Invincible
Sirius Black no longer scared easily. He had taken beatings like a man before he was one. He had stood up to those who had told him that he did not belong; that his friends were below him; that he was a traitor and deserved to die because of who he had fallen in love with. He had escaped his tyrannical family, the lure of a dark wizard, attack by his deranged cronies and a lifetime behind bars for a crime he had not committed. Withered and delirious, he had swum across rough waters to dry land, and sought out revenge against the true criminal, only to fall by chance into the arms of his oldest friend and love of his life, Remus Lupin. They had not seen each other in twelve years but a flame had continued to flicker, where Sirius was certain it had gone out.
Another year later, they were living together in the house they'd used to share, and Sirius was terrified. They could not fall seamlessly back in to their old routines. He waited anxiously for the moment when he would mess everything up. He struggled to sleep through the night, hounded by nightmares and phantom screams. He was constantly on guard, flinching and twitching at the slightest noise. His years behind bars had made him hyper sensitive and forgetful too. He had not thought of Remus in prison. Not only because it was painful but also because memories of him were precious. Sirius had refused to allow the Dementors to take them from him.
Now he was constantly bombarded by sudden memories. Sitting at their writing desk, he could fondly recall the many occasions Remus had fallen asleep over it. He had spent long nights in large jumpers, printing propaganda pamphlets for the secret society they were apart of and sending letters of condolences to bereaved friends. Whilst the war had weathered them, it had not changed the desk. There in the right hand corner where Sirius had left it were his hastily carved, now fifteen-year-old, declarations of young love. "How could you bear to sit here?"
Guilt was another thing which casually resurfaced to ruin him. It had surged through his veins those twelve years in prison. Despite being innocent, he had felt no desire to escape. In his mind he was just as guilty as everybody else, because he had broken a promise; 'Our strength lies in unity. Trust in all or trust in none'. The first time his best friend James had spoken those words, he, Sirius and their other friend Peter had just discovered that Remus, despite best attempts to hide it, was a werewolf. Yet it had been Sirius's mistrust in Remus which had led them all over the precipice. When James and his family were targeted by the dark wizard Voldemort, to ensure their safety only one person could be entrusted with the knowledge of their whereabouts. Sirius knew that as James's best friend, he was an obvious suspect. He insisted they use Peter who nobody would think to interrogate. That single suggestion had resulted in two deaths, an orphaned little boy, an idiot behind bars, a traitor on the run and Remus left choking in the settling dust.
Unlike James and his wife Lily, they had not made vows of 'til death do us part'. They had however exchanged rings and made similar promises which Sirius still swore to uphold. When he had discovered Remus's secret at school, he had been blindsided by the idea of having someone with the strength of ten men as a friend. The reality of it had hit him, when he'd arrived in the hospital wing at dawn with chocolates and butterbeer, only to be vomited on by a shivering wreck that barely resembled his bookish friend anymore. He hadn't been put off. He had simply cleaned himself up and offered a hand. He had endeavoured to be waiting at his bedside every month at dawn but both his head of house and Remus insisted that his health and education were more important.
Regardless of the love and dedication Sirius had already shown, Remus had been reluctant to move in with him. He hadn't wanted to be a burden on him. Sirius had pretended to sulk. Secretly he had bought a cabin in the woods and spent a week decorating, putting together bookcases, stocking a potions cabinet with healing draughts and soundproofing the cellar. Remus Lupin had sought him out when he felt the most alone, looked past his appearance and his family, asked questions until he got the answer and always played with his hair until he fell asleep. A few days of TLC once a month was nothing; Sirius would have given him his life.
Remus stopped stroking his head and reached across him to down the cup of sedative tea which was sitting on the coffee table. Sirius eyed the dimming sky with trepidation. It had been thirteen years since he had locked him in to the cellar below their home. He still longed to swap places with him so that he would suffer no more pain. He sat up and took up the keys, fidgeting with them anxiously. "You're making me nervous." Remus placed a hand over his to stop his shaking. Sirius ran a thumb over the raised scars on the back of his hand, knowing that in the morning he would have fresh ones. He pulled Remus in to a tight hug. "Sirius, it's just a full moon..." In their schooldays, Remus was often carried back to Hogwarts' hospital wing by Sirius and James, taking an arm each and dripping blood across the entrance hall. Sometimes he'd lost so much blood he slept for days. At others, his immune system had taken such a beating he was violently sick. Sirius had left Remus to do this alone for thirteen years. How had he managed? Had he been forced to lie down in the cellar in a pool of his own blood until he had gathered the strength to stand? Did it take him an hour just to crawl up the stairs? Did he lie on the rug struggling with bandages and healing pastes, crying from the pain and wishing Sirius was there? "Sirius..." Remus ran a hand over his hair, to the nape of his neck and pulled away. He tried to kiss him but Sirius turned his head and he got his cheek instead. Remus did not need to ask. Sirius had always been transparent to him. "Don't beat yourself up..." The tear which had been threatening to fall from Sirius's eyes did so only to be instantly swept away. Now that he was back in Remus's life, all Sirius wanted was to protect him from pain but there was nothing he could do. He had always hated that helplessness. "I'll see you in the morning." He pulled Remus in to a tender last minute kiss and for once he went down to the cellar with a smile on his face.
Sirius locked the door and set to work. As darkness fell, he swept floors, washed dishes, scrubbed surfaces, ironed and put away clean clothes, stacked rogue books, fed plants, put clean sheets on the bed and fluffed pillows. At ten he transformed and went out on an errand. Fifteen minutes later, he was back on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket and ready to call it a night. Not that he could sleep. The silence was too unsettling. Moonlight was slanting in through a gap in the curtains. Below him, Remus had been replaced by a ravenous monster with a thirst for blood. He could have been standing five feet from him on the stairs, scratching at the reinforced cellar door and Sirius would have been none the wiser. For seven hours, he restlessly moved up and down the sofa, paced back and forth, tried to read, poured himself a glass of firewhiskey only to pour it in the sink. He played chess, absentmindedly threw a tennis ball Remus had bought him as a joke, and thought of happier times. In their schooldays most full moons had ended with the four Marauders awkwardly sharing one hospital bed which rustled with sweet wrappers as they poked fun at one another. They had all thought they were invincible.
The moment the sun came up Sirius was supposed to race down the stairs into the cellar, but he stood frozen instead. His hand was wrapped around the knob but he couldn't turn it. The last time he had been with Remus for a transformation Sirius had been forced to attack him to save innocent bystanders. He had not been around for the aftermath. He didn't know what he was going to find and whether he would be able to cope with it. He opened the door. Remus groaned and Sirius almost fell down the stairs in his haste to get to him. Remus was curled, naked and foetal beneath the staircase. Sirius crouched down to reach for him and he shot backwards in fear, hitting his head on a step. "Remus! It's me. It's Sirius. You're safe." Remus allowed Sirius to help him out from under the stairs and to his feet.
"It is you..." he said breathlessly, as though his transformation had taken him back to a time when he had no hope that Sirius would be ever be there again.
Blood spiralled down his legs in ribbons as he stood, embarrassed not by his nakedness but by the state of his scarred, weakened body. Sirius removed his heavy blanket and draped it lightly around Remus's shoulders. His legs collapsed and before he could even think about it, Sirius swept him up in his arms. He had left Azkaban prison an emaciated man and survived on rats, stolen scraps and posted gifts from his Godson, Harry. He had not recovered the strength of his younger years but Remus was frighteningly light. Sirius carried him up the stairs with ease and then up another set to their bedroom where he laid him gently down on the bed. For a moment Sirius stood staring at his barely conscious lover; the deep angry gouges along his forearms and thighs and the fresh and fading bruises which littered his frail body. He had never been powerfully built but once they had kept each other strong.
Sirius dotingly cleaned Remus's wounds, wrapped him in bandages, fed him tonics and dressed him in loose pyjamas. "You can't love me like this, surely?" Remus could not meet his gaze. Sirius leaned across the bed to turn his face to him. They had had this conversation too many times already.
"Get well soon so I can show you just how much." Sirius kissed Remus softly on the lips. Remus smiled and kissed back until Sirius's body was pressing into his and it hurt so much he drew away with a gasp. "Sorry."
"Don't be. It was worth it." The mischievous side of his bookworm lived on. Sirius smirked and turned off the light so that Remus could sleep. He was too wired and got up a few hours later to set up the surprise he'd been planning. He had stolen three bouquets worth of flowers from neighbourhood gardens. Now, he arranged them around the sleeping form in the bed, to hide the smell of healing potions that Remus hated so much. A while later, he came up from the kitchen with a laden tray; egg and soldiers and a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows. "It smells good in here," Remus mumbled sleepily into the covers.
"Open your eyes." They had made it through the darkness.
