It's dark. So, so dark. There is a sickening pull in his stomach and his throat constricts, making him want to throw up—that would be the Dementors. He shivers.
His head aches. Why is he even here? Why is he coming to see the person who has singlehandedly rid him of his former love and life he held so dear?
But deep down, Remus knows exactly why he's here.
Even though Sirius wrecked every aspect of his life—both of their lives—beyond repair, Remus knew that he'd never stop loving that idiotic man. It really wasn't of any use lying to himself anymore. In the past weeks he had done it enough for an entire lifetime. Maybe two. Maybe more.
He's dressed in a worn beige oversized jumper with the too-long sleeves and the streched-out neck and a pair of dark demin jeans all underneath a long dark traveling cloak that has definitely seen better days. He pulls it tighter around himself and ignores the long strands of dirty, unwashed hair falling into his face.
As he walks behind his ghastly escort he does his best to tune out the haunted cries, pleas and demented screams for help.
Remus takes another breath and tries to keep it steady and unwavering, moving forward, watching the tips of his beat-up trainers appear and disappear from the edge of his cloak.
They seem to press on for hours, passing hundreds upon thousands of cells, some of these inmates are laughing like the mad, others muttering to themselves, calling out, voices scared and naive and full of confusion. Remus risks a look up and immediately regrets it, snapping his gaze down to the concrete in desperate need of a wash.
Prisoners with long matted hair, wide, bloodshot eyes, hideously overgrown nails that scratched long fresh tracks of open flesh, blood gushing from some, welling up over the lip of broken skin on others. Over arms and faces, bare thighs and painfully thin stomachs. Some appeared crosshatched over other wounds-likely from the same cause-and re-opened causing more blood. Grasping onto long chunks of hair at the root against the scalp and pulling away furiously, a retch-inducing ripping sound following.
The smell made Remus's golden-brown eyes water and his sensetive nose twist and try to retreat into a recess on his face. His hand clenched tighly around his wand and he bowed his head lower, desperately wishing he hadn't come, wishing he had just hung himself from the ceiling fan in his and Sirius's apartment or drowned himself in the shallow bathtub water.
He'd wanted to move out but with no where else to go, he stayed, every turn, every piece of furniture a heart-crunching reminder of what once was. After pretending that everything was like was before, Sirius was on a misson and James and Lily were still under the protection of the fidelius charm and Peter was still writing to him but hadn't been able to find an owl, Remus had spent another two weeks sobbing and crying and hiding in the smallest spaces in the flat.
Eventually, after a night of tearing himself apart in the special room made to combat the wolf he woke up naked and bloody, with a set of new scars, and came to the realization that he couldn't live like this anymore.
He dragged himself out of the flat and applied to every job oppurtunity he could find, and for a couple of months he had a steady pattern of working himself over the brink of exhaustion and collecting as much money as he could before either being fired or quitting for the moon.
Seeking closure, he'd risked an apparition to Godric's Hollow to cry and put flowers on James and Lily's graves and then faced the daunting decision that had been fluttering around his head since he had opened the Prophet on the worst day of his life. Eventually, he'd decided to bite the bullet and just fucking do it.
And here he is.
The Dementor stops and Remus is beyond thankful he manages to stop before bumping into the form with threadbare fluttering fabric draped over it.
His heart gives a heavy, painful lurch as realization strikes him. He's here. He is here.
Remus looks up and peers through his dirty hair, unprepared for the sight before him even after all the other nameless demented forms.
He inhales, then exhales and moves closer to the bars that cage Sirius Black into a small disgusting cell. The man inside is sitting upon the stained, dirty floor in a filthy gray striped one-piece article of clothing, hair greasy and unkept-so, so much different than how it used to be-sunken eyes, tattooed fingers-when had that happened-resting upon knees that were drawn up against his chest.
Perfectly silent, he stayed there, showing no signs of realizing anyone was watching him from outside the bars.
I've come this far, Remus thinks and clears his throat slightly.
Sirius's gray eyes snap up to his and Remus can't get himself to look away even though he knows everything about this is wrong. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't have pity for this man. He desperately wants something to prove him and everyone else wrong even though he knows nothing will.
Remus shifts uncomfortably and flinches slightly as Sirius makes to get up and the barely-there light reflects off heavy silver shakles banded around the man's wrists and ankles, heavy chains connecting them to each other and the floor.
Once he's standing, Sirius speaks, his voice sounds the same but hoarse from dissuse or perhaps screaming. Maybe some of both, maybe that didn't make sense. Remus's head throbbed.
"Remus. . ." Remus looks down at his own hands and squeezes his eyes tightly shut to stop the tears from escaping. "Please, don't cry."
Remus begins to shake his head furiously as the moisture tracks down his cheeks and off his chin.
"You have to listen to me, I didn't do it Moony, I swear on my life and everything I cared about-still do care about-it was Peter, I-"
"Don't you dare blame this on him! Peter's dead and so is James and Lily because you fucking killed all of them and you'd have done the same to me if I'd been there!" Remus snaps his head up furiously, suddenly full of anger. The first time they see each other after what happened and this is what Sirius has to say? Blaming innocent Peter of all people.
Sirius visibly flinches at the mention of James's name and grips the bars, "Remus, please, please we made Peter the keeper because I was a little bitch and-"
"Yeah, you were a little bitch, and you still are. I don't know why I came here. I don't what I thought this would do for me. I should just leave and go kill myself-"
"No! Goddamnit Remus don't you dare-" Sirius's voice is anxious and frantic, and Remus shivers heavily at the familiarity of it.
"I'll do whatever the fuck I ruddy want to!" Remus snarls.
"Remus, I can deal with everyone in the world believing I did it but I can't deal with you believing it, please, please, please-" the sickly-looking man repeats the word over and over to his former lover.
"Goodbye, Sirius," Remus says, and he turns away from the man he loved and walked away from the repetitive mantra of 'please'.
He knew this was a mistake.