Go On, Try
Jul. 23rd, 2014 05:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starfishstarGO ON, TRY
Summary: Remus has returned to Tonks, and Remus and Ted have a conversation. A sequel to "Already There."
Characters: Remus, Ted, Tonks
Words: ~1,800
Story:
Remus woke early, that first morning after he returned to Tonks at her parents’ house.
He didn’t exactly relish the thought of running into Andromeda or Ted if he went downstairs, but even less did he want to stay and risk waking Tonks, who was sleeping peacefully, one arm flung over his chest and an almost-smile on her resting face. Her hair was brown, as it always was when she slept, and it tugged at Remus’ heart to see her like this, looking so open and undefended.
He still couldn’t quite believe she’d allowed him to sleep beside her this night, after the way he’d panicked and abandoned her, then skulked home again with his metaphorical tail slung low between his legs. Against all probability, she seemed inclined to forgive him, despite her still-evident anger.
Remus slid with great care from beneath her arm, laying it back down gently on the half of her childhood bed where he had slept. He gazed at her another moment, then found his clothes and slipped from the room and down the stairs.
When Remus looked in the kitchen, Ted was sitting there, blithely buttering a piece of toast as if his household hadn’t been turned upside down the day before, when Remus had returned.
Well. Remus wasn’t going to hide from Tonks or from her parents. He’d done enough running and hiding. He squared his shoulders, entered the room and said, “Good morning, Ted.”
Tonks’ father looked up. “Good morning, Remus.” His tone was neutral – Remus wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Ted not be affable – and there was no way to tell what he was thinking. He eyed Remus calmly. “Toast?”
Not the opening conversational gambit Remus had expected. “Er, no, thanks,” he said. “I’m fine.”
“Want a cuppa, then?” Ted pressed. Clearly seeing that Remus was about to decline that as well, he added, “You can make me one, too, while you’re at it. Kettle’s over there, and there’s breakfast tea in the cupboard. Or Earl Grey, if you prefer that. Andromeda does.”
Thus cornered into having tea with Tonks’ dad, Remus nodded and slipped his wand from his pocket to heat the kettle. He found tea in the cupboard – proper loose-leaf tea, Remus couldn’t help but note with appreciation – and measured it into two tea balls he found in a drawer, all the while aware of Ted’s eyes on him.
Remus brought their two teacups to the table and set them down there to steep, then took the seat across from Ted. The kitchen table was round and fairly small, not like the long, elegant one in the dining room, where they had sat the first time Tonks had brought him home for lunch with her parents. This table might just fit the four of them if they squeezed.
Not that Remus intended to impinge on the family’s hospitality any longer than necessary. He and Tonks could surely find a place of their own again. But it was too early to assume anything. If she didn’t want that, he would find somewhere else to stay.
Ted nodded his thanks for the tea Remus had set in front of him and pushed his plate of toast a little to the side. “Sleep well?” he asked.
“Yes, thanks,” Remus said, still with an uncomfortable sensation of waiting for the axe to fall. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”
“Remus,” Ted said. “I can tell what you’re thinking. This is the part where I’m supposed to threaten you, or demand to know your intentions towards my daughter, right? But I’ve never been much for threatening. Or demanding, for that matter. And I think you’ve made your intentions clear.”
“Er,” Remus said.
“When you married Dora, you promised to love and cherish her, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Remus said, and despite the seriousness of the situation, he felt a smile tugging at his lips at the memory of that simple ceremony, how radiantly Tonks had looked at him, how joyful he’d felt as he gazed back at her.
“Well,” Ted said. “Does that still stand?”
“Yes,” Remus said, with feeling. He meant it more than ever.
“All right, then,” Ted said. “Then all I can do is trust you to carry through on that.”
For the second time in as many days, Remus was speechless. First Andromeda and now Ted, both giving him their blessing, trusting him to do it right this time.
“I – but – thank you,” he managed.
“I know Andromeda talked to you last night,” Ted added. “I think she’s right, you know. Your heart’s telling you exactly the right things. And I think you know that.”
Remus nodded. He did. The trouble came in believing himself about it.
“Still, Remus,” Ted said, more softly now. “That’s my little girl up there.” He lifted his chin in the direction of Tonks’ bedroom, upstairs. “Please be good to her.”
“I – yes,” Remus said. “Yes.”
Ted gave him another of those calm, searching looks, then nodded and reached for his tea, removing the tea ball and sipping to see whether it was cool enough to drink. Remus picked up his cup as well, mostly for something to do with his hands.
“Ted–” he said. “May I ask you something?”
Ted nodded again and sipped his tea.
“Dora has been – unbelievably forgiving. She truly seems to want me to stay. And I certainly will, if that’s what she wants. But I can’t help wondering – what good can I do her? Why would she even – why would she want me with her after all this?”
No, that had been too personal. He shouldn’t have asked that of Ted, Ted who he hardly knew.
Ted set his tea down and leaned forward, elbows on the tabletop. “Let me tell you a story, all right?” he said.
Remus nodded, wary, but knowing it was too late to back out of the question.
“There was this guy,” Ted said, “whose name was also Tonks, as it happens. And he really, really loved this girl. And he was lucky enough that she loved him too. But for a number of difficult reasons, she wasn’t sure they could be together. She left him waiting for a long time before he got a clear answer on that point. No, it wasn’t always easy. And yes, he could have given up at any time, looked for someone without all those complications – although, really, which of us is without complications?” His gaze on Remus was piercing, a more intent expression than Remus had ever seen from Ted. “My point is, Remus, do you think it was worth it?”
Remus didn’t even need to look around himself to know the answer. This cosy home they ‘d made for themselves, Ted and Andromeda. The tender way the two of them still looked at each other, two and a half decades on. “Yes,” he said softly. “Yes, of course.”
Ted nodded, satisfied. “And that’s your answer.” He picked up his tea again. After a moment, he added, “For what it’s worth, that girl wasn’t sure she should be a parent, either. She was terrified of making the same mistakes as her parents had done.”
“It’s not the same–” Remus began, panic rising in his chest again at the very thought, the same desperate panic that had whited out everything else and driven him to flee. What if the child is like me?
“I know,” Ted said, raising a placating hand. “I know. Of course it’s not the same. But I do believe you’ll be a good father, if you want to be.”
“I do want to be,” Remus said, hoarse, surprising himself with how instantly the answer came. He thought of Harry’s expression as he told Remus he was ashamed of him for even considering abandoning his child. He thought of James, dark, tired circles under his eyes, yet somehow always smiling. Remus thought of the unknown child that would be his, and felt such love it overwhelmed him. “Oh, Merlin, I do.”
“Then that’s a lucky child, regardless,” Ted said.
Remus nodded, reached for his tea almost blindly and took a gulping sip, still too full of emotion to meet Ted’s eyes. He hadn’t quite allowed himself to think of the baby as a person, as his child. He hadn’t allowed himself to think past the curse he might have passed on, and how he could possibly undo the damage he had caused. But now that he had thought of the baby as a child he loved, there could be no going back. Nor would he want there to be.
Remus looked up to find Ted watching him, assessing and calm. He seemed satisfied with what he saw in Remus’ face. After a pause, Ted asked, “Want some toast, then?”
Remus half-laughed, feeling that the tension of their conversation had broken, and said, “All right. But I’ll make it.”
He rose and went to the magical toaster, a contraption with a built-in warming charm and slots for two slices of bread. When he returned to the table, he and Ted sat over their toast in peaceable silence.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, then Tonks was standing in the kitchen doorway, blinking at the sight of them together, her husband and her father. She must have read something in their easy body language, though, because her stance softened too, and Remus caught a glimpse of a smile – the first real smile since he’d returned – as she shuffled towards the toaster, her steps just that little bit lighter than they had been the day before.
“Wotcher,” she yawned.
“Good morning, Dora,” Remus said.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Ted said.
Tonks dropped more toast into the slots and activated the charm, then turned and looked at the two of them, her gaze sleepy yet alert. “You’re both up early,” she said. She scrunched up her face and her hair went spiky and purple.
Seeing her do that again, seeing her happy enough to transform her appearance effortlessly, made Remus’ heart leap. Tonks must have caught his expression, because she left the toast warming and came over to stand beside him, her hand coming to rest lightly on his shoulder. No good morning kiss, not yet, but her hand squeezed gently, warm even through the fabric of his shirt.
“We’re overdue for a good, long conversation, aren’t we?” she asked, her voice soft.
Remus nodded and reached up to cover her hand with his own.
“Dad?” said Tonks.
“Hm?” Ted replied, from where he’d been trying to look absorbed in his toast, and not at all in their interaction. “Well, I’m finished anyway. Why don’t you take my seat?”
Ted rose, making way for Tonks to sit down. He took his cup and plate to the basin and set them to washing themselves, then nodded to both of them before quietly leaving them alone in the kitchen.
Tonks slid into the seat across from Remus. “So,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. “You and me. Let’s talk.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
End note: There’s a prequel (Andromeda and Remus’ conversation the previous evening) here: “Already There.”
The story of Ted and Andromeda (“that girl” he really, really loved!) is here: “A New World Bursting into Bloom.”
Summary: Remus has returned to Tonks, and Remus and Ted have a conversation. A sequel to "Already There."
Characters: Remus, Ted, Tonks
Words: ~1,800
Story:
Remus woke early, that first morning after he returned to Tonks at her parents’ house.
He didn’t exactly relish the thought of running into Andromeda or Ted if he went downstairs, but even less did he want to stay and risk waking Tonks, who was sleeping peacefully, one arm flung over his chest and an almost-smile on her resting face. Her hair was brown, as it always was when she slept, and it tugged at Remus’ heart to see her like this, looking so open and undefended.
He still couldn’t quite believe she’d allowed him to sleep beside her this night, after the way he’d panicked and abandoned her, then skulked home again with his metaphorical tail slung low between his legs. Against all probability, she seemed inclined to forgive him, despite her still-evident anger.
Remus slid with great care from beneath her arm, laying it back down gently on the half of her childhood bed where he had slept. He gazed at her another moment, then found his clothes and slipped from the room and down the stairs.
When Remus looked in the kitchen, Ted was sitting there, blithely buttering a piece of toast as if his household hadn’t been turned upside down the day before, when Remus had returned.
Well. Remus wasn’t going to hide from Tonks or from her parents. He’d done enough running and hiding. He squared his shoulders, entered the room and said, “Good morning, Ted.”
Tonks’ father looked up. “Good morning, Remus.” His tone was neutral – Remus wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Ted not be affable – and there was no way to tell what he was thinking. He eyed Remus calmly. “Toast?”
Not the opening conversational gambit Remus had expected. “Er, no, thanks,” he said. “I’m fine.”
“Want a cuppa, then?” Ted pressed. Clearly seeing that Remus was about to decline that as well, he added, “You can make me one, too, while you’re at it. Kettle’s over there, and there’s breakfast tea in the cupboard. Or Earl Grey, if you prefer that. Andromeda does.”
Thus cornered into having tea with Tonks’ dad, Remus nodded and slipped his wand from his pocket to heat the kettle. He found tea in the cupboard – proper loose-leaf tea, Remus couldn’t help but note with appreciation – and measured it into two tea balls he found in a drawer, all the while aware of Ted’s eyes on him.
Remus brought their two teacups to the table and set them down there to steep, then took the seat across from Ted. The kitchen table was round and fairly small, not like the long, elegant one in the dining room, where they had sat the first time Tonks had brought him home for lunch with her parents. This table might just fit the four of them if they squeezed.
Not that Remus intended to impinge on the family’s hospitality any longer than necessary. He and Tonks could surely find a place of their own again. But it was too early to assume anything. If she didn’t want that, he would find somewhere else to stay.
Ted nodded his thanks for the tea Remus had set in front of him and pushed his plate of toast a little to the side. “Sleep well?” he asked.
“Yes, thanks,” Remus said, still with an uncomfortable sensation of waiting for the axe to fall. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”
“Remus,” Ted said. “I can tell what you’re thinking. This is the part where I’m supposed to threaten you, or demand to know your intentions towards my daughter, right? But I’ve never been much for threatening. Or demanding, for that matter. And I think you’ve made your intentions clear.”
“Er,” Remus said.
“When you married Dora, you promised to love and cherish her, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Remus said, and despite the seriousness of the situation, he felt a smile tugging at his lips at the memory of that simple ceremony, how radiantly Tonks had looked at him, how joyful he’d felt as he gazed back at her.
“Well,” Ted said. “Does that still stand?”
“Yes,” Remus said, with feeling. He meant it more than ever.
“All right, then,” Ted said. “Then all I can do is trust you to carry through on that.”
For the second time in as many days, Remus was speechless. First Andromeda and now Ted, both giving him their blessing, trusting him to do it right this time.
“I – but – thank you,” he managed.
“I know Andromeda talked to you last night,” Ted added. “I think she’s right, you know. Your heart’s telling you exactly the right things. And I think you know that.”
Remus nodded. He did. The trouble came in believing himself about it.
“Still, Remus,” Ted said, more softly now. “That’s my little girl up there.” He lifted his chin in the direction of Tonks’ bedroom, upstairs. “Please be good to her.”
“I – yes,” Remus said. “Yes.”
Ted gave him another of those calm, searching looks, then nodded and reached for his tea, removing the tea ball and sipping to see whether it was cool enough to drink. Remus picked up his cup as well, mostly for something to do with his hands.
“Ted–” he said. “May I ask you something?”
Ted nodded again and sipped his tea.
“Dora has been – unbelievably forgiving. She truly seems to want me to stay. And I certainly will, if that’s what she wants. But I can’t help wondering – what good can I do her? Why would she even – why would she want me with her after all this?”
No, that had been too personal. He shouldn’t have asked that of Ted, Ted who he hardly knew.
Ted set his tea down and leaned forward, elbows on the tabletop. “Let me tell you a story, all right?” he said.
Remus nodded, wary, but knowing it was too late to back out of the question.
“There was this guy,” Ted said, “whose name was also Tonks, as it happens. And he really, really loved this girl. And he was lucky enough that she loved him too. But for a number of difficult reasons, she wasn’t sure they could be together. She left him waiting for a long time before he got a clear answer on that point. No, it wasn’t always easy. And yes, he could have given up at any time, looked for someone without all those complications – although, really, which of us is without complications?” His gaze on Remus was piercing, a more intent expression than Remus had ever seen from Ted. “My point is, Remus, do you think it was worth it?”
Remus didn’t even need to look around himself to know the answer. This cosy home they ‘d made for themselves, Ted and Andromeda. The tender way the two of them still looked at each other, two and a half decades on. “Yes,” he said softly. “Yes, of course.”
Ted nodded, satisfied. “And that’s your answer.” He picked up his tea again. After a moment, he added, “For what it’s worth, that girl wasn’t sure she should be a parent, either. She was terrified of making the same mistakes as her parents had done.”
“It’s not the same–” Remus began, panic rising in his chest again at the very thought, the same desperate panic that had whited out everything else and driven him to flee. What if the child is like me?
“I know,” Ted said, raising a placating hand. “I know. Of course it’s not the same. But I do believe you’ll be a good father, if you want to be.”
“I do want to be,” Remus said, hoarse, surprising himself with how instantly the answer came. He thought of Harry’s expression as he told Remus he was ashamed of him for even considering abandoning his child. He thought of James, dark, tired circles under his eyes, yet somehow always smiling. Remus thought of the unknown child that would be his, and felt such love it overwhelmed him. “Oh, Merlin, I do.”
“Then that’s a lucky child, regardless,” Ted said.
Remus nodded, reached for his tea almost blindly and took a gulping sip, still too full of emotion to meet Ted’s eyes. He hadn’t quite allowed himself to think of the baby as a person, as his child. He hadn’t allowed himself to think past the curse he might have passed on, and how he could possibly undo the damage he had caused. But now that he had thought of the baby as a child he loved, there could be no going back. Nor would he want there to be.
Remus looked up to find Ted watching him, assessing and calm. He seemed satisfied with what he saw in Remus’ face. After a pause, Ted asked, “Want some toast, then?”
Remus half-laughed, feeling that the tension of their conversation had broken, and said, “All right. But I’ll make it.”
He rose and went to the magical toaster, a contraption with a built-in warming charm and slots for two slices of bread. When he returned to the table, he and Ted sat over their toast in peaceable silence.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, then Tonks was standing in the kitchen doorway, blinking at the sight of them together, her husband and her father. She must have read something in their easy body language, though, because her stance softened too, and Remus caught a glimpse of a smile – the first real smile since he’d returned – as she shuffled towards the toaster, her steps just that little bit lighter than they had been the day before.
“Wotcher,” she yawned.
“Good morning, Dora,” Remus said.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Ted said.
Tonks dropped more toast into the slots and activated the charm, then turned and looked at the two of them, her gaze sleepy yet alert. “You’re both up early,” she said. She scrunched up her face and her hair went spiky and purple.
Seeing her do that again, seeing her happy enough to transform her appearance effortlessly, made Remus’ heart leap. Tonks must have caught his expression, because she left the toast warming and came over to stand beside him, her hand coming to rest lightly on his shoulder. No good morning kiss, not yet, but her hand squeezed gently, warm even through the fabric of his shirt.
“We’re overdue for a good, long conversation, aren’t we?” she asked, her voice soft.
Remus nodded and reached up to cover her hand with his own.
“Dad?” said Tonks.
“Hm?” Ted replied, from where he’d been trying to look absorbed in his toast, and not at all in their interaction. “Well, I’m finished anyway. Why don’t you take my seat?”
Ted rose, making way for Tonks to sit down. He took his cup and plate to the basin and set them to washing themselves, then nodded to both of them before quietly leaving them alone in the kitchen.
Tonks slid into the seat across from Remus. “So,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. “You and me. Let’s talk.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
End note: There’s a prequel (Andromeda and Remus’ conversation the previous evening) here: “Already There.”
The story of Ted and Andromeda (“that girl” he really, really loved!) is here: “A New World Bursting into Bloom.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-07-24 02:58 am (UTC)Seriously, it's great to see the Ted follow-up to the Andromeda conversation. I really like your take on both Ted and Andromeda, the way they see through Remus's own confusion and fear straight to what his heart wants, and the way they are willing to give him enough trust to let him get there. Ted hits on a brilliant idea here, sharing his own story to force Remus to see that it's going to be (or, would have been *sniff*) worth it to Tonks to stick out the rough patches and really make a home and family with him.
I also really like the way Remus and Tonks know each other well enough to read an expression (or a morph!) or body language and understand what's going on.
no subject
Date: 2014-07-25 02:08 pm (UTC)I wasn't even intending to write a second story, with Ted, but then it sort of...happened. And since I'd been thinking/writing about Andromeda and Ted's story a lot lately (and stereolightning pointed out some similarities in the two couples' dynamics!) that wiggled its way in.
I wasn't sure if I'd had them both in fact go *too* easy on Remus, so I'm glad it seems to work!
no subject
Date: 2014-08-21 09:33 pm (UTC)I've got two favourite parts, the first for making me LOL:
"...And I think you’ve made your intentions clear.”
“Er,” Remus said.
And the second because, despite Ted's apparent lack of threats and demands, he makes his point perfectly clear:
“Still, Remus,” Ted said, more softly now. “That’s my little girl up there.” He lifted his chin in the direction of Tonks’ bedroom, upstairs. “Please be good to her.”
“I – yes,” Remus said. “Yes.”
The ending feels just right. Because for all these two may have talked prior to this point, it feels as though it's only now that they really will.
no subject
Date: 2014-08-22 07:32 pm (UTC)And, yeah, Andromeda and Ted *totally* compared notes. Remus is definitely getting the whole Tonks-family Serious Discussion Despite The Fact That We're Not Shouting About It thing from all sides!