This Place Called Home
In school they were sweet secrets and stolen kisses in deserted hallways. They were stolen touches during dinner and endless nights behind the curtains of their four-poster beds. They told no one, but, of course, James knew and Lily threw them knowing smiles. And if someone noticed that Sirius, notorious heartbreaker, stopped seeing birds, and Remus, student extraordinaire, didn't call the library home anymore, they didn't care.
Those were their happy days, untouched by the darkness yet to come. They were just Sirius and Remus, friends and brothers and then something more. And the thoughts of their future didn't scare them, because they were young and in love and as long as they were together, nothing could ever harm them.
Then they stepped out into the world and they were openly shared hugs and hands held in public. They were laughter and freedom and not giving a damn, because the future was bright and the world lay at their feet.
When the call came to join the secret Order, they went arm in arm, full of dreams of making a difference and saving the day. So during the days they fought and at night they didn't hide behind curtains anymore or spoke in whispers. They had their own home now and no reason to remain secret.
And if Sirius doubted he could ever be enough, and Remus struggled to earn his living, it didn't really matter, because it was in each other's arms that they found peace and all the strength they needed. And they still didn't fear the future for there was always someone to catch them if they fell.
Death ripped their picture-perfect world apart. When it was their friends' names that graced the countless tombstones, they had to admit they weren't making such a big difference after all.
And Sirius became the auror prodigy, never willing to give in, bringing home scars that even love couldn't heal. And Remus grew more tired with every passing day, every job lost and every meal missed, slowly being cowed by harsh truths that even love can't soften. They did still love each other, but their future wasn't golden anymore. It was only the black and white of war and death. Of trying and not being good enough. Of fighting monsters within and without.
Their kisses weren't sweet anymore and their touches weren't caring. They clung to each other at night, never willing to let go, because what would be left of them then? They were still pure and only whole in the other's arms, but it never seemed to be enough.
And suddenly they were afraid, because their lives hadn't turned out as promised and even while being together, everything was falling apart.
The whispers of 'spy' and 'traitor' were their undoing. It was so very wrong and painful and they wanted so desperately to hold onto their faith. But somehow they turned into Black and the Werewolf, the dark heir and the monster within. Distrust settled into their eyes and fear strangled their hearts. Words were left unspoken and every defeat drove them farther apart.
Their kisses became bruising, their touches burning pain. And when they shared a bed these days, it was to hurt and be hurt, to rip down the barriers between them, to find out what lay beneath. (They never did.)
But they still dreamed of their future, even though it was a distant, near impossible thing, drowned in an ocean of betrayed friendship and strained trust. They weren't together anymore, but they could never really be apart, either, torn between the love of invincible children and the fear of mortal men.
Then, someday, they was just him. They were a broken boy and the real monster revealed. They were endless strings of painful memories which scared Remus just as much as the darkness before him.
There was no Sirius anymore, only a crazed murderer who had played them all wrong, rotting away in a prison of fear and regret. There was no Remus, only a hollow man struggling to survive, all the while wondering why he even bothered. There weren't kisses and touches anymore, nor dreams and shared nights.
The whole world cheered and reveled in their freedom, bought by blood and tears and more than they were ever willing to pay.
It was over. And there wasn't a future anymore.
Years later, they met again, the convict and the beast, the broken brothers, the lovers fallen so far. They were almost strangers, not Sirius, the prodigy, not Remus, the genius, not Black and Wolf. Only two men who had survived against all odds.
They never touched during the days and never mentioned the past. They buried their fears beneath strained smiles, and the shattered remnants of dreams long gone beneath careful, meaningless words.
It was the nights that made them go on, clinging onto each other like they did when everything was falling apart. But they weren't hurting anymore, they were soft kisses and gentle touches, open words and honest eyes. And if Sirius woke a dozen times, his mind held captive by a hundred different nightmares, and if Remus didn't dare close his eyes, afraid that everything would turn out a bittersweet illusion if he ever looked away, it almost didn't matter, because as long as they could feel each other they would somehow make it through another day. They were almost invincible again.
And there, in the safe darkness of their room, they had a future.
Only they hadn't. Their next farewell was their last. They were no strangers to death or the cruel jokes of life. So if Remus broke even further when Sirius was taken from him again, it didn't really matter because he knew his time would come. And if he didn't eat and sleep and smile anymore, he didn't really care, because all their sweet hopes had been just as empty as he now was.
And if he embraced his end, despite the child waiting for him and the promises he made, he guessed it was all right, because there had only ever been one place he called home. He was just so tired and then he didn't fight it anymore. He knew there was someone to catch him when he fell.