WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS SECNES OF SEVERE ABUSE. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT KIND OF STUFF, PLEASE LEAVE NOW.

A/N: I came up with this idea, then desperately had to write it. Review, flame, whatever. Rating is for the severe abuse ONLY; this is NOT slash, just really strong friendship. This is set in the MWPP era, in the summer between 5th and 6th year. Remus is 15 and Sirius is 16.

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--Remus's POV--

It was a lazy summer night, warm and drowsy. Me and Sirius were sitting on the thick carpet by the fireplace, roasting nuts and eating them. My mother was sitting in a nearby armchair, knitting. I guess I ought to explain why Sirius was over at my house instead of Black mansion. You see, his mother had just disowned him for "associating with mudbloods and werewolves." He'd be pretty distraught at the fact that she wasn't allowing him to come home for the summer. He would've gone to James's house, but James was on holiday with his parents for the entire summer. And so, there he was, sitting with me on the floor of my house, roasting nuts and swapping stories.

A screech at the window jerked me from my thoughts. Mum opened the window, allowing two owls in. The first, a pretty tawny named Angel, was mine. She had a letter from James. The other, a pitch-black barn owl, belonged to Mrs. Black. It'd been bringing Sirius hate mail every day he had been at my house. Rather rude, if you ask me.

Sirius scowled at the black owl. Upon taking its letter, he ripped it to shreds and tossed it in the fire, not even bothering to read it. He shooed the owl away without feeding it. I heard him mutter something under his breath that sounded like, "Damn woman."

I reached for the tawny, stroking her on the head. I took her letter and gave her a piece of nut, murmuring how good she was. She nipped at my fingers in thanks and flew off to my room. Opening the letter, I scanned it. James was off someplace, on a tropical island of some sort. Sirius, who was reading over my shoulder, grinned and said, "Well, looks like Jamie's having fun." There was a picture that fell out of the envelope of James, his parents, and, of all people, Lilly Evans and her family. Watching James and Lilly in the picture, I too grinned. "Oh yes, I'd say he's having a LOT of fun." We both started giggling.

A booming knock at the door interrupted our fun. "Woman! Open this door!"

I instantly knew who it was. I leaped to my feet, shoved the letter and the nuts at Sirius, and said, "Go upstairs to the bedroom, and STAY THERE until I come up. Don't make a sound, Sirius. He can't know you're here, or else it'll mean more trouble for me." I gave him a stern glare.

"But Remus... He hurts you so much." Sirius's voice was a barely audible whisper, his tone was the special one he used only with me. His eyes were wide and troubled, a pool of brown.

"I know Siri, I know, but you can't save me. All that'll happen is YOU'LL get hurt too. You can't stay. I'm sorry." Sirius grabbed me into a quick, tight hug, then ran up the stairs.

"WOMAN! ARE YOU DEAF?! I said open this goddamned door NOW!"

My mother ran to the door. "Yes John, I'm coming."

The door opened, and in walked my father, horribly drunk. Typical, I thought. "Finally, you open the door. What does a man have to do to get respect around here?!"

Mum stuttered a bit, trying to come up with an answer. Dad backhanded her across the face. "Worthless slime," he muttered. And then he spotted me. "And you," he growled. I gulped.

"Hey Dad," I said, trying to smile.

"Dad?! You dare to call me dad, you worthless freak?!" He crossed the room in five long strides. I backpedaled just a bit; if he'd seen me running that'd be the end of it, right then and there. He lowered his voice menacingly. "You're nothing but a werewolf, and a coward one at that. If you ever even THINK that I'm your father, you're wrong. Very, very wrong."

Father raised his hand, as though to smack me. When I flinched, he let his hand down and cackled an evil laugh. "Oh you pathetic weakling, where did I go wrong in raising you?" he asked, almost to himself.

"I... I d-don't know," I stuttered, trying to keep my cool. Whenever he was around, I started stuttering uncontrollably. I hated it, and so did he.

"You know you shouldn't be stuttering like that... Let me see if I can... FIX your problem." With that, my father punched me in the jaw. He was more drunk than usual, and pissed as hell about who-knows-what. I quickly saw that he meant to take it out on me. Over and over in my mind, I played a phrase like a broken record: Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry...

He punched me in the stomach several times, till I was down on the ground. Mum just stood there, watching the entire thing from the kitchen door. She knew better than to get in the middle of Dad beating me up, and besides, it wasn't like when I was little. If I needed saving, I'd damned well do it myself. Mum didn't have to save me. Mum COULDN'T save me, and we both knew it.

Dad now got out his belt. He rolled me on my stomach, tearing my shirt off, and beat me until I didn't even think I HAD a back anymore. But I stayed true to my expectations of myself: I didn't cry out. Tears rolled silently down my face, but Dad didn't see them. He didn't know that I was weak. Good.

He moved into the kitchen. I thought he was finished with me, but he yelled, "Stay right there boy," and I knew there was worse to come. Re- entering the living room, he held in his hand a bottle of lemon juice. I cringed, both inwardly and outwardly. He hadn't been this brutal before. Ever. I tensed my muscles, trying to brace myself for what was to come.

But of course, no one could brace themselves for that. It was fire, pure fire, spreading all over my open wounds. Despite my steely self-resolve, I cried out. I screamed. It hurt so bad, so much pain. I was so close to blacking out. If I blacked out, then there wouldn't be anymore pain. But I knew what would happen if I blacked out, it'd be worse than if I stayed conscious. I screamed and screamed, and my father yelled long strings of curses that could be heard over my screams.

Finally he backed away. I quivered, breathing a sigh of relief. "Oh, I'm not done with you just yet," he growled. He went back a few paces, turned, and took out his wand. "Crucio!" The curse rang throughout the whole house. If I had thought it was bad earlier, that was NOTHING compared to this. I writhed on the floor, screaming and crying. I think I was crying for Sirius, but I can't really remember. The pain was too blinding.

Finally, he put his wand away. Spitting on me, he said, "Get up. Go to your room. I don't want to see you again while I'm here, bastard child."

Grabbing my t-shirt and pulling it slowly on, I crawled up the stairs as fast as I could muster myself.

--Sirius's POV--

When he told me to go, I went. But not willingly. Remus Lupin is my best friend in the entire world, and I couldn't stand it when his father abused him. I'd been there before when it had happened, and John Lupin always used the same schedule: Beat Moony, rape Mrs. Lupin, eat their food, pass out on their couch, wake up, beat Mrs. Lupin a little, and leave. Sometimes he'd spend months away from home. Each time he came back, it would be a little worse. But, sitting there on my best friend's bed, listening, I knew without a doubt that this was the worst ever.

The shouts and screams made me grimace. I prayed so hard to let me take his place, but I couldn't. Silent tears rolled down my face as I was forced to listen to Remus's torture. When I heard Mr. Lupin use the Crutacious Curse, I was taken aback. That was an Unforgivable Curse! What father would ever dark magic on his own son? I made a mental note to ask Remus later whether or not his dad was a death eater. When Remus started crying out for me, it took everything I had not to run down there, kill his father, and let it be over. I heard the son of a bitch dismiss Remus. Now was the time that I had to have my wits about me. I dried my eyes and got ready to help my friend.

The door was nudged open. Remus crawled in, too weak to even stand. I gasped, my eyes filled with tears. There was blood EVERYWHERE. He was sobbing, and gasping for breath. He looked up at me with large, mournful eyes. "S... S-Sirius..."

I ran over and caught him right before he collapsed. Lifting him and carrying him to the soft bed was hardly an effort. He weighed so little, it was scary. I started to quietly sneak to the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean him up with, but he put his hand out. "Siri... stay," was his quiet whimper. I sighed and sat down next to him. He immediately curled into my chest. I stretched out on the bed, pulling my best friend close. He cried, whimpering. I laid there with him, just stroking his hair, which was matted together with blood and sweat. "Shhh, sh-sh-sh-sh- sh, shhhh... It's ok Remmy, it's ok, I got you, I got you, shhh..." And still he cried.

After the longest while, he began to relax.

"Moony?" "Hmm..." "You wanna let me clean you up now?" "M'kay..." "Lemme go, just real quick, ok? I gotta go get stuff... we need to clean those cuts of yours, man." "Watch... watch yourself. He's... he's really... really bad tonight." "I will."

And with that, I snuck out of the bedroom. Lucky for me, I'd been in this house enough times to know where the floor creaked and where it didn't. I also knew where everything in the small bathroom right down the hall was kept. I came back with a few towels, a bowl of clean water, and a bottle of multi-purpose heal-all that was in the cupboard. I could still hear Mr. Lupin downstairs, cursing under his breath at Mrs. Lupin. Monster, I thought.

Quietly padding back into Remus's room, I saw that he hadn't moved since I'd left. I sat on the bed next to him and stroked his face. "Remus?"

"Sirius?" "Well I'm glad you're a bit more... coherent," I said, half-smiling. "Of course. I think I'm fine now." I raised an eyebrow at him. He sat up. "Ok, maybe not FINE, but better, how's that, hmm Padfoot?" I smiled. "Much better, Mr. Moony, much better indeed."

I held up the towels and the bottle of healing potion. "You ready?" I asked him. His mouth quirked around into a frown and he lifted an eyebrow. We both knew he wasn't, but we also both knew that he HAD to be healed, at least a bit. Otherwise, he'd get sick. Finally, setting his jaw grimly, he nodded. "Back first," I said. He started to pull off his blood-stained t-shirt, but couldn't. I helped him, inwardly appalled that he was so weak. "Ok, let's see." With his apprehensive look, I added with a wink, "I'll be gentle."

He rolled over onto his stomach, showing me the gashes and cuts. I gasped. "Oh Remus..."

He snorted a bit. "Yeah, you think it hurts to see it, think about..." He trailed off. I looked at him hard.

"Remus Lupin, you know I would give anything to take your pain right now," I said, fully serious.

"I know," came his weak answer, "I know."

I set to work. As I'd promised, I made every effort to be a gentle as I possibly could. When most people think Sirius Black, the last thing that comes to their mind is gentle and loving. But there's a side of me that I don't allow many to see, a side that's gentle and emotional and caring. Remus knew it was there, as did James, but I doubt that many other people would have even suspected that I was capable of it. That, of course, is why that hidden side of me is almost the strongest thing in my personality: Few know about it, but the few who do, nurture it.

Over an hour later, all of my best friend's wounds were clean and bandaged. I had a sleeping bag that I was to kip in, but Remus didn't want me to. I stayed with him, and held him until he fell asleep. It took a pretty long while for either one of us to sleep, and once we did get to sleep, we kept waking each other up with our nightmares. But we'd calm each other down, and finally fall back asleep.

And that, I suppose, is what best friends are there for. To love each other forever.