#i've had one before and it went away with warm compresses and eye wash (the standard treatment)

[thevioletcaptain]

the next customer to ask me "what's wrong with your eye?" is getting thrown into the sea :)

[goodfish-bowl]

Ghost in a Bottle

Danny Phantom x Voltron: Legendary Defender

Masterpost

DP Crossover Angst Week Day 4 - Trapped in a Thermos for Days or Months.

Summary: Pidge had gotten the thermos as part of a deal, along with the coveted gaming system and Kaltenecker. Of all things to be inside a 300-year-old Earth novelty item, Pidge had not been expecting a person. Danny just wants to find Jazz.

Notes: I've never written anything for Voltron before, and it's been a hot minute since I watched that show. This takes place circa Season 4, ep 4.

Word Count: 3,676

AO3 Link

Pidge had honestly forgotten she even had that thermos until it sent her flying across the room. The metal thermos was sent flying in the opposite direction as Pidge collided with a readily prepared pile of clothes. She groaned from having the wind knocked out of her before glaring at the container. She had picked it up from that one Earth-themed shop in the space mall since the keeper had thrown it in as part of a deal for the gaming counsel, along with Kaltenecker. It had gotten lost in the mess of her room until it apparently desired vengeance for being forgotten on the floor in the form of a tripping hazard. 

It was an odd, collectible-looking thing, made to look “futuristic” if Pidge had to guess, at least for three centuries ago. All shiny metal with the most saturated green she had ever had the displeasure of witnessing. It had a small button and meter on the side, which glowed a faint green, which was why Pidge had assumed it was collectible. 

“For tossing me to the floor, I’m going to fill you with the most bland, warm Altean food goo there is,” Pidge threatened the thermos. 

Well, before filling it with food goo, Pidge realized she should probably wash it… thoroughly disinfect and sanitize it first. Who knows where the thing had been, especially to make it this far out into space. 

Pidge crept out of her room and made her way to the kitchens. It wasn’t that late, probably the equivalent to 11 pm Earth time, but Pidge was still surprised to find Hunk in the kitchen, cleaning up from whatever he had been trying to make. Trying, being the key word, since there was a pile of burned goop being scraped into a container to be disposed of. 

“Hey, Hunk, what were these supposed to be?” Pidge asked.

Hunk jumped, before spotting Pidge in the kitchen. “Oh, it’s just you, Pidge. I was trying to make a curry, but, well…”

Pidge nodded in understanding. 

“Well, what are you doing? It’s a bit late for a snack, even for you,” Hunk pointed out. 

Pidge held up the thermos. “Gotta wash this.”

“Huh,” Hunk said, looking at the thermos. “Okay.”

Pidge went over to the Altean equivalent of a sink and unscrewed the cap. The hiss of pressure release was expected, but the amount of gas that started pouring out, less so. Pidge only held the thermos for a moment longer before dropping it into the sink and backing away. She ducked behind the island table in the middle of the room, dragging Hunk behind the table with her. 

Gas, thick and opaque, kept pouring out from the thermos, first pooling in the sink, then overflowing from the sink to the ground, forming a cloud at the base of the cabinets. Pidge and Hunk watched it continue to flow onto the floor, forming a cloud just big enough that Pidge could probably lay in it and be completely covered. 

“Pidge, is it just me or is it taking the form of a person?” Hunk pointed out. 

Pidge checked, and sure enough, the fog was beginning to compress, all on its own, into a vaguely humanoid form. She cursed under her breath. Of all the weird things to get her hands on, this one had something inside.  

“Hunk, sound the alarm,” Pidge said, refusing to take her eyes off their potential intruder. 

Hunk pressed the alarm button, and the silent alarms went off, flashing the lights, and notifying anyone else on board of the location and potential danger. 

The smoke condensed even further under the careful watch of both Pidge and Hunk from behind the counter, and slowly began gaining color while the smoke itself became thin and dissipated. A black suit, with long silver-white gloves, and tall boots. The being’s hair was white, while a tan-green color filled out the location of their face. Details became more apparent just as the other Paladins and Coran managed to make it to the room. On the floor, seemed to be a young male teen, likely just a few inches taller than Pidge herself, with bright white hair and pointed ears. 

“What’s going on? Are you both okay?” Shiro demanded as he rounded the corner. 

“We’re fine,” Hunk confirmed. “But… uh. I think we have an intruder.” 

Shiro rounded the corner, prepared for a fight, only to pause. 

“Okay, where did this guy even come from?” Lance asked, round the corner just behind Shiro. 

“He was in the thermos, that’s in the sink,” Pidge announced. 

Lance glanced at the thermos in the sink, pointing at it. 

“He was in that?”

Both Pidge and Hunk nodded. 

Lance frowned, going to nudge the boy with his foot. His foot passed through the boy, dissipating the smoke before quickly reforming. Lance yelped, jumping back. 

Allura rounded the corner herself and considered the unconscious teen, Coran behind her. 

“Do you know what he could be? I don’t think we’ve encountered smoke people before,” Hunk asked. 

“You said he came out from that vessel, correct?” Coran asked. 

“Yeah, I just thought it was some old novelty Earth thing. I wasn’t expecting there to be someone inside,” Pidge explained. 

Coran hummed, carefully picking up the thermos and examining it, while Allura looked at the boy more closely. 

“Careful, Allura. He’s an unknown,” Shiro warned. 

“A very unconscious, made of smoke, unknown,” Lance helpfully added. 

“I’ve…” Allura trailed off. “I’ve never encountered a people like this before. But whatever he is, he is overflowing with energy in a way… we’ve rarely encountered.”

“I’ve also never seen technology like this either,” Coran added. “Where did you say you found this, Pidge?” 

“From the Earth shop in the Space Mall,” Pidge repeated. “I don’t think we had technology like that on Earth 300 years ago either. It aesthetically matches the time period, so it could’ve been in the shop by mistake.”

“We’ll have to check. It’s an interesting piece, I would like to study it if that’s alright with you.”

Pidge shrugged. “I don’t care. I was just gonna fill it with food goo. New tech is always cool to fidget with, so let me know when you decide to take it apart. But, right now, I’m more interested in what we’re going to do with him?”

“We should move him into a sleep tank. I’d at least like to speak with him and learn more about his people,” Allura stated. 

Shiro frowned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What if he’s hostile?” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had a hostile person on the ship.��

“Not that I’m against moving him to the sleep tanks,” Hunk spoke up. “But how are we supposed to do that? He’s made of smoke.”

“Not anymore,” Lance announced, crouched at the feet of the unconscious unknown. “He finally solidified about a minute ago.” Lance poked the boy’s boot to prove it.  

Shiro sighed. “Let's get him to the sleep tanks. Who knows how long he was locked in that soup thermos.”

Danny woke up slowly, all sensation out of reach. But he could tell he was submerged and suspended in something. The only thing he could feel was the gas mask over his face, forcing air into his lungs. Had Jazz managed to get him to the Far Frozen? Danny’s eyes refused to open, he couldn’t so much as twitch a finger, feeling heavy and foreign in his own skin. He doubted he would even be able to breathe if not for the mask. Danny was in the Far Frozen, he would be fine. And if he was here, so was Jazz. She was safe amongst the yetis. Jazz was safe. 

Danny slipped back asleep.

Danny woke up again, this time more quickly. He twitched his fingers, and slowly, opened his eyes. There was a hydraulic hiss, and the fluid Danny had been suspended in drained away, slowly allowing him to stand on his own. He couldn’t, and ended up heavily leaning against the side of the tube. It took longer than Danny would like for his vision to clear up. 

Danny was not in the Far Frozen, that was for sure. And worse, he was completely alone, with no idea of where he was and how he had gotten here. He seemed to be in a large room, containing a few other containment things. His clothes, at least, had not been changed from his threadbare shirt and tattered jeans. No shoes though. He physically seemed to be fine, just a little weak and tired, but he couldn’t tell where he was, and there was no one there to ask. 

Slowly, Danny put more weight on his legs, and the containment tube he was in opened, allowing him to step out. From here, he could spot a hallway leading further into wherever he was. He could also spot the heavy cables and pipes connected to each of the containment tubes, but his looked to be the only one in recent use. 

Slowly but surely, Danny made his way out of the room with the tubes and made it down the hallway. It was very futuristic in his opinion. There was a humming in the air, not quite electricity, but it didn’t remind him of the Ghost Zone either. He wasn’t in his ghost form right now either, so definitely not in the Ghost Zone. But that energy was there, humming in the walls like in his parents’ lab. Danny wondered if Jazz had actually managed to take him to another world or something, rather than stay in the Ghost Zone. It was kind of making him hungry. Danny wondered if he could find the kitchens. 

Danny heard heavy boots against the metallic ground before he saw someone. They were moving fast, and their rapid and loud approach was the only thing that kept Danny from being practically tackled to the ground in surprise. 

It was a tall man with black hair with a mess of white in the front, dressed in some kind of black and white armor. He immediately stood on guard and Danny raised his arms in surrender. He didn’t want to fight. He doubted he could even run as he was right now. 

“Uhh, hi. I’m lost.”

The man looked startled and confused for a moment before shifting to exasperation. “Did you just come from the sleep tanks?”

Sleep tanks… oh. “Yeah, I did.”

The man crossed his arms. “We have some questions we’d like to ask you.”

Danny frowned. “Okay… can I get something to eat, at least? It feels like it’s been years since I’ve had a snack.”

“We can provide something,” the man confirmed, “But for now, follow me.”

The man started walking away, and Danny struggled to keep up, which eventually got noticed. He slowed his pace to match a bit more closely with Danny’s while also talking into a mic on his armor. Danny listened, only able to make out half the conversation. His head still felt like it was full of whatever he’d been floating in. 

“Yes, I’ve found him… There's been some... unexpected developments. I’ve sent an image through the comm. Also, he wants snacks… no I don’t know what he likes, Hunk…”

“I like chips,” Danny helpfully interjected. 

The man frowned at him before returning to his comm unit. “He likes chips… sure Hunk, go nuts… No, it would be better to ask those questions once I’ve brought him to the main room… I’m not asking him that.”

Something was bothering Danny. It felt like he was on his way to an interrogation. No, he was definitely on his way to an interrogation. But there shouldn’t be a need for that. If he was here, Jazz should also be here. They should already know who he is, and any other questions that Jazz could answer. But they didn’t know. It left a sour feeling in him and a twist in his gut. 

“Hey,” Danny called out, gaining the man’s attention. “Where is Jazz?”

The man raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

The feeling got worse. Maybe it was just a big place? With how far they had walked, there had to be a decently large group of people running it. Which reminded Danny that he still didn’t know where he was. 

“Hey-” Danny started again but cut himself off by the man raising a hand. 

“I’m sure you’re confused about everything, but we have plenty of questions ourselves. We can do our best to answer once we get to the bridge. Please hold onto them until then.”

Danny felt like he had just been scolded, and gave a silent nod. 

They were going to the bridge. That was a part of a ship. Were they on some sort of massive ship of some kind, like a naval base or something? Danny didn’t like the thought of being in government custody, even if these people had far too much color in their uniforms (which Danny was assuming the armor was) to be with the GIW. Besides, why would the GIW be at sea? Last he checked they didn’t hunt sea monsters, just ghosts. Something still didn’t feel right. 

Then they entered the bridge, and Danny swore his heart, brain, and core short-circuited at once. There, just outside the window-

“We’re in space!” Danny exclaimed, gaining the attention of everyone else in the room. 

Danny bolted to the window, instantly glued to it, eyes darting as he tried to spot familiar constellations. There was a conversation going on behind him, but Danny couldn’t care for it at the moment as elation filled him. They were in space! He was on a spaceship! This elation was dampened slightly by the fact that Danny couldn’t even recognize a singular constellation. 

“Where even are we…?” Danny trailed off, talking more to himself than asking questions aloud. 

“I believe we are currently just outside the Malark galaxy, passing by the Shuldek system,” a voice answered. 

Danny’s head snapped over, to see a ginger man with a large mustache and pointed ears, along with small blue markings just under his eyes. Danny didn’t understand what, or where, exactly that meant, but it awed him anyway. But just past the ginger man, the entire group of people was staring at him with a mix of expressions. There were only six of them, counting the ginger man, but no Jazz still. 

“While I’m sure you have plenty of questions for us, we would like to ask you a few first, if that’s alright?” The woman with white hair, pointed ears, and similar markings under her eyes asked. 

Danny blinked, still not too sure what was going on. “Uh, sure I guess.”

“Wonderful! First, are you aware of who we are?” She asked. 

Danny shook his head. “Nope, not a clue.”

“Then I suppose introductions are in order. I am princess Allura of Altea, the Blue Paladin of Voltron. Here with me are the other paladins of Voltron, Shiro, Lance, Pidge, and Hunk. And Coran here is the Captain of our ship, the Castle of Lions.” It was a very… professional introduction. Danny wondered how often she had to recite it. 

Danny glanced over the other ‘paladins’ the princess had named. Only Shiro was in armor, while the others wore something that resembled the more casual clothes Danny was used to. They also seemed to be human. 

Danny cleared his throat, realizing they were waiting for a response. “Oh, um. I’m Danny Fenton.”

There was a small reaction to his name, but not any recognition. That was… really problematic. Princess Allura went to ask another question but Danny spoke first, interrupting her. 

“I… I know you wanted me to wait a bit before asking my questions, but I would really like to know where Jazz is?”

They just looked confused, so Danny continued, trying to push back the small bubble of panic that had been slowly building since he had woken up. 

“Jazz, ya know? About yay tall, bright ginger hair, always wears a headband, talks like she can figure out every thought in your head. She’s my sister, she should’ve been with me.”

 Still no recognition on any of their faces. 

“I’m sorry, but we didn’t discover you with anyone. Pidge discovered your… thermos at a store and purchased it, releasing you upon opening it,” Allura explained. 

Pidge helpfully held up a beat-up-looking Fenton Thermos that Danny could’ve recognized anywhere. 

“You gave us quite the scare and we’re glad you’re alright. I’m sure we can try to find your sister as soon as we can,” Allura assured him. 

Danny felt like he was going to fall over. Had they been separated? Yeah… he could just find Jazz. Or she would find him. She might’ve lost the thermos or something and was probably going nuts looking for him. These people sounded important. If he was seen with them, or they made some sort of announcement, Jazz was sure to know exactly where he was at. He was fine, and Danny was sure Jazz was too. On another note, they had been the ones to open the thermos, and he had most likely not popped out in ghost form. His secret was blown before he even got their names. 

Danny deflated, taking a wobbly step forward. “Okay… can I sit down for a bit? I… I can answer your questions.”

Danny carefully walked over to a section of the bridge with a few more seats and practically collapsed into one. There was a plate of something that resembled homemade potato chips but slightly purple. He wasn’t really hungry anymore, now much more worried about Jazz than he had been minutes ago. 

“Okay… what do you want to know?” Danny opened the room. 

“First off,” Shiro began, “Are the terms ‘Voltron’, Altea, and the Galra all completely foreign to you?”

“Yeah. Sounds important, but I’ve got no idea what you're talking about,” Danny confirmed. 

“What are you and where are you from?” Shiro asked next. 

“I’m… half human. I’m from Amity Park, Illinois, Earth.”

“Do you know what your other half is? Your appearance changed quite dramatically from your initial appearance. And from what we’ve seen, humans are not particularly capable of shifting to a gaseous state,” Princess Allura asked. 

Danny didn’t exactly know how to answer that question, so he lied. “No, I don’t. It’s just how I am.”

“Do you know how your thermos got all the way into Galra-controlled territory?”

“No. That might be a question for the person you bought it… me from.”

“Oh! I got one!” Lance announced, “Danny, do you know what year it is?”

“Lance, of all things to ask, there are more interesting things you could’ve asked. Just because he looks out of-” The one known as Hunk began scolding Lance before Danny answered, interrupting yet again. 

“Last I checked, it was 2006.”

That shut everyone up fast. Wow. Danny had already assumed he was in another world, and he was very much in space, but he had no idea how far along this world was chronologically, not that it really mattered to him. 

“ 310 years? ” Pidge sputtered, seemingly in more shock than the others. “You were in that thermos for 310 years?!”

Danny shrugged. “Maybe.” 

He really didn’t want to have to explain alternate realities and time travel to a group of space strangers. Danny being a bit temporarily displaced did seem to strike a chord with both Allura and Coran somehow. Now that he considered it, they weren’t humans were they? Wow! Danny was used to nonhumans in the zone, but it was completely different when they were alive! Danny wanted to ask them all about their home planet, and also the ship. He also really wanted to know about the ship. He also really wanted a nap.  

“You don’t seem particularly… troubled by your situation,” Allura pointed out. 

“I mean, what can I do about it? And until I find Jazz, I’m not going anywhere,” Danny said. “Am I allowed to stay here?”

“Of course! In fact, I’m sure you have many questions about our times. Coran here is very knowledgeable about everything concerning our ship and space. Please feel free to ask him any questions you might have,” Princess Allura stated. 

Allura sent a look at the other paladins that Danny chose to ignore, instead setting his sights on Coran who looked somewhere between acting like he’d been left to the wolves and preening at the acknowledgment of his knowledge. 

“Of course! I shall answer any and all questions you have. It was my grandfather who built the Castle of Lions and-”

Danny listened intently about everything from the construction and operation of the ship to the neighboring star systems, absolutely transfixed. He would find Jazz soon, but until then, he was going to learn everything he could about space from Coran. 

The paladins were huddled together, varying expressions on their faces.

“Wow, all the way from 2006. That’s before the third world war, isn’t it? Can’t imagine what it was like back then. And Illinois, of all places,” Lance hummed. 

“I’m more interested in finding out how he got all the way out here, locked in a thermos of all things. The timeline lines up, but the thermos and Danny himself are the big questions,” Pidge said. 

“Yeah, that’s a long time to be locked in a thermos. I wonder if it was cramped or anything. I mean, he was smoke in there, so maybe not, but,” Hunk swallowed thickly. “Danny seems… really intent on finding his sister,” Hunk stated. 

“That’s a potential issue… Pidge, did you check in with that Earth store yet about the thermos,” Shiro asked. 

Pidge averted her eyes. “I… I did. The owner said it’s been a part of their collection for as long as he can remember, which would be well over a century. Wherever his sister is… I honestly doubt we’ll find her.”

[hurt-care]

Or for Lupin, I've always wanted something on him dealing with the death of Sirius. Maybe his first really bad cold/flu and he's alone.

Well…he’s not entirely alone in this but I promise it’s angsty as hell for a while. Enjoy the feels ride….

Remus Lupin, cold

-Everything after the Ministry is a blur. There’s a rush of activity at Grimmauld Place as the Order gathers and tries to process the incident in the Department of Mysteries. And no one will really make eye contact with Remus. Plates of food appear in front of him and hands squeeze his shoulder in sympathy, but nothing more.

He nurses a glass of Firewhiskey with Bill and Arthur in the library and then excuses himself, heading upstairs. He pauses outside the room where Sirius had slept just last night but he cannot bring himself to open the door. Instead, he continues on to his own bare-bones room. It’s been stripped of all the garish luxuries of the Black family in favour of a simple quilt on the four-poster, a writing table, a bookshelf, and a dresser. Remus changes into a worn t-shirt and pyjama bottoms before crawling under the covers, feeling numb. He wants to cry, but he can’t make the tears come. Instead, he tosses and turns, head reeling with the fresh memory of his old friend disappearing beyond the veil. There’s the sound of Harry screaming echoing inside his head. There’s his own voice saying the terrible, terrible truth: “He’s gone”.

Sleep will not come. After hours of staring at the ceiling, he wanders downstairs. The Order has dispersed and he wonders for a moment if he’s all alone until he sees Bill’s boots and Fleur’s shoes at the door; they must’ve agreed to stay. He wishes that Tonks, his sometimes fellow insomniac, was here but she still lay injured in St. Mungo’s. Sometimes when Sirius was still alive, he’d make this same trip down to the kitchen at three in the morning to find her and Sirius sitting with cups of tea and playing cards. They’d deal him a hand and he’d play a few rounds until they all wandered back to bed and slept well past sunrise.

Tonight, the kitchen is empty. Remus pours another glass of Firewhiskey and lets it burn his throat. He pours another two fingers and takes the glass with him back upstairs. He tosses it back and crawls back into bed, burying himself under the quilts. Finally, sometime around four, he falls into an uneasy sleep.

It’s eleven before he wakes again. He thinks briefly about staying in bed but knows sooner or later someone will barge in insisting he come down for a cuppa. He goes and stands under the shower until the hot water has nearly scalded his skin, and then he dresses and goes downstairs.

Bill, Fleur, and Charlie are in the kitchen. They all say awkward morning greetings, clearly unsure of how to deal with the situation. Remus mumbles his greeting in return and pour a large mug of tea. He sits at the table in silence as the other three chatter casually.

“How’s Tonks?” he asks after a while.

Charlie looks at him and gives a small smile.

“She’ll be okay. I went to see her earlier this morning. Healer said she’ll probably be in another day or two and then she’ll be released.”

“Good,” Remus replies.

“You should go see her later,” Charlie suggests.

Remus shrugs and finishes his tea, washes his cup, and goes back to his room. In the mirror on top of his dresser he stares at his reflection and does not recognize the face that looks back. This man looks much older than mid-thirties. He’s seen much more than any thirty-something should.

He climbs back into bed and sleeps for the whole afternoon. He doesn’t feel like doing anything else. Bed is his old friend and old enemy all mixed into one complicated mess. It’s where he’s so often convalesced before and after full moons. He rarely spends time there if it isn’t necessary; it’s too tied up in the wolf. Today, sleep is a refuge from people and feelings. And Sirius.

Someone knocks on his door and calls that dinner is on the table. He shuffles downstairs and sits in his usual spot. Molly Weasley puts a plate in front of him with far more food than he can eat even on a good day. Bill sits down at his left in the chair that had normally been occupied by Sirius. Remus feels a surge of anger at this change in routine and stabs a potato with his fork.

The food tastes bland and sandy in his mouth. He forces it down, washing it away with a glass of water that he refills twice. Someone asks if he’s gone to see Tonks today and all he can do is shake his head.

When he’s cleared his plate and started to leave the kitchen, he can hear a small chattering of voices behind him. Arthur has been elected to confront him and he comes out into the hallway with a nervous smile.

“Remus,” he says. “Are you…Molly wanted me to ask if there’s anything you needed. If you’re doing okay, I mean?”

Remus shakes his head and forces a smile.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “I’m okay.”

How are you supposed to act when you’re mourning the death of someone you already spent a decade mourning? Losing Sirius a second time is not the same as the first, but it feels just as complicated.

With his hands in his pockets, Remus retreats back to the refuge of upstairs. He pauses again outside Sirius’ room; the one that he occupied for the past year, not the bedroom of his childhood that’s been left untouched. Remus pushes the door open and then shuts it behind himself, leaning against the heavy oak door and looking around the room. There’s a small pile of blankets on the floor next to the bed and Remus realizes with a pang that Sirius had not yet become re-accustomed to sleeping on a mattress. It had been the same when he’d showed up at Remus’ cottage after the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Although Remus had set up the couch for him, he found Sirius asleep on the ground in the morning.

There’s a few empty glasses on the bedside table with the dregs of Firewhiskey in them and a pack of unsmoked cigarettes on the bureau. Remus sits down on the bed and closes his eyes, riding the wave of emotions. It had all been unfair. Sirius should have never been locked up in this family prison. The Marauders should have never been torn apart like they were. Every day since Halloween 1981, Remus had wondered what life would have been like without Voldemort. And what his life would have been like with his friends still in it. And now, what life would have been like for Sirius if he’d been a free man.

But Sirius hadn’t been a free man, even after Azkaban.

Maybe it’s for the best, he thinks. And then he’s furious at himself for thinking of denying Harry his godfather. And he’s furious at Sirius for insisting on coming to the Department of Mysteries. And he hates himself for not be able to save him.

The tears come finally, bitter and frustrated and erratic. He flicks his wrist, summoning a cigarette, and lights it with the tip of his wand. The smoke burns his lungs and he coughs painfully but it feels good. He takes another long drag and chokes out a sob. By the time the cigarette is burned down to the filter, he’s calm and stony-faced again. He snuffs out the butt on Sirius’ nightstand and wipes his eyes.

He goes back to his room and realizes that he feels like shit. His head is pounding and there’s a dry tickle in his throat that he blames on the cigarette. All he wants to do again is sleep. He sheds his clothes in favour of the same tattered pyjamas and lays back down, head full of a fog. He sleeps through the night, though the rest is interrupted by bizarre dreams where he’s running towards Sirius and James and Lily and Harry but he can never reach them in time. He hears himself yelling but his mouth isn’t open. They don’t seem to hear him at all.

He wakes sometime in the early morning hours, five or six, and comes to consciousness with the realization that he still feels awful. Worse, actually. There’s a weight on his chest that compresses his lungs and a throbbing in his sinuses. Everything feels clammy. He stays in bed until the sun comes up and then decides he needs tea.

He peels himself out of the sweat-soaked sheets and goes to the shower, running the water as hot as he can stand once more and steps under the spray. His breath rattles and wheezes but no amount of coughing will clear it. By the time he’s out of the shower and getting dressed, he wonders if it’s worth going downstairs at all. The others are bound to notice, he thinks, as he looks at himself again in the mirror. The old man stares back at him with flushed cheeks and dark circled eyes.

If he wants tea, then he must go down. Kreacher will not take an order from a werewolf, no matter how many times Sirius had screamed at him to do otherwise. Remus huffs a series of coughs into his arm as he descends the stairs and by the time he reaches the kitchen, he feels weak and wobbly. To his great relief, the kitchen is empty. He sinks into a chair and uses some sloppy magic to make the tea, barely looking up as he does it. The brewed cup is weak, but it’s warm and makes his throat feel a little better with each sip. He’s just considering the hurdle of getting himself back upstairs before he’s interrupted by the sound of the front door and voices.

“Remus?” one voice that sounds like Bill calls.

With creaking knees, he stands and goes to the front hall. Charlie is helping Tonks to take her boots off as Bill holds her steady and Fleur and Kingsley hover nearby. Tonks looks up at him and he feels a conflict of emotions in his stomach. She looks exhausted and ill, and her hair is a dull brown. The injuries are taking up too much of her energy and she cannot focus enough to morph her hair.

But still, she smiles gently at him and removes her foot from her boot, pulling away from Bill’s supportive arm. She steps towards him and before he can move, she’s got her arms wrapped around him.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly into his ear. He shakes his head. What does she have to be sorry about?

“I should’ve prevented it. I shouldn’t have fallen for her tricks. I know better,” Tonks continues.

Remus puts a hand tentatively on her back and gently strokes his thumb along her spine in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

She pulls away, looking up at him. She doesn’t say anything more, but he can tell by her expression that she’s worried about him.

The pressure in his head has built to a point where it must be relieved and a sharp prickle in his nose gives him a moment’s notice. He turns away, cupping his hands over his nose and mouth, and jerks with a thick, heavy sneeze.

Hurhh-GSHHH!

“Bless you,” a few voices offer before he turns back, sniffling and blinking his sleep-swollen eyes.

“Tonks, you should still rest,” Charlie chimes in, breaking a moment’s awkward silence. “Your usual spare room should be ready for you.”

He extends his arm to Tonks but she hesitates, looking back at Remus.

“You okay?” she asks softly so only he can hear her. He nods.

“Alright,” she says, turning to take Charlie’s arm. They head upstairs as the others watch from the front hall. When the pair have disappeared around the corner of the upper landing, Kingsley turns to Remus and offers his hand.

“I’m sorry about Sirius, mate,” he says.

“Thank you,” Remus says, returning the handshake. He tries to keep his grip steady but his body is starting to tremble from the illness and what he suspects is the start of a fever. “Please excuse me.”

He walks past the group and ascends the stairs himself, going back to the refuge of his room. He won’t be coming downstairs again today, he thinks. There’s an empty water glass on his dresser and he fills it to the brim, setting it down on the nightstand. With effort, he performs a freshening spell on the bedsheets and changes back into his pyjamas before settling below the quilts.

Shivers run through him, chattering at his teeth and making his muscles ache. He hugs the quilt around himself, closing his eyes tightly and trying to fall back asleep, but he’s too congested and achy. The tightness in his chest rattles and he coughs brutally into the pillow before going limp.

Sleep won’t come this time, even after lying there for almost an hour. He cannot catch his breath and the grip of fever is starting to take hold. He sits up and gulps from the glass, cringing as the water passes down his sore throat. A stack of pillows makes a decent place for him to lean, propped up. He lets his head roll back against the top of the headboard as he stares listlessly at the ceiling. Thank god the moon isn’t for another week, or he’s certain he’d be in big trouble. Things were never good around the moon when he was hyper-emotional or already sick, and now he’s both of those things.

He starts to cough again, heavy and hacking and unrelenting. Just as he’s taking another sip of water and the coughing is dying down, there’s a soft knock at his door.

Fuck off, he wants to shout in the style of Sirius whenever he was in a mood. But Remus never acts like that. He’s the model of control. Instead, he responds “yes?”

The door creaks open and Tonks steps inside. She’s wearing jogger bottoms and a black tank-top with a large cropped t-shirt over it. Her hair, although still brown, looks to have a soft hint of pink.

“Hey,” she says, shutting the door behind her.

He pulls the quilts up self-consciously and rubs his nose, making sure his face is clear of snot.

“Can I stay a bit?” she asks softly.

He isn’t sure what to say to that, so he makes the obvious excuse.

“I think I’ve got the flu,” he croaks.

“I could hear you coughing,” she says, approaching the bed. She extends her hand and before he knows what is happening, his fringe is being pushed back and her small, cool hand is pressed to his brow. She sighs heavily.

“You’re burning up,” she says, lowering her hand to cup his cheek briefly.

He makes a small murmur of agreement.

“So you should probably go,” he says hoarsely.

“I can’t sleep,” she admits meekly. “I….I don’t really want to be alone.”

“I’m sure Charlie would sit with you,” he suggests.

“I want to be with someone who knew him,” she says.

Remus sniffles thickly and scrubs a hand across his weary face.

“I don’t want to pass this on.”

“I’ll take a potion later,” she says. “And you should probably take one now.”

“I can’t,” he says. “I have developed a rather significant intolerance to Pepper-Up over the years. S'what happens when it’s forced on you monthly.”

“Fever reducer, then.”

“Don’t have any,” he replies wearily. “Just let me rest, Dora. It’ll go away.”

The bed dips beside him and he looks up to see she’s climbed in.

“C'mere,” she says, sitting next to him and holding out her arms.

“Tonks,” he says warily. “I-”

“Remus,” she interrupts. “Please. I just….I want to touch someone right now.”

He reluctantly settles against her and she reaches to push his hair out of his face, stroking it back with long, gentle rakes of her fingers. He hasn’t been touched like this in recent memory and it releases a rush of emotions. His mother and Lily swim into his thoughts and his heart aches at the sight of each of them. He sighs heavily with a rattle to his breath and Tonks kisses the top of his head.

The tears threaten to come but he keeps them back, instead sniffling and closing his eyes. Tonks keeps stroking his hair and he can feel himself starting to relax, but his nose won’t allow it. He suddenly pulls away, leaning towards the opposite side of the bed and sneezing thickly.

Hurshh-TSCHHHH!

“Oh Remus,” she says sympathetically.

He shakes his head.

“I am an idiot,” he says as he wipes a wrist under his nose. “I didn’t even ask about you.”

“I’m fine,” she says softly. “They just wanted to make sure there wasn’t any lasting spell damage.”

“And there’s not?” he confirms.

“No. I’m just sore. I’ll be alright.”

He settles his head back against her chest and she resumes stroking his hair. The ache of fever is pulsing in him now and he feels the threat of sleep pulling heavily on his eyelids. Tonks reclines against the headboard, holding him close, and their breathing evens out together as they fall asleep.

The next thing he knows, he’s awake and something cold is touching his face. He opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep and trying to get his bearings. Tonks is still there but he’s lying down against the pillows now and she’s at his side, dabbing a flannel across his forehead and cheeks.

He tries to make a sound to ask about what has happened, but she smiles gently at him and seems to know that he cannot get out more than the low groan that issues from his lips.

“I know,” she says. “There’s some fever reducer coming by owl any minutes. You’re running quite the fever. Molly is downstairs putting some soup together for you.”

He winces and closes his eyes, embarrassed by all the attention.

“Here,” she says and he feels her reach to lift his head a little. “Drink.”

A glass of water is tipped to his lips and he drinks it messily, sloshing it across the bedsheets. She remedies it with a quick drying charm and then resumes her routine of pressing the cool cloth to his feverish skin.

“I…I’ll be okay with some more sleep,” he croaks out.

“Bill says you’ve done basically nothing but sleep for the past few days,” she replies. “I know you’re sad; we all are. But you need to take care of yourself.”

“But I-” he begins but then rolls away slightly and turns his nose into the pillow.

“Hhh-ngh'TSCHHT! Tonks, I…Hehh-TSXHT!”

She flicks her wand and summons a fresh handkerchief for him. He takes it gratefully and presses it to his nose.

“Ehh-ngh'GHSHTT! Ugh I ca—ahh-tsgh'GHT!! Ngh'XHT! ‘GHXT! Fuck…it itch—heh'TSGHHT!”

He blows his nose heavily, ending the fit for the time being, and he rubs his reddened nose vigorously.

There’s a tapping at the window and Tonks leaps up.

“That’ll be the potions,” she said, going to open the window. She returned with a paper bag tied with twine. Out of it came three bottles and a small tin of balm.

“For your nose and lips,” she said, handing over the little tin.

“Thanks,” he croaks.

“And Fever-Reducer and Cough-Eaze. Take both of these and I bet you’ll be feeling a lot better.”

She doses out each and Remus swallows them dutifully before he sets about dabbing the cream from the tin onto his chapped nose. The skin there prickles for a moment before setting down and returning to its normal hue.

“Better?” she asks, capping the potions. His body rushes with a cool shiver running down through his veins and it feels a bit like being submerged in a swimming pool on a hot day. The fever is going down for sure. He takes a testing breath and finds he can keep from coughing.

“Yes, better,” he says wearily. “Still don’t feel great.”

“I know,” she says, climbing back onto the bed and curling up behind him and snuggling into his shoulder. “I think it’ll be a while before either of us is back to normal.”

He knows she is talking about Sirius.

“Remus?” she says softly. “Do you….do you want to talk about him?”

Remus doesn’t reply right away. What was there to say that had not been already said? Sirius should not have left Grimmauld in the first place, he should’ve been a more responsible godfather, and if he could’ve only learned to control his rashness then he’d be alive today. And if he’d learned that lesson early on, he might’ve even avoided a life in prison.

“I don’t know,” he says finally and she nods against his back, kissing him at the base of his neck.

“I know, me either,” she says. “It’s not fair.”

Most things aren’t fair. Look at my life, he thinks but he does not say it. It already feels a bit like a pity party and he doesn’t want any part of it.

“I’m sorry you lost him twice,” she continues quietly. “I remember how upset my mum was when it happened…the first time, I mean. I can’t imagine how it was for you.”

Lonely. Terrifying. Painful.

“It was not the best year of my life,” he says, giving perhaps the biggest understatement of his life. He’d nearly died after the November transformation thanks to the wolf’s hyper-charged emotional state and the sudden lack of Animagi companions. He’d been allowed to transform in the Shrieking Shack again for just one full moon so that he’d have someone to look in on him after. It took Madam Pomfrey three days to bring him back to consciousness and another ten days to recover.

“At least now you’re here, with us,” she says, planting another kiss on his neck.

He murmurs a sound of agreement. She’s right. As much as he wants to fall asleep and not think about any of it ever again, the feeling of her arms around him is a great comfort.

Ehh-tshGHXHHT!

And there’s that. He shivers with the outburst of a sneeze and she sighs in sympathy, summoning his handkerchief from the nightstand. He’s very glad for her attention and the potions, which seem to have started to work. He blows his nose and finds the congestion much looser and easier to move. His left nostril clears and he feels a great relief at being able to take at least a partial breath through his nose.

“Any better?” she asks.

He nods and wipes his nose one last time before putting the handkerchief back. Rolling over to face her, he reaches out and wraps his arms around her.

“Thank you,” he says wearily, closing his eyes and resting his head against her shoulder.

The next morning she is gone but he wakes with things feeling just a tiny bit brighter. He gets himself dressed and down to the kitchen to find her at the table. She grins at him and pats the seat next to her. There’s something in her smile that’s so unmistakably Sirius that he momentarily loses track of all other thought and stares at her.

“I’m sorry,” he stammers. “It’s just…I don’t think I ever realized…you smile just like him.”

“Those inbred Black genetics are strong,” she teases before turning more solemn. “But you’re not the first. Mum says the same thing. I don’t really remember him from when I was a kid though. When he was at Hogwarts.”

“Well,” Remus begins, sitting down at the table beside her. “I can tell you that the first time I saw him, he told me to get my, and I quote, 'skinny weird arse out of my way’ so that he could get into a compartment with some less desirable relations of yours. An unexpected Sorting and one week later, I think I saw that grin for the first time when James pulled a prank on the rest of us boys in our dormitory.”

He wanders off into the memories that he hasn’t shared in a very long time. They’re both laughing themselves silly by mid-morning, sharing recollections of Hogwarts. It feels a bit odd, laughing with such abandon so soon after they’ve lost Sirius, but Remus thinks that somehow it’s strangely perfect.

Next to him, Tonks giggles and grins that Black family smile at him. Strangely perfect, indeed.