A.N: I don't own HP, as much as I wish I did.
He was there. He was there with him and if he tilted his head up just the way he used to when they kissed he could almost feel a shadow of lips pressed on his own, like a feather on a bird sweeping over the currents of air or a crumbling leaf sweeping along the concrete. Almost.
He was there. His presence was curiously lingering in the darkness and when he woke up after a fitful dream drenched in sweat and cold and trembling he could feel a comforting pair of arms wrapped around his waist, holding him close until he drifted off.
He was there. When he went down the stairs in the morning and made himself a bit of toast and a spot of tea after scouring his cupboards for any leftover crumbs of food, he could hear the whisper, carrying in the wind, telling him he looked too shabby and his clothes were threadbare and he needed to eat more or else he'd waste away.
Dreams of hallways, cold, black, dark, shimmering in the flickers of candlelight haunted him. He could hear the screaming, feel the darkness closing in around him taking his heart and spitting it back out, torn in two. He could see the archway, a flicker of silver filling it as he wandered in circles, round and round. He could reach out and touch it, silky, but rough, cool, but warm, empty, but full. He could hear the voices, just beyond. Just inside. He could hear his friends.
He took a step.
Then another.
He reached out, both hands parting a veil that wasn't there.
He closed his eyes, nodded to the darkness, and let himself be pulled inside by a pair of worn hands.
He let himself be embraced by his lover, by his brother, and by his friend.
He let himself feel the lips on his and the arms around his waist, hear the voice in his ear, see what he tried not to.
He let them welcome him home.
He never woke up.
A.N: That was Sirius/Remus (or WolfStar if you sail ships.) In my imagination, it's canon. Yes, I killed Remus. I'm sorry he had to die too. Read and Review! XD