AN: This was written for Week 1: First Aid in the Camp Potter II challenge. The prompts were storm, ashes, and regret. I also used the optional prompts trustworthy and escape, albeit not as prominent themes and I sort of used trustworthy as not trustworthy. I still used it the way it was written too though. If that makes any sense.

You sit in silence in the Hospital Wing together with the ashes of your burned and broken heart. Well, not really sit. You're not well enough to sit up yet. You aren't silent by choice, either. Madam Pomfrey can't cast a spell to help you breathe because it can't be mixed with some potion or another that she has you on, so you're wearing a breath mask. She's charmed it to work in magical environments. Technically illegal, but she claims she's gotten a pass for it from the Ministry. You think she must not have mentioned whom it was for, because the Ministry would rather let you die.

James and Peter sit next to you. They can't quite look you in the eye. You know it's not their fault, but you're having trouble looking at them too. You can't help but be angry with them, as though by association with the Traitor they've somehow become treacherous themselves. They haven't though. James could have let him die, and Peter could have not insisted that they tell you what had happened. That they decided to tell you just shows how much more respect they have for you than the Traitor does.

James clears his throat again. "I know what he did was awful, Moony, but listen-"

You roll your eyes and turn your head away as way of interruption. "Here we go again…"

"No, really, listen to me." James insists. You hesitate; you really do not want to hear whatever excuse James has concocted for him. The fact that the Traitor isn't here to make his own excuses is bad enough. You just can't believe that James has fell for whatever story he's told him to get him to do this. "Please, Rem." You roll your eyes again, but turn your head back and arch an eyebrow.

"What?"

James looks relieved, as though your willingness to listen signifies your willingness to forgive. Which you're not, not at all. "Rem, I know this whole thing is awful, and there's no real way to excuse it, but… listen, you know the problems he's been having. He was drunk, and-"

A raspy bark of muffled laughter escapes your mouth, and quickly turns to coughing. "Right, because that excuses it!" Your throat feels raw from one of the potions Madam Pomfrey had him drink, one that tasted like liquid fire. Part of him suspects it was really firewhiskey and not a potion for the pain like she told you. Then again, what was the difference? You think about trying to summon her and get her to give you more. You wonder how much you would have to drink to wash away the memory of the Traitor.

James looks annoyed now. "Remus, he can't think straight when he's like that! You know he's trying to control it!" You wish you could talk, so that you could explain everything that was wrong with what he'd just said. You want to scream at him, let all of your anger boil over and take it out on James. You take as deep a breath as you can manage, trying to calm yourself. You try to convey all your thoughts with a look.

"Don't look at me like that." James grumbles. "I'm just trying to show you… Look, it would be different if he was sober, but…" He trails off again, biting his lip.

Peter decides to chime in. "I think he's more upset about how this came about, Prongs." He says helpfully. "Y'know, about the drinking in general. About how he can't stop and now he's gone and done something majorly stupid because of it."

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I know, Wormtail, it's just…" He looks at you, and you see some of the same pain you're feeling mirrored in his eyes. "I don't want this to ruin things." He says softly. "I miss the days when it was just the four of us pulling pranks and skipping class, when we didn't have to worry about you or Sirius or…" He pulls off his glasses, suddenly very interested in whether or not they are clean. You slide your hand across the bed so it touched James's knee.

He looks at you with hope. You shake your head. "I can't forgive what he's done, but I understand what you're saying." James sighs.

"Do you want to see him?" Peter asks you. "He's pretty broken up about everything, but maybe he can clear stuff up. Tell you what he was thinking and all." He pops a chocolate frog into his mouth.

You're sorely tempted. You want things to go back to normal, you really do. The way you want that to happen is not to forgive the Traitor, though. You want to rewind time, to go back before Sirius's drinking problem ever started and stop it. Or more simply, you would settle for an Obliviate so you can just forget the whole thing ever happened. You want to erase the past, and frankly you don't care how it happens or what else gets damaged, so long as you don't have to feel this pain anymore.

James must see the conflict in your eyes, because he presses forward. "He hasn't left the dorm since the incident, and we haven't been able to get him out of bed either. And he hasn't even looked at a bottle of anything alcoholic." You'd been unconscious for two days, and this evening would make it about the third since the the incident. That was a long time for him; the Traitor usually barely went twelve hours without having a drink, and was so jittery that he didn't stay in a chair for a whole class period. It almost convinces you, before you realize how pathetic it is that you're actually impressed. You turn away.

"I know it's bad, Rem." James says softly. "I know the git doesn't deserve it, or you. Just listen to what he has to say, though. You can't hate him without hearing his side of things."

You cock an eyebrow at him. "Have you heard what he has to say?" The eyebrow says.

"We've heard what he has to say. It's not a lot; mostly about how he hates himself and how he can't believe he let himself get that drunk on the full moon." Peter tells you. James gives him a murderous look, and he quickly adds, "But that's only what we got out of him. It's different with you. I'll bet there's something else that he'll only tell you."

You bite your lip under the mask. You want to see him so bad. You want to bury your head in his chest and forgive him everything. Forgiving him won't make the pain stop though; you know from experience that every time you tell him it's okay when it's not, the hole in your heart only gets bigger. He's let you down so many times. Why would this time be any different? You know its only fair to listen to whatever he has to say. Goddammit, though, you're tired of this, of feeling like you're being used.

Finally, you nod. It's ever so slight a movement, and you hope for a minute that they didn't see. James's face lights up like a Christmas tree, and Peter's grin reaches his ears. "Brilliant!" James nearly shouts. Then he composes himself, forcing his face into a more solemn expression. "I know this isn't easy, Rem. I'm sorry about all this, really."

"You got nothing to be sorry about. You saved Snape." Peter points out. James rolls his eyes.

"It was a courtesy apology, Pete. I was just sympathizing with him, not saying I had something to apologize for." He tells him, and they continue the half argument out into the hallway. You figure they must be on their way to bring the Traitor to you. You know you agreed to this, but you're suddenly paralyzed by fear. You want to do this, sort of. Just not yet.

It's not ten minutes before Sirius is in the room, you note with amusement. He must have sprinted the whole way there. He doesn't come in immediately, though. He hesitates in the doorway, staring wide-eyed at you. You know this is the worst you've ever been, and Sirius was never one to lie to you about how bad you looked. It prompts a bit of a smile before you remember that you're angry. You position your head so that it looks like you're staring at the ceiling, but really you're looking at him. You're studying every nervous tick, every breath he takes, looking for a reason to give up and forgive him.

"Moo-Remus." He says, and then nothing more. You raise a hand as high as you can, which is about three inches, and then wiggle your fingers towards yourself.

"Come on in."

Sirius walks in slowly and sits next to him. You look at him expectantly, but nothing happens at first. He just sits there, staring at his feet. He opens his mouth a couple times to say something, but stops himself and only stares at the floor. You wonder what the likelyhood is that the other Marauders are waiting outside to hear them kiss and make up. A lovely thought, but you're not in any shape to be kissing anyone.

Finally, he speaks. "I don't know what to say." he says quietly.

You roll your eyes. You would scoff if you could, but it takes too much air and you're feeling rather tired now. You look back at him and raise your eyebrows. "Really?" the actions say. "You put up a fuss for three days to see me and make your explanations and excuses, but you have nothing to say now? Pathetic." Sirius seems to understand all this from your facial expressions. It's one of the reasons you love him so much.

"I…" he tries again. "I don't know why I did it. I didn't think about it, he just…" he shakes his head. "Snape was saying so much crap about you. I thought I had to stop him, thought it would scare him if I…" You are trying to understand, trying to see past your hurt, but this is a bit ridiculous. You stare at him and twitch an eyebrow, as if to say, "Go on. What could he have possibly said that would justify what you did? Since when do you listen to Sniv- Snape anyway?"

Sirius hangs his head in shame for a moment, then looks back up at you. His eyes search yours for any hint of forgiveness, any hint that you could understand. It's now that you realize just how awful he looks. There's dark bags under his eyes, which are bloodshot. His hair is a mess and his skin is more pale than usual. James really wasn't kidding about him not leaving the dorm all this time, you think. You realize you have no real emotional reaction to this, which leads to only more emotional turmoil. You want to forgive him; you want to push him away. You love him; you hate him. You drag a hand up and rub at your eyes as best you can.

"I was walking down the halls," he starts. His voice is very quiet, almost a whisper. If you didn't have better senses than the average person, you probably wouldn't have heard. You look up with new interest. He's going to tell you the whole story. "I don't remember why or where I was going. Anyway, I bumped into Snape. He must've been paying extra careful attention to me or something because he'd figured out my drinking problems. He started ragging on me about them, and it took me a minute to figure out that he was probably hiding something." He shook his head, angry with himself. "Obviously he was. Merlin, I'm never drinking again."

You smile at this and catch his eye. His face quirks into a little half smile, but then it's gone and the solemn expression is back. "I started trying to get it out of him, but he wasn't having it. Eventually he brought you up, and…" Sirius shook his head and jammed the heels of his hand into his eyes. "Merlin, Rem, he knows." You look confused.

"Of course he knows. He did just see me transform after all."

"Not about the werewolf thing. I mean, he knows that too now, but..." Sirius says at the look. "I mean he knows about us."

You dealt with him knowing about the wolf. Dumbledore had told you as soon as you were lucid that Snape wasn't allowed to tell anyone, ever. He'd hinted at something more, something magical, but you wouldn't have asked even if you could have. This, though, this is too much. There's nothing that you can do about him knowing about this. You're good with Memory Charms, but you have no doubt that Snape would never allow you to get him alone after this, so that option is out too. He can tell anyone that he wants. He can make your life and Sirius's life a living hell. He will hold it over your head as long as you live, this you know for certain.

Sirius sees all this reflected in your eyes. "If there still is an us, that is." he mutters, his voice so low you barely caught it that time. He doesn't wait for any sort of answer, just plows right through. "He started talking about how wrong it was and how disgusting we are and… I remember thinking I had to find a way to get back at him, and after that…" he shook his head. "Honestly, it's a bit of a blur. I don't really remember what I told him to get him down there, I just remember thinking, 'That'll teach him. He won't say crap about any of us after that.'"

"That's a bit worrying." You're half amused and half disturbed by Sirius's apparent line of thought. He sees this and shakes his head vehemently.

"Not like that!" he adds hastily. "I never meant to… to kill him or anything. I just wanted to scare him."

You shake your head. You understand, you really do, this line of thought. You've had it before, but you've always been able to control it by telling yourself that it was the wolf talking, not you. You've been drunk before, but you've never been so drunk that you would let the wolf do whatever it wants, let it hurt people and put them in danger like that. Sirius doesn't even have a wolf inside of him, so what's his excuse?

You turn away. Sirius squirms uncomfortably for a minute. "So…" he starts. "Do you think… would you ever be able to… I know I don't deserve it, believe me. I hate what I did and I hate myself for doing it, but…" You don't look back. You haven't decided what you're going to do yet, and you've decided you're not going to talk to him or look at him until you do. You won't let his clever words sway your opinion, or his puppy-dog eyes manipulate you into giving in. Not this time. "Can I ever make it up to you?" he finally asks, voice tentative.

You still don't respond. He reaches out a hand and lets it brush yours. You let him take your hand. He holds it between his two, and you squeeze it as best you can. He leans down and kisses your fingers. "I love you, Remus Lupin," he whispers. "I hope I haven't ruined everything. I'm going to sober up. Dumbledore has me going to Madam Pomfrey for potions and therapy and that sort, and you know she won't let up until I'm good as new. I'll even be kinder to Snape if you want." You know whatever it was Pomfrey gave you must be kicking in, because the pain in your chest is disappearing and your lungs are working by themselves. You feel the urge to rip off this stupid mask and kiss him, to hold him close and run your fingers through his hair. You don't, though. You remind yourself that you're angry, that he has to actually prove that he's going to make it up to you and get sober before you even think about forgiveness. You resist the urge to turn and face him again.

After a minute, he gets up and leaves without saying anything more. The other Marauders don't come back in, and he's alone once more. Pomfrey comes out of her office and examines him once more, muttering under her breath about visitors obstructing her work. She lets him take off the breath mask, but replaces it with some lesser breathing option, some tube. She explains that this is also a Muggle device and therefore she'd appreciate him not spreading the word about where it came from. She goes on to explain how it works, but he's not paying attention anymore.

The potions are working quickly and your strength has doubled by the time she's left the room. She's left a Dreamless Sleep potion on the counter for you, and you're sorely tempted. You won't let yourself do what Sirius did. You won't try to drown out your brain in order to avoid facing the problem at hand. So you sit in your mind, stewing, half of you trying to come up with an answer for him and half of you trying to block out any and all thoughts about him. The wolf puts in it's two cents about the betrayal of it's mate, but you shut it out in anger.

Your emotions feels like a raging storm, a battle between your heart and your brain fiercer that you've ever experienced. Forgiving him would be so easy. All of this would just go away if you would let go and just forgive him. Just let him push you over and walk over your broken body. You don't want to make the decision of whether to forgive or to shun. You want James or Pete to tell you what to think, or anyone for that matter. More than anything, though, you just want the world to fall away. You look longingly at the Dreamless Sleep potion again, resisting for what you know will be the first of many times over the next few weeks. Finally, you begin to understand.