Sirius sat at a table, not speaking, just tapping a pen against the top. He was staring into nothing, and Remus would have been concerned by the haunted look on his face if that wasn't the same gaze that Sirius wore almost all the time. Azkaban took a lot out of him, Remus realized. More than a life of full moons and Wolfsbane Potion.
Remus thought that he understood pain. But it was in these bouts of silence, these rare, treasured times that he was able to spend with his old friend, that he realized how deeply Sirius' soul had scarred.
"I still miss them, you know," Sirius said. He didn't look at Remus as he spoke, and Remus wondered if it was hard for Sirius to use his emotions after shutting them off for years. "There are days that I wake up and I miss them so much it hurts to breathe."
Remus didn't respond and Sirius didn't need him to. They both understood pain.
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