A/N: For the Houses Competition. This is a Muggle AU in which James and Lily still died but Sirius was never sent down for their murder.

House: Ravenclaw

Category: Themed

Prompt: 'The flowers died three weeks ago'

Word count: 2234

WARNING for explicit language throughout

The flowers died three weeks ago. So did James. So did Lily.

Sirius Black was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a flowers kind of guy. No one would expect to walk into his shitty flat, with its dark walls and heavy curtains, and find vases of flowers decorating every available surface, unlike some people he'd had the pleasure of meeting. But James and Lily had just died, and people kept pressing flowers into his hands with muttered condolences, like that would make anything better. Like they meant anything.

(Sirius had wanted to scream at them, to throw their stupid fucking flowers back in their faces, to spit on their I'm sorrys because James and Lily were dead - his best friends were dead - and none of them had a fucking clue what he was going through.)

(Instead, he thanked them as politely as he was able and slammed the door in their faces, only then allowing himself to rage and scream and smash anything in reach because it was all so damn unfair.)

Sometimes he wondered if he should yell and swear and throw shit at them. Maybe then they would stop bringing those damn flowers.

Most of the flowers ended up being angrily shoved in the bin. Sirius hated their sickly sweet stench and their overly bright colours; the tags containing empty words of condolence, and the way that everyone pretended everything was okay because he had flowers. It was bullshit. Most of all, though, Sirius hated the fake empathy in people's eyes when they were handed over. Like they understood. Like they knew.

The worst, though, were the lilies.

They arrived only a few hours (it seemed like a lifetime) after the incident at Godric's Hollow - that was what everyone had begun to call it, the 'incident'. Sirius thought it was stupid; the 'massacre' might have been more appropriate. He'd still been in a daze of shock and grief, unable to bring himself to trash them like the rest. He didn't remember who it was that had given them to him. The sad smiles and understanding eyes that everybody seemed to wear were all the same to him by then. Maybe it had been Marlene - she always was the type that put some thought into their gifts.

Sirius had gone through his usual motions of thanking whoever it was through gritted teeth, not really registering what he was holding. He was about to throw them away when he caught a glimpse of the pure white petals, which permeated the fog in his brain and abruptly brought him crashing back to reality. His hand shook as it hovered in the air and he felt his breath begin to come shorter and shorter and shorter. His vision blurred and he slumped against the wall, sliding slowly down it to the floor.

He had stared stupidly at the lilies for a long time, running his thumb gently over the soft petals, memorising every detail. They were perfect, blooming beautifully, young and fresh and unmarred - exactly the way Lily herself had been before that bastard had forced his way into her home and murdered her. In that moment, Sirius realised that he had to make sure these flowers stayed beautiful, stayed alive, for Lily, for James, for himself.

It worked, for a while. He ensured that he remembered to change the water, he kept them on a window ledge near the sun, he even bought some of that fancy flower food to keep them going. But Sirius had forgotten that nothing can live forever, and soon the lilies began to wilt and die.

When he'd first walked down the stairs and saw the perfectly white tips of the petals slowly turning brown and curling in on themselves, he'd marched straight to the alcohol cupboard and pulled out the first bottle he saw. Fuck the fact that it was 9am. Fuck it all. James and Lily were dead, so if he wanted to get drunk at nine in the morning, then that was exactly what he was going to do.

When he'd finally awoken from his alcohol-induced stupor, he'd gone to throw the lilies away. Well. He'd tried, anyway. But his feet had refused to let him anywhere near the flowers and maybe it was just the booze, but his heart had ached at the prospect of just throwing them away like all the others. Rationally, he knew that they'd have to go at some point, but his rational side had always sounded too much like Remus for his liking. Besides, since when did he do anything Remus told him, ever? So. The flowers had stayed.

Three weeks after the flowers died (after James and Lily died), Sirius was no closer to getting rid of them. They were all shrivelled and bent over, the stalks in danger of snapping at any moment, but his arms shook every time he reached for them and he couldn't bring himself to touch them, to throw them away. He just couldn't.

But what he could do was drink, and maybe then he'd be able to forget about it all, albeit for a mere few hours.

He woke the next morning to a raging headache, a nauseous feeling in his stomach, and someone pounding far too loudly on the front door.

"Sirius!" an all too familiar voice yelled. "I know you're in there, so either you can come answer the door now or I'm breaking it down!"

Sirius groaned and buried his face back in his pillow, before forcing himself upright in case Remus was going to make good on his threat. He held a hand to his head, waiting until the world had stopped spinning before making his way to the door, leaning heavily on the wall as he did so. He opened the door to an obviously irritated Remus, although his expression morphed into concern as he took in Sirius's unkempt appearance.

"You look like crap," he commented lightly, although the heaviness of his voice betrayed the worry he so clearly felt.

"Your face looks like crap," Sirius mumbled, not feeling up to witty comebacks just yet. It wasn't like it was exactly wrong, either; Remus had dark bags under his eyes and he looked like he had aged a decade in the weeks since Sirius had last seen him.

"Come in, I guess," he said, moving aside so that Remus could enter. He cursed under his breath as he realised what state he'd left everything in when he'd passed out last night.

An uncomfortable silence hung between them for a few moments whilst Remus began to clear away the many bottles that were scattered around the room. Sirius stood awkwardly beside him, then elected to flop down on the sofa. His head had been spinning too much to stay upright any longer.

"So," he said into the silence. "Why did you decide to drop 'round? I'm guessing it wasn't a spontaneous thing."

"You called me last night," Remus said. "Repeatedly." He dug his phone out of his pocket and tossed it to Sirius. He fumbled with it for a second, grimacing when he finally managed to unlock it.

17 missed calls.

17 new voicemails.

"Okay, so I got a little drunk-" Sirius began, flushing hotly when Remus cut him off.

"Open them," he said shortly.

Sirius laughed nervously. "Really? I mean, I was pretty out of it, I probably said some messed up shit."

"Open them," Remus insisted, his voice hard, giving Sirius no other option but to obey.

"Heyyyy Moony," the first one slurred, and Sirius winced at how loud his voice was. "Jus' wanted to tell you tha' I wish you were here jus'- jus' 'cuz. Be nice to talk to you."

"Mmmooooonnnyyyyy." The second 'Sirius' dragged out Remus's nickname, pausing for a long time after. "Tha's a funny name. James gave it to you, 'member? And I'm Padfoot, Peter's Wormtail, and he was Prongs. D'you 'member, Moony?"

A silence passed, and Sirius thought the message had ended, but then an almost childlike voice spoke, "I miss him."

The third message was a full minute of crying.

The fourth had barely begun before Remus plucked the phone out of Sirius's hand and clicked it off. Sirius blinked up at him in surprise, frowning at Remus's sad, sympathetic expression. He'd had enough of that from everyone else - he didn't need Remus joining in on the pity parade, too. He told him as much, to which Remus sighed and moved to sit next to him on the sofa.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Remus asked hesitantly.

"Not particularly," Sirius replied, resolutely not meeting his friend's eyes.

Remus sighed again, more in exasperation this time than before, and turned to face Sirius fully. "Are you sure?" he challenged. "Because it didn't sound that way last night."

"Yeah, but I was off my ass on drink last night," Sirius shot back. "Anyway, what's there to say? James and Lily are dead, Harry's an orphan, and all I have are these stupid fucking flowers!" He was almost yelling by this point, his chest suddenly tight with rage and emotion. He heard Remus's sharp intake of breath after he'd finished, but he refrained from looking over, instead pushing the heel of his hands into his eyes in an attempt to banish the tears that were threatening to spill over. Sirius Black did not cry.

"Sirius, I underst-"

"What, Remus?" Sirius demanded, finally meeting Remus's eyes. He felt a slight twinge of guilt at the hurt he saw in them, but that was soon quashed by his rising anger. "Tell me, what do you understand?"

Remus swallowed, suddenly looking smaller than he'd ever done before, smaller, even, than he had on their first day at school all those years ago.

"They were my friends too, Sirius," he said quietly, and Sirius could have kicked himself because of course he wasn't the only one who was hurting, and if anyone could understand, it would be Remus.

"Hey," Sirius started, nervous all of a sudden. "Hey, er, Moony, I'm sorry. I just-" He stopped for a second and closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "I just miss them so much and- and I know that doesn't give me an excuse to act like a dick, but I- I - ." Words failed him, but Remus understood anyway.

Remus nodded slowly and twisted his hands in his lap. "Me too. I haven't really spoken to anyone about it either, because I thought that if I didn't talk about it, then it wouldn't be real. But I suppose I have to face the facts at some point." He looked up at Sirius then, and gave him a sad smile. "We both do."

Sirius started a little, but nodded back, realising that Remus was right. If anyone else had said that, he would have told them to fuck off and forced them out of the house, but Remus was different. They'd grown up together, him and James and Remus, so they all knew each other like they knew the backs of their hands. For the longest time, he'd thought that James was the only one who'd ever, truly, understand Sirius Black for who he really was. Now he knew that he was so wrong. In that instant, as they looked at one another, a moment of clarity passed between them. Sirius would be there for Remus, just as Remus would be there for Sirius, and they'd help each other dig themselves out of their grief. It was how James would have wanted it.

"Okay," Sirius said shakily. "Okay," he repeated, his voice stronger this time.

Remus simply smiled at him again, warmth and compassion and understanding all mixed into one, and, for the first time in three weeks, Sirius felt like there was a way out. That there could be a life without James. He pushed himself off the sofa and made his way to the mantlepiece, where the dead flowers stood. He grabbed the vase, his hands miraculously steady, and turned back to Remus.

"Got to start somewhere, right?"

Later, when the lilies had been disposed of, the pair of them sat in Sirius's living room, reminiscing over memories of simpler times. Sirius asked at one point about Harry - he knew that Remus was trying to get custody over him. Apparently, the kid's idiot social worker, some guy named Dumbledore, was insisting that Harry go to his last living relatives. Sirius had never met them, but Lily had told him enough for him to know that the last thing Harry needed was a home there. It would be hell for the boy. He tried to reassure Remus that he'd get there in the end, which Remus had seemed doubtful about, but Sirius knew that he would be the best person to take care of Harry, and he hoped this Dumbledore would see it, too.

James and Lily had died three weeks ago, and a part of Sirius had died with them. But when he was with Remus, he could feel a spark of life that he'd thought would never ignite again begin to grow. It would take a long time for him to heal, and Sirius knew that Remus recognised that. It was a good feeling, to have someone who understood him, one that Sirius had never appreciated before. He hoped that it would last.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed that! Please leave a review if you have a moment. Bye!