DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters.

The end of a relationship is not always a failure. Sometimes all the love in the world is not enough to save something. In these cases, it is not a matter of fault from either person. Some things cannot be, it's as simple as that.
– Ashly Lorenzana

August, 1981

Remus Lupin wandered through the flat for the third time that hour, checking every room one last time as he went.

He felt like a ghost, a shadow of his former self, drifting through a space that he had once called his home. Every room held its own little history, each playing host to its own set of both good and bad memories. He had once been happy there; content with Sirius and their life together; hopeful, even, for his future and all of its possibilities. But now... Now he was cold and distant; lonely and realistic about his bleak future prospects.

The War had changed him.

The War had changed all of them.

It had taken the lives of so many good people; of innocent civilians and Order members; of friends and entire families; of Muggles and Mages alike. No one and nowhere was safe, and it was hard to keep holding onto hope when it felt like death was lurking around every corner and there were talks of a spy in the Order.

The War had transformed Remus. It had made him paranoid and angry; quiet and secretive. It had made him distrustful of everyone, and he hated it. He felt he could no longer trust even his closest friends and he hated feeling that way because, at one point, he had been able to trust them with his life. Now, he barely trusted himself let alone anyone else.

It was wrong to feel that way, to feel like he couldn't trust his friends (his family). He knew this. But there was nothing he could do about it. Until the War was over, he knew he would remain on guard and suspicious of everyone.

Recently, things had taken a turn for the worse. Order numbers had dwindled to the tens and they were losing more battles than they were winning. No one was safe, and everyone was wary.

As his paranoia grew, and more people began to perish, Remus had begun to resent his life. He had begun to resent his home and his relationship, because everything was different. His home was not his home; it was a place where he occasionally slept. And his relationship was not his relationship; it was a repetition of fights, few words and even fewer fucks.

Everything had changed and Remus knew that he had to get out before he changed irrevocably. He couldn't go on as he was, living as a shadow in a faux version of his once-wonderful relationship. He couldn't go on living a lie and pretending that everything was fine and dandy. He had to leave before he or Sirius changed forever and started resenting each other. He didn't think he could handle it if Sirius began to hate him. Sirius and James and Lily and baby Harry and Peter were his family, and them hating him was a fate worse than death in his eyes.

As Remus walked around the flat, echoes of his past and his relationship with Sirius assaulted him.

The bedroom – their bedroom, it had once been; but not anymore – was tidy, the bed made up and Sirius's clothes picked up off of the floor and put into the washing basket. Remus's own belongings had been packed away into his suitcase, and he had emptied his bedside table. It looked strange, he noted, with one side of the room bereft of him whilst the other was occupied by Sirius. It was a sight that he hadn't seen in years, and he felt a wave of despair wash over him.

He took a deep breath and steadied himself on the door handle, his eyes falling on the bed that he had once shared with Sirius. Flashes of his past and Sirius flooded his mind. He remembered every intimate moment, every whispered confession, every late night and early morning spent wrapped up with Sirius under the covers. He remembered the laughs and the tears, and he sighed silently before he locked the memories away and moved onto the bathroom.

The bathroom was clean, a new shower curtain put up and the white porcelain of the toilet and sink gleaming. Remus worried his lip and looked around the room, remembering all of his mornings and evening spent there with him shaving and Sirius showering – or vice versa. More often than not, he had joined Sirius in the shower. But that hadn't happened so much, recently...

Clearing his throat, he stepped back and headed down the short hallway to the kitchen.

The kitchen was, as always, spotless. The dishes had been washed, dried, and put into the correct cupboards; the countertop benches had been cleaned thoroughly; and the floor had been mopped. Remus had even watered the one plant that sat on the kitchen windowsill, a flat-warming present from Peter when they had first moved in.

Remus frowned and glanced around the small room. Scenes of him and Sirius together came crashing to the forefront of his mind. There had been some bad moments; arguments and tears and harsh words shared. But there had been a lot of good moments as well; laughter and candlelit meals and cooking lessons from Sirius (because Remus couldn't cook to save his life).

Remus swallowed his mixed feelings down and moved away from the kitchen to the sitting room.

The sitting room – or the living room, as Sirius called it – was as tidy as it could be. Surfaces had been dusted; the curtains had been opened to allow the autumn sun in; all of the rubbish had been put in the bin; and the floor had been hoovered. Pushing away from the doorframe, Remus walked over to the couch and righted its cushions.

He and Sirius had, undoubtedly, spent most of their time in the sitting room, watching television, or reading, or talking, or just snuggling up on the couch together. They had talked about their future there, about their imaginary children and their hypothetical house. (A few times, they had made love on the couch, when they just couldn't make it to the bedroom. Recently, it wasn't so much love-making as it was anger-fuelled fucking.) They had argued, of course, but the room was mostly filled with happy memories.

Sitting down, Remus thought about the flat. Everything had been left in order: clean and tidy, and ready for his departure. He debated on checking the flat one last time before he decided no. Three times was enough. Four times would be him delaying the inevitable, and it really was best that he left soon – before Sirius returned home.

Remus glanced around the room briefly before his eyes fell on the small piece of paper on the coffee table with the words 'For Sirius' scrawled on the outside. It was folded over to hide its contents but he knew the message that it held.

Worrying his lip, he stared at the note. He could vaguely hear the Muggle children playing on the street outside, and he could hear the loud ticking of the clock on the opposite wall in the flat. He tore his eyes away from the paper and looked up at the wall clock: 3:58PM, it read.

It was time.

Remus stood up and headed for the bedroom, pausing at the open door. There, at the bottom of the bed, sat his suitcase. He took one final glance around the room that he had shared with Sirius for nearly three years, its long history bombarding him once again, before he entered, picked up his case, and left, gently closing the door behind himself.

An almost overwhelming wave of grief washed over him and he took a moment to steady himself before he walked back into the sitting room and placed his suitcase on the floor behind the couch. He kneeled down and opened it up, checking to make sure that he had all of his essentials. The bag held his most important belongings: most of his clothes and books; all of his photographs and letters.

Everything he needed was there, and he nodded to himself before he closed the bag and zipped it up.

For a brief moment, Remus debated whether or not to leave something behind, to give himself a reason to come back to the flat and see Sirius, but the thought was quickly chased away when he remembered why he was leaving in the first place: to get away, and to save him and Sirius from a future of arguments and resentment.

He didn't want to leave, but he had to. It was for the best, before they changed forever; before there was no chance of salvaging their relationship (romantic or otherwise) in the future.

He had to leave; for Sirius, for himself, and for their future.

His mind made up, Remus stood up and glanced around the room, his gaze falling on the coffee table and the note once more. Inhaling steadily, he picked his suitcase up and turned around. He was just about to head for the door and leave the flat forever when the handle began to rattle and he heard the telltale sounds of a key being slotted into the lock.

Remus frowned.

There was only one person that could be: Sirius Black, his soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

Lowering his bag carefully, Remus glanced over at the clock: 4:09PM, it read. His eyes widened and he turned back to the door, thinking: this was not part of the plan; Sirius shouldn't have been home yet; Sirius should have had Auror training until five o'clock; Remus was supposed to have been out of the flat well before Sirius returned home!

Seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Sirius, handsome as ever but with a slight furrow in his brow. (He was always frowning nowadays, but so was Remus...) Sirius walked into the flat and shut the door behind himself with a lot more force than was necessary before he flung his keys onto the small table by the door, kicked his shoes off, and hung his cloak up.

He did all of this without even registering Remus's presence.

Remus swallowed nervously and took a careful step to his right, attempting to hide his suitcase behind his legs. The movement caught Sirius's attention and he looked up, finally noticing Remus.

His grey eyes were tired and dull; no longer excited and full of life as they had once been. Remus longed to see the fire in Sirius's eyes again but he knew he wouldn't if he stayed. Seeing Sirius like that, worn-out and wary and utterly miserable, reminded Remus that he was doing the right thing; that his decision to leave was the right one. He didn't want to be the reason Sirius was unhappy, but he was and he had to leave before he made it worse.

They stared at each other for a long moment, a tense silence lingering between them. Sirius's brow furrowed, as if the man was confused, and he watched Remus intently. Remus shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and looked away.

"Hi," Sirius greeted gruffly, studying Remus carefully.

Remus cleared his throat and turned back to Sirius, nodding in reply. He refused to fidget under the scrutinising grey gaze and he stared back evenly.

Grey shifted to the poorly concealed bag hidden behind Remus's legs and Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly. His brow furrowed and he gestured to the suitcase, asking, "What...?"

Remus glanced down at the bag and shifted, wondering how he was going to explain. "Oh," he said, struggling to think up an excuse. "This is, uh..." He looked back at Sirius. "Why aren't you at work? I thought you finished at five?" he asked, hoping to divert Sirius's attention.

Sirius looked away from the bag and walked further into the room. "Moody sent me home. Said I needed to get some rest," he explained, glancing around. "You cleaned?" he asked, sounding unsurprised.

Remus nodded and wondered how he could leave the flat now without arousing suspicion. "Why don't you go have a nap?" he suggested. If he could get Sirius out of the room, he could make a run for it and leave before Sirius woke up. "I mean, Moody knows what he's talking about and you look like you could use some shut-eye."

Sirius nodded wearily and said, "Yeah, I suppose." He began walking towards the bedroom when his eyes fell on the coffee table and he stopped suddenly. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the note.

Remus glanced over his shoulder briefly before he turned back to Sirius and answered, oh-so-casually, "Oh, that... That's not important."

Sirius squinted at the note. "It has my name on it," he noted aloud.

Remus opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't think of an excuse.

He went to retrieve the message before Sirius could read it, but Sirius was faster and grabbed the note first. Remus held his breath and watched as Sirius snatched up the paper and quickly opened it, his eyes sweeping across the short message. The gist of it was: I'm leaving, I think it's for the best, I love you, and I'm sorry.

Sirius glanced up at Remus before he read the note again. Once he had finished reading the short but simple message for the second time, he looked up and asked, "What is this?"

Remus tried to think of a convincing lie or a cogent excuse – something that held off a confrontation. But he couldn't think of anything, so he looked at Sirius and shrugged helplessly.

"Remus, what is this?" Sirius repeated, anger and hurt and confusion etched onto his aristocratic features

"That, uh... It's..." Remus sighed and stared back at Sirius, wondering how to take that look off of his soon-to-be ex's face. This was why he had planned to leave before Sirius got back – to avoid a situation like the one he was currently trapped in. He didn't know what to say. His note pretty much said all that he needed to: he loved Sirius but he was leaving and he was sorry.

"What does this mean, you're leaving? Leaving to where? For how long?" Sirius asked, frustration and anger slowly creeping into his voice. "Where the fuck are you going, Remus?"

"I'm just... leaving, Sirius. I have to," he replied calmly, inwardly commending himself for managing to stay composed.

Remus watched as his message finally sunk in.

Sirius went pale. He looked like he had been punched in the stomach – like Remus's words had physically hurt him – and he collapsed onto the sofa, eyes on the note again. After a moment, he looked up at Remus mournfully and said:

"Remus, you can't just... Why?"

"I just have to," he repeated, sitting down on the armchair opposite Sirius.

"But why?" Sirius asked, his temper flaring again. "Remus, you can't... You can't just take off and not tell me where you're going! What about us? You're seriously going to give up on us?"

Remus sighed and sat back in his chair. "Sirius, we haven't been us for a long while now," he replied calmly. "We aren't good for each other. All we do is argue. We keep secrets and we avoid each other and we never spend any time together anymore because we always end up arguing. You're not happy, Sirius; and frankly, neither am I."

"It's just – It's just a rough patch," Sirius argued. "Couples go through rough patches all of the time!"

"You don't trust me, Sirius," Remus replied sadly. "You don't trust me, and I don't want to wake up one day with us resenting each other because we stayed in a relationship where there was no trust."

"I trust you," Sirius interjected, eyes wide and almost pleading.

Remus shook his head faintly. "No, you don't. You want to trust me, but you don't and it's making you miserable – it's making me miserable, and I can't do it anymore." He paused and watched Sirius for a moment. "You used to be happy, Sirius. We both used to be. But this War, it has taken so much away."

"This can't be one of the things it takes, Remus," Sirius replied. "Please don't do this. We can fix this. Whatever the problem is – we can fix it."

"Sirius, a relationship is nothing without trust. Sometimes all the love in the world is not enough to save something," he stated. "You don't trust me; and to be honest, I'm not sure I trust you. I don't trust anyone anymore, and it's getting too hard to pretend I do."

Sirius frowned. "But I love you," he replied. "That has to count for something."

Remus bit his lip and looked away.

He could feel his heart breaking in his chest. He hadn't thought it possible. He had thought it was just an expression used by writers and romantics. But here it was, happening to him. He frowned and closed his eyes, trying to halt the tears that were threatening to fall. He couldn't cry. Not now. Not in front of Sirius. Now was not the time for tears. Too many had been shed already. He had to be strong; for Sirius and for himself.

Once he was satisfied that he would not break down, he opened his eyes and looked back at Sirius.

"Remus, I love you," Sirius repeated, eyes serious and pleading. "I love you, and we can fix this."

"We can't," Remus replied. "Not right now, not with the way things are. I'm sorry, Sirius, I really am but... I-I love you, too. You know? More than words. But it's not enough. You know it as well as I do."

Sirius's frown deepened and he glared down at his feet. "I need you," he muttered, his voice so quiet that Remus had to strain to hear him. He looked up and into Remus's eyes. "Remus, I need you," he said louder.

Remus closed his eyes and took a moment to compose himself. Those words had been their stepping stone towards 'I love you.' Even now, they sometimes opted to say 'I need you' instead. Admittedly, they hadn't said either phrase so much recently but that didn't mean they didn't feel it...

He had to leave.

He had to leave before he cried, or before he gave in and stayed there with Sirius. He couldn't do either and he had to leave before he made a horrible mistake and continued to make both his and Sirius's lives miserable. He had to leave because he loved Sirius too much to continue to drag him down.

"I'm sorry," he replied, when he felt he was stable once again. He cleared his throat and opened his eyes, looking at Sirius. "I'm sorry, Sirius. But I have to go. I can't do this anymore, and I don't know how else to make things better."

With that, he stood and walked around the couch to pick his suitcase up.

Sirius's lip trembled and he stood as well, watching as the werewolf collected his bag and began making his way towards the door. His mask of indifference had slipped and Remus could see the vulnerable man underneath it. Then again, he had always been able to see behind Sirius's well-formed mask. It had always been a talent of his: seeing the real Sirius.

"Fine," Sirius barked. "If you think that this is the only option, then go. Leave."

Remus paused and turned around. It hurt, hearing Sirius tell him to go. It was irrational, because he knew that he had to go and he had fought all of Sirius's attempts to get him to stay, but it still hurt to hear the person he loved most in the world telling him to bugger off.

"Sirius..." Remus sighed and dropped his bag, eyes on Sirius. He felt utterly defeated but he needed Sirius to know. "I need you understand that I don't want to do this. I don't want to leave you or this flat, but I have to. I have to, Sirius; for you, and me, and our future. We aren't good together right now and if I stay, it will ruin us. I need you in my life, Sirius, and I need to get out of this place before I lose you altogether. Please understand that this decision wasn't an easy one to make."

For a long moment, Sirius just frowned at him. Then, before Remus knew what was happening, Sirius had latched onto him and was embracing him tightly, his arms wound around Remus's neck securely. When it was clear that Sirius wasn't going to let go anytime soon, Remus tentatively returned the hug. It had been a long time since they had touched in an affectionate way and Remus grasped onto the moment, wrapping his arms around Sirius and returning the hug properly.

"I understand, Remus," Sirius muttered into the crook of Remus's neck. "You're suffocating here and you need some time away from me but that doesn't meant that I have to like it. I love you more than anything in this world and I can't lose you. But I understand that I will if I don't let you go. So, I may not like it, but I understand it. I understand that you need some time alone. I hate that you're leaving me, but I hate it even more that you're miserable here with me. So you should go, and when you're ready, come back to me."

Remus felt tears sting his eyes again and he closed them tight, his grip on Sirius strengthening. Sirius was finally listening to him. His words were finally making it through to Sirius and he felt his knees go weak because it was actually happening. Their relationship of over three years was finally coming to an indefinite end.

The sudden realisation that he would possibly never hold Sirius like that again hit him like a ton of bricks and he buried his face into Sirius's shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent and holding on tight.

After a long moment, Sirius pulled back and cupped Remus's face between his hands, his grey eyes peering into Remus's soul. "You come back to me, alright?" he demanded softly. "I need you in my life, Remus, even if it is as only a friend."

Remus swallowed around the lump in his throat and nodded. He wasn't sure that either of them would even survive the War. And if they did, he didn't know if they'd ever build their trust up again. But they had done it once before and he had faith that they could do it again.

"I need you, too," he replied, because that was all he could say.

Reluctantly, he pulled out of the embrace and gently pushed Sirius away. Sirius took a step back and leaned against the back of the couch as Remus picked his suitcase up again.

"Where are you going to go?" Sirius asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"You don't need to know that," Remus replied, not unkindly.

"Remus... please. I need to know that you'll be safe and that you won't be on the streets."

Remus smiled bitterly. "I won't be living on the streets," he promised. "And I will be safe. I promise."

With that, he turned and walked towards the door. Just as he opened the door, Sirius said, "I love you, Moony."

Remus faltered at the nickname, one that he hadn't heard in months, and he turned back to Sirius. "Be good, Padfoot," he replied, using Sirius's moniker.

They shared a sad smile before Remus turned and walked out of the door – possibly for the last time ever. It really was for the best that Remus leave now before either of them changed their minds and Remus decided to stay or Sirius convinced him to stay.

He had to leave, to save them. Love was nothing without trust and since neither of them could trust each other, their relationship was doomed. At that moment in time, they simply could not be.

Remus closed the door and left the flat and his relationship behind.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

Written: July, 2016
Rewritten: October, 2018