Wolfstar reaper AU (700 words)
Everything is hazy, and time flows inconsistently for what must be a while. Flickers of recent memory feel dreamlike, drifting away, but memories of life are still clear. Remus knows he is dead now, that much is certain. And yet, he still hasn’t gone on, to whatever is next. He is stuck somehow. Haze drifts back in. If he sleeps, then he dreams of ice blue eyes, and the sight of them honed in on himself, as he walked up the subway steps with hundreds of others.
The others had passed through, accompanied by three other cloaked figures—reapers—but Remus had stayed. This happened more than once. The reaper who watched him eventually spoke, or Remus dreamt he had. His name is Sirius. Remus remembers that much.
They’re standing alone together now, in the subway station.
“I mean,” Remus starts. “It’s a big commitment.”
“Hundreds of years,” Remus realizes while saying it. “Of this.”
“Thousands, sometimes,” the reaper corrects. “I believe.”
“Well.” The reaper thinks, and glances around. He taps something against the cobbled wall behind them. It’s the first time Remus notices the anachronism of their surroundings. Amidst a yellow-glowing subway station, two flights of stairs stretch up, then round a corner out of sight. The cobblestone wall stretches backwards behind them, lush grass on the other side.
The reaper jumps up to sit atop the wall. He swings his legs, making him look younger. “One does it for a long time, until they lose their humanity.”
Remus shifts, uncomfortable.
“It helps to have attachments,” the reaper adds.
“Attachments to what? This is just limbo. Isn’t it?”
The reaper—Sirius—turns to face Remus directly. Remus tries to not look away. His face is hauntingly handsome, even despite their situation. “Attachments to others. Others they love.”
Remus breathes in, then out, then sits on the wall as well. He can remember his life easily, but he also remembers walking up these subway station stairs over and over, surrounded by other people. Other people that aren’t here anymore. “How long have I been here already? In this, this, pseudo-death?”
“The in-between?” Sirius offers.
The reaper doesn’t answer.
“How long have you been here?” Remus asks.
“How long?”
“Hundreds of years, definitely. Possibly thousands.”
“How have you done it? Maintained your… humanity, I guess?”
The reaper stills his hand. Remus doesn’t notice until the sound stops, but Sirius had been tapping something against the wall. It looks like an ancient coin, possibly medieval.
“It was foretold that I would get to love someone eventually.”
Remus concentrates on their surroundings. He can almost see the walls shimmer under scrutiny. “Is that person me?”
“Then I suppose I don’t have a choice. I have to become one of you and stay here.” To become a reaper, and spend an indefinite time helping humans cross between life and death. To Remus it feels… cold.
“There is always a choice, Remus Lupin. Do not forget that you must always choose your own path.”
“What happens if I stay?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” the reaper admits. “I would free your soul from your body, and both would depart this space. Both would have peace, for you were good in life, but I don’t believe that peace would be something you consider consciousness.”
“Okay. Then I’m choosing.”
“What are you choosing, Remus Lupin?”
Sirius looks up, breath catching. “You must be certain. Are you?”
“For the rituals to work, I mean. Do you have a strong reason to stay and become who you will? And do what you will do?”
Remus thinks. He thinks for a long time—they seem to have nothing but it here. They just sit in silence; Sirius taps his coin again. Eventually, Remus speaks.
“In life, I had friends, and I had a pleasant network of people who supported me, and who I supported. I don’t quite know why I had to die so young, but I know these things sometimes just happen. But I’ve never been in love. I would like to know what that’s like.”
Sirius looks at him. “I love you, Remus Lupin. I have loved you your entire life.”
