Remus stumbled into his flat around four. It was New Year's Eve. Not that he knew that. He groped his way down the hall and into the bathroom, thinking of nothing but discarding his stained and bedraggled clothing and taking a very long shower. He dared not look into the mirror above the sink. He had been out in the werewolf packs for something close to three weeks, if he wasn't mistaken. He had only just made it back in time for the full moon, which inconveniently fell on that particular evening. He had only a few hours before he would have to Apparate to the Shrieking Shack for his transformation.

He pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor in a dirty heap. He shucked off his pants, trousers and socks in one quick movement, kicking them onto the pile. He ran a hand through his hair, attempting to pull out some of the matted snarls. He succeeded only in tangling his fingers. Abandoning the effort, he turned to the tub. He pulled the curtain closed, climbed over the rim and switched on the tap. The water pelted his face. He stood entirely still for several minutes, letting the pressurized water do its work. He stayed under the spray until he felt that his skin had been sufficiently hosed off. He then grabbed for the soap and scrubbed his body from head to foot. By the time he was done, his skin felt raw. But clean. For the first time in weeks, he felt clean.

As he was lathering his hair, he heard the door creak open. He froze, suddenly ashamed with himself. He had not given one thought to Sirius since entering the flat, though he had spent the majority of his time away from it with Sirius on his mind.

"Remus?" Sirius called into the steam.

"I'm here, Sirius," Remus replied, slowly massaging the shampoo into his hair once more.

Sirius stepped into the small bathroom tentatively. He maneuvered his way around the pile of clothing Remus had left in front of the sink. He couldn't help noticing how dirty and destroyed it looked. He stopped when he reached the shower curtain, uncertain if he was welcome here or not. He put a hand out as if to pull back the curtain. "Can I – ?"

"Please," Remus replied swiftly.

Sirius disrobed and stepped into the shower behind Remus. Remus was facing away from him, hands still buried in the soapy froth upon his head. Slowly, Sirius reached for Remus' hands, pulling them away from his hair. He stepped forward, turning Remus around as he did so. He released his hands and instead wrapped his arms around Remus' chest, pulling him close as the water washed the soap from Remus' hair and pelted Sirius in the eyes. "You missed Christmas," he whispered into Remus' neck, pressing kisses into the newly cleaned skin as a sign of forgiveness.

"Did I?" Remus replied, astonished. Sirius nodded into his shoulder. "Padfoot, I –"

"It's okay, Remus," Sirius cut in, pulling back from his lover to look into his eyes for the first time in weeks. "I understand." Although he didn't. He understood less and less about Remus and his 'missions' as the months proceeded.

Remus looked tired. His eyes were lined and baggy. Remus felt tired. He felt it in his bones – much the way he could feel the restlessness of the wolf so close to the Full. He felt old. Older than any twenty-year-old man should feel. He let the warm water run soothingly down his back for several seconds before turning off the tap. He couldn't suffer Sirius' piercing gray eyes for a second longer. They looked sorrowful, pained – full of doubt.

He grabbed for a towel on the rack beside the tub. He wrapped it around himself and stepped out of the shower, handing a second towel to Sirius. Remus left the bathroom and headed for his bedroom before Sirius had even left the tub. Remus' shame was tenfold. He had missed Christmas without even knowing it, and though Sirius said it was all right, it wasn't. And they both knew it. Not much between them was 'all right' these days. In fact, most everything was all wrong. Remus knew what Sirius suspected him of. Remus knew his secretive and time-consuming missions were not helping to assuage Sirius' suspicions. Remus knew they were falling apart at the seams. What Remus didn't know – didn't have any clue about – was how to fix it all. He felt helpless, and suddenly he felt dirty again – dirtier than he ever had on any mission. He felt stained by his curse and by Sirius' mistrust. He wanted to scratch his skin right off.

It was several minutes before Sirius entered the bedroom. Remus was already dressed and towel-drying his hair. He looked up to see Sirius staring at him.
"I'm sorry," he began, dropping his damp towel on the bed. "I didn't realize Christmas had come and gone. What's the date today?" he asked as an afterthought.

"New Year's Eve," Sirius replied.

Again, Remus was stunned. Nearly a week past Christmas, and he hadn't even realized. He had truly lost track of himself in the wild. The only calendar he had been able to follow was the calendar of the moon.

Sirius opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a small box wrapped in silver and gold paper. He held it out for Remus. Remus grasped it gingerly, feeling his face heat with further shame. "I've nothing for you," he said quietly, refusing to meet Sirius' eyes.

Sirius shrugged. "Open it."

Remus nodded dumbly, peeling back the folds of the shiny paper carefully. A black box lay inside. He was afraid to open it, though he couldn't clearly understand or articulate why. With shaking fingers, he pulled the top from the box. It contained a thin gold band with a line of finely etched stars and moons in an alternating pattern. Remus was dumbfounded. He knew not what to say or what to do with the gift. He could only stare at it. Sirius seemed to understand this, if nothing else.

He crouched and sat on his knees before Remus, gently taking the opened box from Remus' hands. "It's… it's for you. For us. For you to remember what we are and – and what we meant to each other once. I know things aren't right between us. They haven't been for a while now, and I'm so – I'm so sorry. I can't – figure it out." He paused, looking up into Remus' eyes hard, as though begging for understanding and acceptance. "But I love you. I know that, even if I don't know about other things so well. I don't – I can't give up on this. I've not been good to you, and I've not treated you like you deserve, and I don't know if that will change, and sometimes I have no idea why you stay, but I'm glad for it. I'm glad you stay." He held the box up to Remus, silently begging him to accept it – the gift, his words, his feelings, all of it.

Remus nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. Sirius nodded too, pulling the ring from the box and holding it out to Remus. Remus held out his hand, palm-up expecting Sirius to place the ring in his hand, but Sirius didn't. He shook his head and grasped the other hand, which had been lying limply at Remus' left side. He slid the ring smoothly onto Remus' third finger before clenching the hand tightly in his own. "This is my promise to you. For brighter days." He stood, wrapping his arms around Remus' waist.

"Thank you," Remus breathed, a strange mix of elation, grief, shame and hope washing over him in confusing, confounding waves. Perhaps the New Year would bring with it a fresh start. Perhaps it would give them a fighting chance in a world that is rapidly falling to pieces. Remus could do with a little hope. He pulled himself tightly into Sirius' embrace, smiling into his damp, naked shoulder. As he did so, his bones creaking a most foreboding manner. He drew away from Sirius sharply.

"I've got to go," he said quickly, in a sudden blaze of panic. "The moon – "

Sirius nodded, pulling his towel from his waist as he searched for clothes. "I'll come with you," he said. "We'll ring in the New Year together, howls and all."

Remus smiled again. He liked the sound of that. Together.