Just a small piece of a story I lost the motivation to write, so I guess this is considered an AU.
The man was looking up at the starry sky, an unreadable expression gracing his tired face. His robes, tattered and ripped, swayed in the cold winds of the evening, calmness contradicting the fluctuating feelings within Sirius. Night's crescent moon was shining its light upon Peter, short brownish-blond hair brightening to a healthy tone. His unusual tranquility erased any rat-like characteristics he had retained from being Scabbers.
Sirius allowed himself a short happy memory of young Peter. A boy who had been too shy for his own good. With some hesitance, Sirius admitted that he and James did not help much to change the fact. It hurt to acknowledge Peter's absent self-confidence as being their fault, but it was harsh truth. They always called him hurtful names, and although the saying sounded flawed, words really did hurt more than actions.
Peter could not be a bad guy, but nor could he be a good guy either; just as Sirius was unable to be innocent for everything in his own life. It went against all that he had been taught. There is no dark or light. Only grey, whether it is of a light shade or a darker shade. Humans carry out good acts and bad acts constantly. Nobody could only do one of the two for their whole lives. It was impossible.
"I've never looked at the sky with so much thought before. It is strange." Peter had startled Sirius. The speech pattern was so different; no stutter, slurs, or pauses. Merely a set of words connected in a sad, clear quality. It pulled Sirius' heart strings despite this Peter being the one out of Hogwarts. However, truthfully, could there ever really be two versions of the same person?
No, but Sirius wished it was so.
A deep breath and he responded. "You tend to ignore your surroundings until it is all that you have left." Sirius reached back for his wand, "Why are you here, Wormtail?"
The younger man frowned pensively for a moment. He finally turned his body toward Sirius, eyes having yet to look away from the sky. "My chest has been hurting for many years now; such an extensive time that… I barely notice it anymore. And it made me wonder… why am I still here? Why am I not dead yet? …I actually realized it only recently. I have been dead all this time. No living person could continue the wrongs that I have committed without asking themselves at least once, why am I doing this to everyone?"
So suddenly, fast enough to miss if Sirius had not been looking, a tear rolled down Peter's cheek. Hollow eyes left the sky to Sirius' alarmed expression. "I apologize, Padfoot. …I truly wish I had never met you before. Prongs and Moony as well. I never deserved anyone's friendship, especially the Marauders. You were all so happy together. I was jealous… and hurt… and very lonely. Even next to you three, I was not really there."
The words stung, and even the thought of Peter being a traitor could not ignite his usual ire. The man's familiar haunted orbs caused Sirius to reach out a hand. With his limb extended, flashes of their life together seemed to flash by them both in a millisecond. Before he could comprehend it, Peter's hand was in his, and both of them were crying. They stared at each other, mirroring the same feelings of regret, though for different reasons. That fact, however, did not matter. Sirius wanted to say something, anything.
Unexpectedly, Peter weakly smiled and fell into Sirius' arms, eyes glazing over. Sirius collapsed with the added weight, stunned. Odd warmth covered his chest and arms; when he lifted a hand, it was stained red.
"Wormtail? Peter!" The man lifted his head to peer at Sirius. Now close up, he could see Peter's pale skin, slight tremble, and color-fading orbs. "Wh-What happened?"
More tears slipped down Peter's cheeks, "I'm sorry. I know… it's an easy way out."
Sirius shook, "You did this to yourself." It was a statement of shocked disbelief. The ache in his chest seemed to escalate as he watched his old friend smile and raise a weakening hand to Sirius' face.
When it cupped his cheek, Peter sighed. Sirius' shortened black hair fluttered in the night wind. "Your hair… is like… seeing a first year picture… of us at… Hogwarts. Barty does you well… Paddy. Don't lose him." He shuddered a breath, "Have the happiness I… never got to feel. Happiness Prongs and Lily… never got to continue… to feel… because of me."
Sirius choked on a sob as he gripped the hand on his wet cheek. Although sudden, Sirius felt a need to tell Peter what no one else would ever say. "Wormtail… Peter… I forgive you. You're free."
The rat animagus grinned, a shell of his younger self, and two last tears slipped down and off his chin. "Thank you… Siri." His eyes slid shut, head falling against the shoulder of his friend. His heartbeat faded.
Sirius openly sobbed, silently cursing Voldemort. Everything bad in his life always went back to the bastard. He knew he was part of the blame, but without Voldemort, someday in the future, Peter would have been happy, along with Bartemius, his precious little brother Regulus, James, Lily, Remus, his godson, and himself.
No betrayal. No anger. No regret. No tears. No death.
Body altering into his grim form, Sirius howled to the sky.
He never noticed his lover from afar, who watched on solemnly.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. belongs to the author, Joanne Rowling – aka JK Rowling