A/N - Inspired by the song "Samson" by Regina Spektor, but not nearly as sweet.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter... well a lot of things would and wouldn't happen.

The stars came falling on our heads... but they're just old light.

The party was stifling. Everything was too loud, too hot, to close for Remus. Sirius might thrive on that kind of attention – the girls were even more affectionate under the influence, after all – but it just made Remus claustrophobic. Outside, with the cool night air rustling the leaves around him, Remus could breathe, unwind, just let himself think.

He jumped when Sirius stepped on a twig behind him,

"Not enjoying the party?" Remus asked, turning to face his friend.

"I'm not in the mood tonight," was the sullen reply, and Remus laughed.

"Since when has the great Sirius Black not been in the mood for an enormous, post-Quidditch-booze-up?" he asked, but Sirius only shrugged, leaning against a tall elm that stood at the edge of the Forest. His pale skin almost glowed in the moonlight and his thin frame looked ethereal, cloaked in the shadow of the trees.

"Since now, all right, Remus? I'm bored of it all. Merlin, I've been bored of it all year I just-"

Remus watched while Sirius struggled with the words. It wasn't something he saw often: Sirius lost for words. Remus studied the little creases in his forehead and the way he opened and shut his eyes slowly, trying to process the emotions that he couldn't express. Remus knew better than to interrupt Sirius when he was grappling with such things, so he simply watched as Sirius stuttered,

"Ever since I moved- left- whatever- I just feel so old. I know I should- I should feel great, free and liberated and I do, but there's something else. I can't put my finger on it but it's like now- now I've accepted I can't live with them, and I'm not going to inherit their money even if I wanted to, it's like everything's been thrown into this... this focus and I can't stand it. When you can see the world for all its screaming injustice and the complete ugliness of the whole thing- parties in the Common Room just don't seem so attractive anymore." He finished eventually, kicking at the roots of the tree.

Remus was stunned. Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't that. All he could do was stare at Sirius until he let out a mirthless laugh.

"My my, Sirius. I never thought you'd be one for existential angst."

"Thanks for the support, Moony." Sirius said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"What do you expect me to say, Sirius? 'Congratulations, you've worked it out!' Merlin! I'd always thought the injustice, the 'ugliness' of the world was quite clear but apparently-"

"Don't start, Remus." Sirius interrupted, "I know, all right? I know you're so much worse off than me, that you've probably known this all your bloody life but the least you can do is show a little pity, like we did for you."

That hurt. Once again, Sirius had to break through the comfort and the silence. He had to make things awkward, because that was what he was best at.

"A little pity?" Remus spat, the careful, calm, control that he tried so hard to maintain was starting to slip, and it was all Sirius's fault. It usually was. "Is that what our friendship is? If I'd known that I wouldn't have bothered letting you go to all that trouble."

"Remus you know that's not what I meant." Sirius whispered, and Remus felt the control slip further from his grasp. He wondered briefly how it was that Sirius could do that, could make him crumble with a single word, or a look, but he already knew the answer. He could never maintain his own walls when Sirius laid himself so bare, and yet Remus didn't know how to let them go. In a world where there was nowhere to hide, his own mind was a safe haven, where no-one could touch him, except Sirius. Sirius was part of the reason the walls were up, and Remus knew he should leave it, go back to the castle, but he made no protest as Sirius took his hand and led him further into the forest.

They emerged in a small clearing, bathed in the light of the crescent moon, which could never fail to be familiar. This was the place Sirius had found him after The Snape Incident, the place where Sirius had apologised for the first time in his life and both had cried and sworn never to speak of it again. This was their place, where it was quiet and no-one could intrude. This was the place where Remus had to try most hard to keep control, because the place was Sirius.

He knew he was supposed to say something now, Sirius was looking at him expectantly. Exactly what it was that Sirius expected of him, Remus couldn't say, so Sirius said it for him,

"There's something wrong, Moony. Don't try to deny it. Something's been wrong for a while and you are going to tell me what it is."

It wasn't a request, it was an order. Unfortunately, it was the one order he absolutely did not want to follow, so he followed it as carefully as he could.

"I've always thought," Remus began, determined to tell nothing more than the truth, "that the world itself is not ugly, not unjust. It's people who make it that way, and as long as one has friends – real friends, I mean – then it wouldn't matter. But I think I was wrong. I think the better one's friends the more one can continue to fool themselves. That's what I've been doing for the past six years, but one day I'm going to have to let it go."

It was only after long seconds had passed that Remus became aware that Sirius was staring at him. The expression in his dark eyes was unreadable – another rare occurrence – but slowly, the left hand side of his mouth began to curl upward. It wasn't a smile, it wasn't even half a smile, but it was trying so hard.

"I never knew you were so cynical, Moony," he said, and this time it was Remus's turn to shrug.

"It comes with the territory," he muttered, but Sirius shook his head.

"Merlin's sake, Moony, would you just listen to yourself?" he exclaimed, "You know you're talking bollocks. You could very well argue that hating Muggleborns comes with the territory of being a Black, or that being vicious and bloodthirsty comes with the territory of being a werewolf but we know that isn't bloody true. You just wish you could be cynical, because it hurts less."

"Remind me how many minutes ago it was that you were complaining about feeling old." Remus commented, and Sirius smiled for a second, even if it didn't reach his eyes.

"Turns out I'm a spring chicken compared with you."

"Are you?"

"Yes." Sirius stated, grabbing Remus's arm and pulling him down to the forest floor so they were lying side by side. "Now I'm going to fix it. Look at the sky, Moony, and just try to tell me something cynical about stars."

Remus couldn't help but roll his eyes. He supposed he envied the way Sirius thought that everything could be fixed, and he wished that what he said was true, but there was nothing to be done on that score.

"They're just old light," he sighed finally.

"Oh?" Sirius prompted, turning to look at the boy beside him. Remus didn't, couldn't, look back but instead continued to study the sky as he replied,

"They're so far away that the light takes years and years to reach us. So many of those little pins of light, they're dead but we can still see then shining. One day, maybe, we'll see the explosion but it's still millennia since it really occurred."

Sirius was silent for a second before he muttered,

"Sort of like you, then."

"What?" Remus asked, turning finally to face Sirius, only to find that he was the one now being studiously avoided.

"All the things you've admitted tonight," Sirius said quietly, his voice betraying the emotion he felt even if he tried to keep it from his words, "they haven't just occurred to you now. You always have to hold everything in, don't you? I mean, eventually it all comes out but it's so long after the initial emotion that there's nothing we can do. But thing is, I want to. Give me something to do, please. Something to help."

Remus didn't know what to say. It was like he'd been punched in the stomach. He wanted to tell Sirius everything, to just curl up in his arms and cry, but if he started that he would never stop. That, and Sirius would never speak to him again.

"Say something, Moony, for fuck's sake!" Sirius cried finally, sitting up, "You know, we are meant to be your best friends, me and James and Pete but how do you expect us to help you when you've built a bloody fortress around yourself?"

That was it. The moment when the control was wrenched away and Remus was propelled to his feet. No-one spoke against the walls, not even Sirius Black.

"Did you never think that maybe people build walls for a reason, Sirius? Did you never think that maybe you aren't entitled to just go around trying to batter them down?"

"Why the fuck not?" Sirius shouted, rising to his feet to look Remus directly in the eye. This was dangerous; Sirius's eyes were so black that they seemed to pull Remus in and he had to look away but he couldn't. Then the words were tumbling from his mouth before he could grasp them, process them,

"Because I need you. If I let you in you'd never come back and I can't let that happen. Please, Sirius. You'd never look at me again once you'd seen- once you knew I-"

He was cut off by Sirius's lips on his. Before he knew it, Remus's back was against a tree and the chill of the night air dissipated around him. There was nothing controlled about this; it was all teeth and breath and hands grasping at whatever they could find to draw the other closer. Their breath was coming in ragged gasps as Sirius's cool hand brushed against Remus's stomach. His walls were crumbling around him and for just a second Remus really didn't care. Then he heard it, ringing in his ears, the dreaded word: pity. He whimpered beneath Sirius's lips,

"No. No."

He could feel the doubt and the hurt bubbling up inside him as he fought against Sirius, trying to push him away and draw him closer at the same time. It was with a final burst of energy that Remus pushed Sirius off him. He knew the look that Sirius was giving him; it was the one he always gave when Remus tried to distance himself. Not trusting himself to meet his best friend's eye he looked at the forest floor,

"This isn't what you want," he whispered into the ground.

Then he was running, running so fast that his chest burned and the breath was pummelled from his body. His face was so hot he didn't feel the tears running down his face, nor notice as they dropped to the ground in his wake. The droplets glinted in the stars' old light, but Remus did not see them. Instead, he was picking up the pieces of his walls, building them back up with shaking hands.

A/N - A slight deviation in terms of style for me. Love to hear what you thought :)