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[The camera clicks on to a low-lit room. It's difficult to see anything, but there's something moving in the darkness--

--a face. A wolf's face turned to the side, its jaws bloody and eye narrowed, teeth stretched into sharp, curved fangs. It stares at the camera for a few seconds, sizing it up, before turning. But the other half of the face isn't a wolf; rather, it's a mangled, gory mess. A young face appears on the screen, meshed horribly with the wolf on the other side-- and it's Remus' face, but one could only tell that if one knew him well, as his face is horribly torn up. Torn skin and exposed muscles make up the majority of his face, while blood pours from scratches on his forehead. His teeth are exposed through a hole in his cheek, but that's barely visible, as dripping yellow fat mixing with crimson blood are constantly slipping down his cheek. It's a horrible sight, made all the worse by Remus' sudden low laugh.

--because it's the mask, of course, and he proves that by removing it after a few seconds.]

Enjoy the show?

[There's a noticeable edge in his voice and smile, something colder and crueler than before.]

I think I quite like this new development. It's certainly far more interesting than simply another Jump, don't you agree? And far less deadly-- which reminds me, there's new people here, aren't there? I do hope that's not your first inkling that things on here aren't quite so lovely as they seem; that would be a rather poor welcome.

[He glances down, considering the mask for a few more seconds, before glancing at the camera again.]

You know, I'm always surprised at how kind everyone is here. Aren't you? How welcoming they are to the supernatural creatures. The vampires and the werewolves, the poor castaway souls that have found sanctuary here-- but you know, I don't know if that's so wise. It works out for me, of course, but don't you ever wonder what might happen if one of us snapped?

[He grins fiercely.]

Think about it. Once a month, all that separates me from a potential meal-- that is to say, you (and please don't say that you could defend yourself from me, because I can promise you, you couldn't, not from me when I'm on the hunt)-- is a simple door and a dog. Just a few inches of steel, and I'm sure soon enough the werewolf will figure out how to get out of that.

As for the vampires-- well. I don't think it would be very hard for a vampire to snap, would it? At least with me, you only have to worry once a month. A terrifying once a month, to be certain, and I could most definitely hurt you if I was so inclined now-- but in the end, I have control over myself twenty-eight days of the month. A vampire, now-- well. He could snap at any moment. His cravings are a constant hunger. Imagine, if you would, starving. Having hunger claw at your stomach, making you dizzy, making you delirious-- and then being presented a delicious meal and being told you weren't allowed to have any. Imagine having to deal with that at every hour, every minute, every second of every day--

Really, it's a wonder the poor things haven't snapped by now, isn't it?

[He slips his hand up, his finger playing carelessly at his dogtooth.]

Of course, being a creature of darkness also has its benefits. Strength, hearing, sight, smell-- they all get better. You become something better than a human, something bigger and cleverer and far more interesting. I have to say, I'm a bit surprised no one has asked for the bite yet.

But then perhaps you're all frightened.

[He shrugs and glances down at the mask again. After a moment he slips it back on and turns so the wolf side is facing the Network.]

I suppose you should be.

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Don't---

[Without thinking he reaches forward, grabbing Sirius' shoulder.]

Not-- not rid of them. Please. Not entirely.

[He pulls away, with perhaps a bit more savagery than is necessary.]

Yeah, well, I'm going to. We have to. I don't know if they're-- I don't know. But they can't be kept.

Not kept, but not destroyed-- don't tell me you want to, not really. Hide them if you want, but don't destroy them!

[Don't destroy them, and something in Sirius echoes that, agrees with that, and his hand tightens on the masks, and he feels that awful tightness in his chest again, as if something is going to tear out of him--]

No. [He growls it out--irritated with himself for being so fucking weak, so stupid--your father's son--] But we have to think of them like they're destroyed, like they're-- like they're gone.

Then we'll hide them. Give me yours, we'll do it for each other. So we don't know where ours is.

[No. His fingers curl into the mask, gripping at it-- and then he thrusts his mask out at Remus, shoving it toward him, his face hard.]

Here, quick--

[He walks away backwards, his eyes trained on his own mask-- and god, but it takes everything he has to keep going, to not race back toward Sirius and yank it out of his hand, to race away and hide and be safe--

--but it helps to look at Sirius' mask. The sneering countenance helps him remember why they're doing this, and Remus exhales hard as he turns the corner. It's both easier and harder then-- easier to focus on his task, but god, that weight in his chest grows heavier and heavier.

He returns half an hour later, having shoved it in an empty bedroom. Curling on the bed, he stares at nothing, feeling sick and relieved all at once.]

[As soon as Remus has hold of his mask, he feels an almost compulsive urge to snatch it back again--so much so that his hand opens, and then closes again, fingers tight in a fist--

And then he's off, running, it's like being back at Hogwarts again--not his father's sneering face behind him, but any other's, as good as his father's, all these purebloods expecting of him what he'll never give, what he'll never understand, a Black in name only, not a part of the rest of their shit, not for the world--it's like being chased by that, dogged at the heels, and he's always going to wear that, even here, where no one knows.

Having Remus' mask to get rid of is a help, something to focus on that isn't his own. Sirius is best at thinking of his friends and ignoring himself in every way he bloody well can; this is no different. So when he's gotten rid of it as best as he can--a cupboard in one of the unused kitchens, with as many lock spells as he can work, all complicated, all tricky--he returns as well, dragging his feet, a weariness that he doesn't understand biting at him.

Remus is already there when he arrives, but Sirius slips in and sinks onto the floor.]

So that's it.

Yeah.

[He stares at Sirius, his eyes slightly unfocused-- ask him where it is, he thinks, and swallows that impulse with no small amount of difficulty.]

I-- I suppose it'll be like any other addition. The first few days are the hardest.

[He barks a hollow laugh, his fingers curled into tight fists.]

Dealt with a great many addictions in the past, have we?

[It's not a jab directed at him, he knows, but still Remus sighs and closes his eyes.]

I've read about them often enough to recognize the symptoms in myself.

[He nods, once, shortly, still staring at his fists. There's a brief silence--and then he has to ask--]

You didn't-- destroy it. Did you? Just locked it up.

Simply hid it. And you?

[There's an urgency in his voice that he's already ashamed of, but still Remus doesn't take the question back.

[He thinks a moment of saying he destroyed it. If he says he destroyed it, Remus won't look for it--and he will want to look for it; Sirius wants to look for his, even now, even as he tries to fix the thought in his mind that it's not a thing to be messed with.

He rubs a hand over his face, with a sigh.]

Hid it. Wouldn't matter if we destroyed 'em anyways, I've heard.

Why?

[He sits up a little, his eyebrows raised.]

Is it indestructible? Or does it simply regenerate?

I dunno what they're saying technically about it. It's just--they'll end up back on your door where they started, even if you fucking dissolve it in acid.

[He shrugs, not really interested in that part of the masks.]

[He exhales hard and rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.]

So this is permanent, then. Fantastic.

[His eyes narrow at that thought, and he looks around at Remus, sharply.]

The masks are permanent. But we can-- we'll just leave them where they are.

Mm.

[He rubs his face tiredly and sighs.]

Come on. Let's-- god. I don't know. Play cards or something-- anything to take our minds off this.

[He glances over at Remus, a bit incredulously--and he actually manages a little laugh at that. Classic Remus, that.]

Cards?

Do you have a better idea?

Just surprised you didn't suggest reading aloud to me, that's all.

I'm a bit too tired for that, I'm afraid.

[There's a beat, and then Sirius smiles, mirthlessly.]

Pity. I was looking forward to that. Oh, well, s'ppose that means I have to read to you.

[The sentence is odd enough that he sits up on his elbows, frowning a little.]

What on earth are you going to read to me?

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