DROWNING IN A GLASS

Author: Pixie-Rings

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Remus/Sirius, Remus/Tonks, Remus/OMC

Genre: angst, dark Rating: R

Disclaimer: Belongs to J.K Rowling. If I were she, I'd be rich, which is a reason not to sue me. I own nothing except the clothes on my back, the glasses on my face and the cats on my sofa.

Word count: 1,008

Warnings: alcoholism, infidelity

Summary: Remus can't find any other refuge than at the bottom of a glass…

A/N: first of all this is Tonks-bashing. Second off, alcoholic!Remus started off as a steady joke in the Deathly Hallows Uberwank over on LJ. It was a good (and frighteningly plausible) answer to Remus's extreme OOCishness in DH, so I had to take it up a notch here and make it angsty. Now I'm not very good at angst, so if it's not angsty enough, I'm sorry.

xxXxXxx

Remus picks up the glass and downs it once more. The liquid doesn't even burn his throat anymore. He's numb; he's been like it for ages, every moment he wasn't on a mission. Every time he wasn't scrapping with dysfunctional werewolves he would drown his woes in a bottle of Firewhiskey. Funny how Sirius's habits have passed onto him. He orders a refill and is pleased to see the barman doesn't tell him he's had too much. It's a seedy place, Remus is practically positive he won't. Here the barman minds his own business.

"God, you look stoned, mate." Says a voice from his right.

He frowns and looks at the man who's just sat down on the barstool next to his, and has ordered a whiskey just like him. He opens his mouth to say something scathing, and finds he can't, because this bloke looks like Sirius. Same hair, same cheeky grin. God, how he's missed that. So he shrugs.

"What's it to you how much I drink?" He says, staring at the amber liquid that is simply one of many fluid sanctuaries he's tried to find refuge in. It's not exactly working, but at least he's as far from the hideous reality as he can get. Away from dead Sirius and that wife of his...

"You look like you need a shoulder to cry on." Says the bloke, grinning as he sips. Remus looks at him, eyes narrowed.

"You really don't want to hear my rant." He says, a ghost of a grin on his lips. He hasn't smiled for days, not since she told him she was up the pole. The bloke laughs.

"Want me to go first? Ok then... I just lost my job for making a joke about some bird's tits, and she managed to pass it off as sexual molestation and discrimination. Not only am I on the dole, but I have to pay the stupid bitch compensation." He says, sighing and downing the glass. Remus chuckles quietly.

"That's shit, but I've got a better one. I'm a gay werewolf stuck in a train wreck of a forced marriage to a childish brat I've managed to knock up God only knows how. The only person I've ever loved spent twelve years unjustly imprisoned only to break out and get murdered by his cousin. We're stuck in a dead-end war and our only hope is laid on the shoulders of a seventeen-year-old who's about as perceptive as a rock and his equally adolescent best friends. Furthermore, I'm now a raging alcoholic." He finishes with a bitter laugh and orders another refill. The other man whistles.

"Wow, that's a good one. And I thought my life was crap."

He imitates Remus in getting another top up and soon they're drinking together, listing every problem they've ever had. Remus learns his name is Sid, he's gay, but evidently doesn't seem it or the judge is a homophobic feminist slag, and he's got a sick mother to look after.

"Multiple sclerosis." He says sadly, swirling his glass and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his other hand. Remus sighs.

"My mother had cancer. She died in 1985. Dad didn't take long to go after that." He says. A few more glasses and the only things more hammered than they are are nails. They stagger back to Sid's flat, end up fucking, and completely brain-dead in the morning. It's the best fuck Remus has had for a long time, considering all he's touched (he shudders at the thought) for ages is her. God, it makes him hate her more than ever. No he doesn't hate her, she's only a child, he hates that he was weak enough to give in to his pain so easily. He sees Sid's not there, and looks up to see him standing in the doorway, smoking. He offers the packet.

"Want one?"

Remus sighs.

"I haven't smoked since I was twenty-four. I'm dying for one."

As soon as he lights up and inhales the sharp smoke, he feels in heaven. He throws himself back with a small moan, and feels the bed shift as Sid sits down.

"You should be getting back to wifey-poos..." He says with a smirk. Remus frowns and tries to make smoke rings, failing miserably. Sirius could do that, and James, when he was stoned. After that, he takes a shower and stands at the door, ready to leave.

"Tell me when the kid is born, you know where I live." Says Sid, grinning. Remus nods and leaves, Apparating to the nearest offy to grab a bottle.

"Where were you last night?" She demands when he returns. It makes him wish he hadn't. He shrugs.

"It's none of your business." He mutters. Tonks bites her lip worriedly.

"You haven't been staying at home for ages. Are you angry with me?"

Remus looks at her. Was his fear of rejection so bad he had to marry a mere child? Someone twelve years younger? Someone he doesn't even love? He goes to the living room and opens the drinks cabinet, filling a glass with his new bottle.

"No, not angry. Bitter. Very, very bitter."

xxXxXxx

When Teddy is born, he feels love for something in this void and empty world, something he hasn't felt since Sirius died. He glances at Tonks and she smiles at him wearily, but he doesn't smile back. His eyes are only for Teddy.

He remembers the promise he made to Sid, that he should go and tell him. He does do that, but he gets no answer. He learns from the lady next door Sid slit his wrists a few weeks ago when they repossessed the flat it had taken him ages to get a mortgage for. Remus ends up wondering whether he should do that, as he seeks solace in another seedy bar, in another full glass, in another drunken stupor. But then he remembers Teddy, with his eyes and, when he's moody, Sirius's hair, and decides he has a reason to live a little longer.

xxXxXxx

Yeah, I fucking HATE Tonks, and I'm a mean, vicious Slytherin cow. Live with it.