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[theshabbiestofmen]

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[theshabbiestofmen]

That sounds about right.

[He sighs again and moves to lie on his stomach.]

The problem with Sirius is that while he's incredibly cruel at times, he can also be incredibly thoughtful. My transformations . . . when I was a child, my mother used to risk being bit by me, being killed by me, because she couldn't stand hearing me scream and not being able to do anything about it. The pain is . . . it doesn't last, but I usually have to stay in bed for the next two days, because it's so exhausting.

When they figured out what I was, when I was thirteen, I really did think I was done for. Werewolves are pariahs in our society; I figured they'd either beat me or out my secret-- or perhaps both. But what they did . . .

[He smiles vaguely, remembering.]

Every person has an animal they're intricately associated with. Mine is, of course, a wolf, but it can be anything-- something that represents you at your core, what you truly are. James is a stag, something noble and wise, and Peter is a rat, small and furtive and clever-- and Sirius is a dog, loyal and brave and, at his core, loving. He wants to make everyone laugh, and be happy, and in that quest he doesn't think. But anyway-- there's a spell in our world that lets us become that animal at will. It's incredibly difficult, and if it goes wrong, it goes quite badly; there are hundreds who end up in the hospital every year because they do it wrong.

But when they found out what I was . . . they spent the next two years working on that spell, desperate to make it. Animals are safe from werewolves, you see; the wolf doesn't care about animal flesh. Only human.

[He smiles sadly.]

They transform with me every month without fail, and keep me in check. The pain is marginally less, and Moony is so much calmer with them.

And Sirius-- he's the one who sticks by me most, who endures the most injuries when Moony gets upset; he's the one who finds me clothes at dawn and carries me back to the school.

[majestyofthethrone]

[A tremendous part of her cries out at that. At the idea of pain so bad that it exhausts you, of a transformation so terrible it does all those things to you. It's something so private, so personal, and now Seraphim knows, now she knows, and she's kept so much of herself locked away.

And then things click together.]

He was your dog. The one I met. That's why you got upset when he put his head up my skirt.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[OH SHIT he forgot about that. Remus stares at the floor quite pointedly, his ears gone red.]

Ye-es. Sorry.

[majestyofthethrone]

[She tweaks his ear - she's not angry, she doesn't mind, but it's a piece of information to file away.]

It must have been nice, to find someone who was loyal like that. Who never abandoned you.

[theshabbiestofmen]

I-- yes. Are you really not angry about that?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She shakes her head.]

I have secrets, too. Although really he probably should have just asked.

Although I would have said no.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Ye-es, probably a good idea. But yes, he is quite loyal, and kind, and all that rot.

[He wrinkles his nose.]

He's not going to be too happy you know about Padfoot, though. It's sort of a secret. I mean, we don't tell anyone at home, because it's illegal, but-- I don't know. He tells some people here.

[majestyofthethrone]

[She shrugs]

I'm not happy he was involved in that shooting. We can all be upset at each other.

[And then a moment, because he told her secrets, and he was open, so maybe-]

Don't you ever wonder why I can't speak?

[theshabbiestofmen]

I have, at times.

[He tilts his head.]

But I hadn't wanted to pry.

[majestyofthethrone]

[She looks a little - concerned, for a moment, but eventually writes something out]

Do you know who the Metatron is?

[theshabbiestofmen]

The voice of God. Right?

[majestyofthethrone]

Because God's voice can't be heard by people. Right?

[She takes a moment, and fidgets, and after he's read that, she erases it and writes out.]

My soul is the Throne of God. And when I turned fifteen, something happened, and God took residence inside my soul. So He sealed my voice.

[And a pause.]

I'm not crazy.

[theshabbiestofmen]

I didn't think you were.

[Nor does he think she's lying-- but it still takes him a few moments to digest. He glances down, frowning.]

What . . . what does that mean, exactly? Being a Throne of God, and-- and hosting God in you, all that. I don't know what that means.

[majestyofthethrone]

I don't really know either.

You see why I can't tell anyone? Because it doesn't make sense.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Yes, well. I'm a time-traveling wizard. I don't think much of our lives makes sense anymore.

So-- can you talk, but choose not to, or can you really not at all?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She's a little surprised he's taking it so well. Most people...don't. Except for people like Dean, people who know that there's things bigger than himself - although Dean doesn't seem to care about that.]

I can't even make noises that aren't vocalizations. Like sighs. Or sniffles. I can't even play the flute anymore.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Goodness.

[He says that quietly, still staring at the floor. And then, again:]

Goodness.

[A beat.]

Have you-- er-- met God, then?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She nods, tightly. Technically, so has Sirius, although he didn't know it at the time and still doesn't know.]

[theshabbiestofmen]

What's . . . it . . . like?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She expresses everything through music, and math, and perfect numbers and whole notes, so it takes her a moment to translate that sensation in her head.]

It's like hearing music but feeling love. You can feel the whole of creation and how it slots together perfectly, and...I don't know. It's hard to describe. I've been trying to recreate the sensation for two years now.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He nods again, and doesn't say anything for a long minute. Finally, he huffs a sigh and pushes a hand through his hair.]

I'm sorry. I'm not . . . I believe you, I truly do, it's just-- difficult for me. I've a hard enough time with my own existence, let alone with a higher being. To have stark proof that one exists, even in just one world-- it's difficult.

[majestyofthethrone]

[She smiles a little, but it's wobbly, because she's always afraid people will push her away when they know, and she reaches for his hand.]

Things suck. Things suck for me and God is in my soul so yes, I understand. Just because He's there - it doesn't fix anything.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Mm.

[He smiles as she takes his hand-- a tired smile, very much strained.]

Is it-- I mean-- could it simply be a powerful entity? Or not, not God as we think of him? It?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She shakes her head]

When you meet Him, you know.

[theshabbiestofmen]

When?