevika's sentence, the woman nodding gently at the words, agreeing to them. Her eyes found Silco's and whatever she found in that cold teal had her smiling, her eyes drifting to you for a millisecond as Silco's do aswell. Still swirling and glittering with that underscribable look.

"Yeah. Genuine care. Same thing I felt for you after you saved me from life as an infirm." Sevika says, cutting the eye contact before raising her eyebrows at the man.

"The ledgers have been flipped, I owe you greatly now."

"No. You saved my life and fueled me, no matter how much of a prick you were, there was a lot of good in you. Even if your actions were beyond reprehensible. The debts have all been repaid."

"Then you two are equals." You butt in, taking Sevika's hand and Silco's right one, trapping them between your own in a handshake. "No one ows anybody a debt anymore, you now see eye to eye and have the same goal. That's all there is to it." You turn to the woman next to you. "You're always welcome to visit us anytime if you're in need of anything or just wish to swing by, a friend of Silco's is also my friend and like hell would I turn a Zaunite away."

She smiles and frees her hand, showing it to you and you take it, a smile of your own reciprocating hers. Before she drops her hand, steps taking her away, a goodbye hastily thrown over her shoulder as she leaves, you and Silco also walking back home. Your routine was similar to always yet as you rake your hands through one another's hair that night you get closer, holding him.

"I'm proud of how far you've come, Sil."

"I wouldn't have been able to do it all without you."

You shiver and snuggle deeper in his hold, his warmth seeping through your clothes as you try to ignore how much faster your heart is beating.

"Yet if you weren't good deep down, it would have never happened. I'm proud of you, so I hope you're proud of yourself aswell."

"By your side I always am, my dove."

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Taglist: @vicurious28@midromiell@zorosleftmantit101@anthy-j-ander@agathasslutt@onyxistired@ren-ren23@hurts-my-brain@burgerwolf74

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x female reader #silco #arcane silco #silco arcane #silco x reader #silco x you #league of legends #silco league of legends #fluff #silco fluff #whatcouldhavebeen #fix it #soft silco #fix it au #fix it fic

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always-and-forever-alone · 2 days ago

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Worrying

Remus lupin x gn!reader

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Summary:[reader gets a vision that someone is getting hurt in the whomping willow; they decide that they can't just let someone be hurt so they go to help, only it turns out they are the ones that will be hurt]

TW: [reader gets slightly hurt, blood, slow burn kinda, angst, happy ending, reader is a seer/can see the future, I have dyslexia]

Note: [this was supposed to be a blurb... tell me if i misspelled something or got something wrong]

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Sleep does not come easy, you toss and turn. Thinking of ways to fall asleep faster, but to no avail. Something feels wrong like you are missing something you should know.

Somehow, you fall asleep, but your dream is unsettling; your mind leads you through grass, the night sky is clear, and you make out the whomping willow. The air is cold and uninviting. Something horrible is in the air. Fear of one's self, guilt without strong reason. But has this person that feels, done anything wrong? It's unclear

In the tree, the vision goes. A blurred site, barely making out a man, in pain, screaming. So much weight in the scream, not just physical pain. It's sure to never leave the head of whoever hears it, and unfortunately, the head is yours. It echoes, will it end?

There's more, though, an unidentifiable amount of people are near, feeling sad as if they are losing something or maybe someone. They know this is temporary, but it hurts to see. But what are they seeing? The people changed, but not like the one that screamed. The unwillingness of one is guided by the willingness of some.

The vision weakens as the connection starts to stop; the vision of what the night is to hold slowly leaves.

A piercing scream wakes you. Your eyes snap open. You look around at your dorm mates, all perfectly asleep. This makes you think that there was no scream. But it was so reel feeling. It was kind of hard to depict what dreams were real or just that, a dream. It was so much easier in the day because you can't dream well awake and not be in control.

You look at the time around 4:20 a.m. You try to find reasons you should investigate. You've already lost sleep; what could it hurt? It'd put you at ease when you see that nothing is wrong because surely nothing is wrong. Right?

Getting out of your bed, you grab a jacket and a poison of healing, for if someone is hurt, you will help. You disillusion yourself, quietly creeping down the hall. The paintings are asleep, and you have yet to run into a perfect. The walk seems unusually long, although maybe because you want answers.

Pushing open one of, many doors, open, you slip out into the darkness. The moon provided enough light to see where you were going. Even with a jacket the air was so cold, it was weird connecting that it wasn't winter.

Approaching the whomping willow, you look for a way in. But it's too late. The tree is already swinging at you. You jump out of the way. Running when you see an opening. Without too much though, you go through it.

You hear scratching as if a mouse was running by. A little grossed out by the thought of unkempt animals living here you move forward. The same way the vision went.

Nearing a door, you tentatively push it back. Slowly exposing whatever was inside. But with a sharp bang, the door shut; there was so much force you stumbled back. Making a move to not fall down the stairs you just climbed, and pulling yourself to the boor again, something or someone had been thrown to the boor. There's no way someone didn't get hurt. So wanting to help you move closer to the door.

This time you open the door quickly, sliding inside. You feel like you should be scared right now, but for some reason, it feels so right for you to be here. Although the scene in front of you did scare you. A dog, mouse, deer, and, for Merlin's sake, a werewolf were right in front of you. The mouse makes some sense, but never had you seen a dog in Hogwarts, and maybe a deer, but how did it get in? And a werewolf!

It smells you instantly, no longer interested in whatever was happening before it slowly stocks towards you. The deer threw it by its antlers, but the werewolf was back on its feet fast. The dog started barking as the mouse jumped on its eyes, trying to temporarily blind it. And all I could do was stand there, my face going pale.

With one move, it jumped towards me, the mouse falling with a light thud; you were sure your body was going to follow. But the werewolf barely graced your cheek. Confused, you opened your eyes; the werewolf was changing back; the sun peaked through the wood. Shocked, you see your good friend Remus. As the others in the room misinterpreted your reaction, all you could feel was concern for your friend.

And like that you fainted.

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You open your eyes and take in your surroundings. Confusion fills you as you try to piece together your situation. You're in the hospital wing. Memories begin to resurface. You recall the vision, the chaos with the whomping willow, and the fact that Remus is a werewolf.

Seeing Sirius and James, there helping up Remus, and Peter is carrying what I assume is Remus's stuff. You quickly stand up and move toward them. You feel like you need to apologize for putting Remus in that situation. But James starts guiding him away, James signals for Sirius to talk to you. With Sirius now standing in your way. You call Remus's name but he just puts his head down and keeps moving forward a little faster now.

"Look, you can't tell anyone, I'm sorry you got hurt. But it's not his fault, he isn't him when he's like that." Sirius says, a little mad as if you've already told. You move your hand to your cheek after he mentions you being hurt. It's gone, leaving what feels like a scar "Of course, I wouldn't tell anyone. Why would I even do that? It's not my life," Sirius looks at you for a moment and seems to relax, but not much.

With that, he starts walking off. "Wait! Can I talk with him," you reach for his hand, he slips it out before you can reach it. "It's best if you don't; Remus doesn't want to hurt anyone, especially not someone like you," he starts moving away, "What does that mean?" But he doesn't stop, leaving you behind.

Miss Pomfrey, now realizing you are awake walks over to you. "Dear, do you feel good enough to leave. Evening is healed. You fainted from shock" I look at her and nod. "Ok dear"

You get your stuff and leave; what will you tell people when they ask about the scar? Probably something about being clumsy.

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For the next two weeks, you tried talking to Remus, even sending him letters. He got them but was so ashamed of himself and feeling like a monster he didn't read them. Sirius told him that you were not going to tell, but Sirius didn't say much else; he offered that I should talk to you, but what if you hate me? Even when he reassures me that you don't hate me. How would he know?

I didn't throw away the letters, though; they just kept piling up on my bedside table.

Sirius and James said that if I don't want to talk to you then they'll support it, but I know they want me to talk to you. How could I, I hurt you.

You had tried many ways to get a chance to talk to Remus, but someone you were once close with was now ignoring you. While you weren't friends with the other Marauders, you hoped that one day you would be. It felt as though they hated you. What could you do...

Your other friends started to notice that something was wrong; you seemed a little more gloomy and often stared off into space, lost in deep thought. When you weren't doing that, you were writing. Normally, they would assume it was schoolwork, but you had such a pained expression on your face.

It was only when they saw the marauders looking out at you, or more like just Remus. At first, maybe it was an accident or just so happened to be where his eyes landed, but then a second and a third, and a fourth time. He had the same look as you. Guilt. There was something there.

One evening, your friends had dragged you down to dinner; you stared at your food, picking at it, but not eating it. You heard a sigh; looking up, you saw a disappointed friend. You're disappointed friend. "You know food is for eating, not for playing with," she finally says. You are about to reply when it hits you: a brilliant idea. You gasp, "what day Is it" you ask looking to see if You can see it anywhere.

"Are you alright?" concern replacing the disappointment, "no im not, what day is it!" You ask, packing your things, your friend answers hesitantly. Just like you thought, it was the full moon.

You run to your room, get ready, grab some food and a good book, and then sneak to the hostel wing. He'll have no choice but to see you there when he gets back in the morning. So there you were in the hospital wing. Madam Pamfry doesn't try to get you to leave; she could tell you need to be here more than sleep. So you waited, you had grabbed a book to read but you were far to nervous now.

Just 20 minutes after sunrise, Remus was pulled into the hospital wing. The boys were too busy to see you; madam told them to leave so she could treat him. When she was done you quickly went over to him, hidden by the curtains, you asked Madame Pamfry to make sure the boys wouldn't introduced and then thanked her.

Just as she left, Remus started to wake. He seemed so peaceful for a second. Before realizing why he was there and what he was. And then he saw you. "We need to talk," you whisper. "Yeah," he mutters. "I'm sorry-" you start, but he also says 'I'm sorry' which is why you stop; we both look up, and you smile lightly, but he does not. With a sigh he says "You go first" You nod your smile falling, I start, "I'm sorry I put you in that position, and I'm sorry I messed up our relationship, and I get if you no longer want to be friends, this will be my last attempt to talk to you If you wish I'll leave" and somehow he looks even more hurt.

"No. Of course, I still want to be your friend, I thought... I thought you hated me and considered me a monster." You can't help but laugh at the exhaustion you could not have gone through if this had just not happened. "Well, now we know that we're both wrong," you add. "Never thought I'd be happy about being wrong." he smiles this time; you agree.

"I was worried," you say, getting it off your chest. "You were?" He asked, surprised, "Yeah".

"This is going to make everything so much more complicated, but can I kiss you?" Completely caught off guard, you look up into his eyes and then quickly glance down at the ground. "Yes," you whisper. He reaches out and pulls you in; his lips are soft and hesitant, but you can feel him smile into the kiss. Behind you, you hear Sirius say, "Finally."

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Hoped you liked it :>

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