Sirius stared at the drink in his hand. With his free hand, he reached up and ran a hand through his hair. He struck an impressive figure in his black suit, long black hair somewhat tamed for once. He didn't look up as the bar door opened. Nor did he look round when the tall, thin man sat down next to him. Remus ordered a scotch and soda in a quiet voice from the bartender, who brought it to him quickly. The two sat by side and drank, never looking at each other. Finally, when his glass was empty, Sirius glanced at Remus. He looked surprised. "You're wearing a suit," he mumbled. He had lost track somewhat of how many drinks he had put away.
"I am," Remus said, looking down at Sirius, still on his first glass.
"Why?"
"Just in case," Remus said.
"I'm not going," Sirius barked, turning back to face his empty glass. The bartender made to refill the glass, but Remus sent him away with a look.
"That's fine," Remus said evenly.
"I'm not," Sirius said again, looking back up at the taller man, who calmly took a sip.
"And that is fine," Remus said again. He looked down at Sirius, and his expression was so tender that Sirius had to look away. "Sir, really. It's fine to not go."
"I know that," Sirius muttered.
"But it's also okay if you want to go," Remus added softly. Sirius looked back at the werewolf, his eyes slightly bloodshot. Remus was staring at the mirror behind the bar. Sirius glanced at it, and the two men locked eyes in the reflection. "He was your brother, Sirius. It's okay to want to go."
"He was a bloody Death Eater who got what he deserved," growled Sirius, looking back down at his glass.
"Perhaps," Remus said. "Although you know as well as I do that he was trying to get out when he died. Not that that excuses anything, of course. But still, Sir. He was your closest family. It's okay to be sad. It's okay to go and mourn."
"I can't see them," Sirius said, so quietly Remus nearly didn't hear him. "I can't face that alone."
"You aren't alone," Remus said. Sirius didn't look at him, but Remus reached over anyway, sliding a hand onto his shoulder. The tension in Sirius was palpable as Remus touched him, but seemed to slip away as he held his hand there. Sirius seemed to almost be deflating from the inside out.
"I don't think I can do it," Sirius said, even more quietly now. Remus saw the tear drops falling into the glass Sirius was cradling in his lap.
"I'm with you, Sirius," Remus said. He slid his hand down Sirius's arm, and gently pulled the cup out of his grasp. He set it on the bar, then pulled out some muggle money from his pocket. He put the bills on the bar, and stood up, catching hold of Sirius's hand. "Come on. Let's get out of here."
Sirius ran his free hand across his eyes roughly, but allowed himself to be led out of the shabby bar. They stepped out onto the street, but Remus led Sirius around the corner and into the dingy alleyway. He let go of Sirius's hand and stepped back, crossing his arms and leaning against the brick wall, as Sirius sunk down onto a plastic crate that was sitting on its side on the ground. Sirius let his head fall into his hands.
They stayed like that for a while, Remus watching Sirius, Sirius with his eyes screwed up shut behind his fingers. Then Sirius spoke, but Remus could not understand him.
"What's that?" he asked, not moving from his spot.
"I can't –" But Sirius could not speak. Instead, tears seemed to tear out of his throat unbidden. He stood up suddenly, grabbed the plastic crate and threw it, hard, against the far wall. Remus stayed put as Sirius let out a scream like a wounded dog, throwing his head back towards the sky. Sirius grabbed the next nearest item, a beer bottle that had been sitting next to the crate, and threw that against the wall as well, where it shattered. Three more bottles met the same fate, one right after another. Then Sirius looked around wildly, desperate for something else to break, when his eyes lighted on Remus, who was still standing, calmly, arms crossed, as though he had known this was what would happen. Sirius stared at Remus, anger and remorse making his skin practically ripple with tension, his hands in fists. Then, just like he had done inside, he seemed to crumple. Before he could hit the ground, Remus was there, catching hold of Sirius and dragging him upright. Remus wrapped his arms around him as Sirius wailed, still sounding more canine than human. Remus had his arms pinned down, and could feel Sirius practically vibrating out of his skin.
It seemed like an age before Sirius finally quieted. Remus released him, and the two of them sat down on the dirty ground, backs against the wall. Sirius's eyes did not hold any tears, but they were red. He stared down at his own hands, which were trembling.
"I miss him," Sirius said quietly.
"I know," Remus said.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" Sirius asked, looked into Remus's eyes with desperation etched over every part of his face. "How can I miss him? He was weak. He was a Death Eater. He was downright evil."
"He was never evil, Sir," Remus said. "And he may have been all those other things, yes, but he was still your brother. Your little brother. That never really goes away, does it. Family is family."
"I don't want my family," Sirius said.
"I know," Remus replied.
"I just want him not to be dead," Sirius said, looking again at his trembling hands.
"I know," Remus said again, and now, finally, emotion came through in his voice, as it trembled, just a bit, at the end. He swallowed, hard, trying not to dwell on Regulus as he had known him – young, quiet, quick with answers to teacher's questions, but slow to respond to the bullies that had picked on him since he had first arrived at Hogwarts. Regulus at Sirius's seventeenth birthday party, a little drunk (though Sirius was far drunker), telling Sirius that he loved him, even though they didn't see the world in the same way. Regulus, happening upon Sirius and Remus snogging in their fifth year, his fourth, and not saying a word to anyone, just quietly walking away and keeping his mouth shut. Regulus, a prefect, being silenced by older Slytherins when he tried to make them follow the rules. Regulus, young, scared, but proud, joining the Death Eaters. Regulus, dead.
"I cannot face…them," Sirius said, and Remus was dragged back to the present, back to the Black brother whom he could still help. The one he loved, though he had never told him that, not even in the happy times. The boy he had kissed "for practice," then for fun, then, later, for real. The man he had hated, and loved, and never quite trusted. The man he had not seen for going on six months now. The boy he had grown up with. Regulus was gone, but Sirius, Sirius was there, and alive, and Remus could help him, maybe. If he tried.
"Sirius, I…" Remus swallowed again, suddenly nervous. He forced himself to continue. "I know this isn't the time, but…"
"What?" Sirius asked, looking up at him.
"Nothing," he said. "Never mind. I just wanted to say that I'm here, mate. I'm here if you want to go to the funeral. I'm here if you want to get completely sloshed and start a bar fight. I'm here if you just want to go home and go to bed for the next few days."
He blushed as these last words slipped out. He hadn't meant it in that way, but with Sirius he always seemed to say the things he didn't mean to.
Sirius was staring at Remus. He barely seemed to be listening, and yet at the same time, he seemed to hang on every word. Remus felt his blush deepened, and he looked back down at the dirty ground.
"Moony," Sirius said softly, but Remus didn't look up until he felt he had, at least somewhat, composed himself.
He was wrong. When he looked up, at the man he loved and hated, Remus felt the tears well up in his eyes. But this was not about him, not about them, and he was determined to be there for his friend, Sirius, even if they could no longer be anything more than that. Sirius had made their relationship quite clear after they had left Hogwarts. It was all well and good to mess around and have fun while they were in school, he had said. But they were adults now, and it was time to become a little more serious.
Remus had laughed when he said it, but the laugh had died quickly at the look on Sirius's face. "I love you," Sirius had said, just like that, and Remus had felt distinctly like someone had cast Wingardium Leviosa on him. But Sirius's next words had brought him crashing back down to earth.
"I love you, and I want to be with you. For real. No more of this school boy nonsense, this sneaking around and snogging in the corners. I want all of you, Remus. I want us to be us, not just when we're alone, but all the time. I want to live with you, and be with you. I want to marry you someday, and have a family together. I want everything, Moony. I want everything with you."
Remus could still picture every single part of that moment. They had been standing on the Hogwarts grounds, still in their graduation robes. Peter and James had gone ahead with Lily, all three giddy and flushed after a graduation ceremony livened up with a flask of firewhiskey. Remus and Sirius had stayed behind, citing some excuse they were sure their friends hadn't bought. They had walked around the lake to the far side, practically into the forest, where they could hold hands, and kiss, and revel in their accomplishment. They had just broken apart from a kiss when Sirius had spoken.
Sitting on the dirty ground of the alleyway in London under the cloudy sky, Remus felt as far away from that moment on the sunlit grounds of Hogwarts as he had ever been. He could remember, it, yes. How it felt. How his heart had soared, then shattered. How he had wanted more than anything to kiss Sirius, to say he loved him too, to say yes, yes to everything, to a lifetime. How he had pulled away instead. How he had reminded Sirius of what he was, and shot down the older boy's insistence that it did not matter, for it did, it did matter. It always mattered. Remus wouldn't be starting a family, or living a full and happy life. Remus would spend his adult life moving. Scared. In pain. And, apparently, alone.
Sirius had walked away, ducking his head to hide the tears already spilling, and Remus had stayed behind, wandering around the forest blindly for an hour before he finally headed back to Gryffindor common room for one last party.
Nothing in the sixth months since graduation had convinced Remus that he was wrong to turn Sirius away. True, he had a steady apartment to live in, but only because of James's generosity. Remus couldn't find work, whether he lied about his condition or not. He locked himself up once a month, in chains, desperately alone without his transformed friends. It seemed as though they had forgotten that while they had all left Hogwarts, he had not left his disease behind. He felt broken, tired, a shell of the man he had been just half a year previously.
And then Reg had died, and James had owled Remus, and Remus had gone to find Sirius.
Remus tried to get his mind back on track, back to the dead boy, the dead man, the reason for them both sitting in their best clothes on the ground in an alley in the London, just two blocks away from Number 12 Grimmauld Place. It had always been difficult to think clearly with Padfoot around. But Remus, tears still swimming in his eyes, stayed focused on Sirius.
"I know I haven't seen much of you lately," Remus said, trying to keep his voice steady. "But I'm here to go to the funeral with you. If that's what you want. You don't have to talk to anyone, or do anything. We can sneak in the back. You don't have to go. But I'm here to go with you, if you want to go."
"James," Sirius said, and Remus blinked, confused. "James sent you?"
"Yes," Remus said.
"Why didn't he come himself?"
"He said he had already tried," Remus explained, trying not to feel stung that Sirius wanted James there instead of him. After all, they hadn't spoken in months. "He said…"
"Yes?" Sirius asked, his eyes never leaving Remus's.
"He said that you needed everyone who loved you around, and that that included me," Remus said, surprised at his own bravery for voicing this aloud.
Sirius nodded. "Smart bloke, that Potter."
"Is he?" Remus asked.
"Isn't he?"
"I thought…I thought you sort of hated me," Remus said.
Sirius kept his gaze steady as he responded. "I sort of do."
Remus nodded, dropping his gaze to his hands. They swam in front of him as his tears welled up and fell. The drops landed on Sirius's hand, as he slid it, warm and rough, into Remus's joined ones. Remus looked at Sirius.
"I sort of hate you, Moony," Sirius said again. "But I will always love you."
Remus nodded. "I know the feeling."
"I haven't seen you," Sirius said. "In months. I would have thought you had died, but James said you still see them, sometimes. I thought the next time I would see you might be at the wedding. Maybe."
"You would have," Remus said. "Seen me. I would have come to the wedding."
Sirius looked at him, and Remus felt his insides squirm around at the half truth. Yes, Sirius would have seen him at the wedding. But would he have spoken to Padfoot? Or would he have hidden away and left early. Remus himself wasn't sure.
"Maybe I would have," Sirius said, now looking down at their joined hands. "But I am glad to see you sooner than that."
"Really?" Remus tried to keep the longing out of his voice.
"Yes, Moony, of course," Sirius said, looking at him. "Merlin, did you really think I didn't want to see you?"
"You didn't speak to me," Remus said. He tried not to sound defensive. "After that day, by the lake. We had another twenty-four hours together, Sirius, and you didn't even look at me once. And then you got off the train at Kings Cross, and that was it. You were gone."
"It's not like you came after me, either," Sirius said. His voice was starting to sound angry, although he still held onto Remus's hands. "You let me go, Remus. And of course I didn't come after you. You had just shot me down. I was supposed to go chasing around after you like a lovesick puppy?"
"No!" Remus said, and was surprised to hear the own anger flare up in his voice. He tried to take a deep breath before he continued, focusing his eyes on Sirius's hand in his lap. Somehow, he couldn't quite seem to manage to get his breathing in order. "No, of course I didn't expect you to come chasing after me. But I thought you wanted…this. For me to leave you alone."
"I never wanted you to leave me, Remmy," Sirius said softly. At the sound of his old nickname, the name only Sirius had ever called him, Remus looked back up at the black haired man, who was staring at Remus with so much intensity that Remus almost gasped. "All I wanted, all I have ever wanted, is to be with you."
And they had come to it. They had circled back around, past anger and hatred, all the way to longing and love, and back again. Their problems were still there. Nothing had changed in the last six months. Sirius still wanted everything and Remus could offer nothing.
Remus pulled his hands away from Sirius's. Sirius slowly took his own hand back, running it through his dark hair. When Remus spoke, it was soft, so soft Sirius nearly had to lean in to hear him. "I still…care about you, Sir. I always, always will. Nothing could ever change that. But nothing can ever change me, either. I am who I am, what I am. The…monster I live with will never be gone. Nothing has changed since I told you this last time. My future is misery. Not being able to find work, to find a place to live. I'm never going to have children, Sirius. I'm not running anyone else's life."
Sirius stared at him for a long minute. Then he spoke. "Do you remember when we first met?"
"I…what?" asked Remus, startled.
"Do you remember when we first met?" Sirius asked again.
"Of course," Remus said, furrowing his brow.
"I remember it so well," Sirius said. "Every single detail. I remember the train, and the sorting, and the feast. I remember meeting you in the dormitory, and how much you hated James and me at first. And how we wore you down. I remember you so completely.
"You were perfect. You were a sarcastic little shit, and you were a slob, and you were infuriating, but you were perfect. Good, and kind, and brilliant. But you had scars, and you were dark, and you understood self-loathing. And I couldn't understand why this perfect, beautiful boy could understand this kind of self-hatred, but you did, and even though I hate it, and I wish you didn't understand it, and it's fucked up, it made you more perfect. You got it. You understood it.
"James is my best mate, and he will always be my best mate, and I love him. I would die for him. But he doesn't get it. He is full of light and self-confidence. His life is, has been, full and good. Things have been hard for him, yes. His parents, and the war, and yes, life has been tough for him. But he does not hate himself. Not how we hate ourselves.
"I do not love you in spite of your monster within. I do not love you even though you are broken. I do not love you in spite of that self-hatred.
"I love you because you are damaged and broken and dark just like me. I love you because you are scarred and you understand my scars. James lives in the light and that is good and I need that, but you, Remus, you live in the darkness with me. You occupy the darkest, most broken, damaged parts of me; and I need that. I will not make it through this world without you. I will not. Please. Be broken, and scarred, and fucked up with me. Live in the darkness with me."
"I...want to."