Peter's legs feel numb as he slowly walks into the familiar room of the Dark Lord. The air is somehow colder than outside and he shivers slightly underneath his robes.

He hates these moments – when he has to update Voldemort on the movements of the Potters and the Order- but he knows there's no way around them. He can't very well just send off a letter with his findings, that would just be begging the Order to discover that he was a spy, though Peter doubts Voldemort would let him anyway. The man always seems to derive a sick pleasure from seeing the animagus' terror, which just makes the short man even more afraid. He doesn't have friends to hide behind here and, not for the first time, he wishes he could find the Gryffindor courage that he never actually seemed to possess.

"My Lord…" Peter whispers, swiftly dropping into a bow as he nears the back of the chair that the man in question is settled into, his hands beginning to sweat despite the chill in the air, "I have come to make my report on the Order and the Potters."
There's a hum of recognition that comes from the chair following his words, but the man doesn't appear to believe Peter to be important enough to turn and look at. Had it been anyone else, Peter thinks he might be offended by the blatant insult. In this case, though, he hates the Dark Lord's attention more than he despises being overlooked.

"They still have no suspicions that I am the spy. Suspicions have turned to another and the Potters seem to want Black as their secret keeper."

Another grunt of confirmation comes from the chair and Peter sends a longing look towards the fireplace blazing just out of reach. When Peter first turned sides he may have wondered how such a strong fire could fail to even slightly warm the room but now he knows better. Voldemort just has that effect.

"Dumbledore is trying to get them to use him, but-…."

Peter is interrupted as muffled voices sound right outside the closed doors and the rat animagus levels them with a confused look.

"Ah, yes. Greyback is due to arrive to also report."

Peter instinctively freezes at the careless words of his Lord and, even though he knows Voldemort cannot see him, he regards the back of his chair with a pleading glance. If there is anyone that scared the small man more than Voldemort himself, it's Greyback. The werewolf is too animalistic and violent for the ex-Marauder, and Peter wants nothing more than to shift into his rat form and hide. He can't stand the thought of sharing the room with the two people he fears the most.

However, he is a man of sin and, thus, luck is far from his side. It is merely a moment later that the doors are pulled open and two forms appear in the doorway.

For a minute the figures are too cloaked in shadows for Peter to determine precisely who they are, though he is already clued in that one is Greyback. The man beside him appears to be tall, lanky, and is listening to the other man chatter. He looks vaguely familiar, but Peter can't determine where he's seen him.

As they near Peter timidly steps away from them, his gaze latching onto the unnamed man with his hood still up in a desperate attempt to avoid Greyback's attention.

"My Lord," Comes Greyback's rumbling voice as he stops feet from the back of Voldemort's chair. He appears content to ignore Peter for the moment and he isn't inclined to complain, "I have come with news concerning the werewolf packs."

Voldemort actually turns when Greyback speaks and, despite himself, Peter feels a tad bit miffed.

The werewolf and the master continue to converse but Peter, still rather upset at being so rudely interrupted, opts against listening. It isn't as though the packs matter to him anyway. He isn't a part of the Death Eater group because he actually believes in their ideals, but instead because he preferred to have a stake in both sides. Some call his double agent actions traitorous, but Peter merely thinks of them as being rational. A war always results in one side getting demolished and the rat animagus isn't naïve enough to believe that his original side is winning.

He frowns slightly at his thoughts, the images of his friends grinning faces flashing through his mind causing him to feel sick. A picture of one individual in particular lingers and, without meaning to, Peter finds himself staring once more at the quiet man at Greyback's side.

The tall stranger also seems to be ignoring the conversation between the men, Peter realizes, and has instead taken to staring at him.

The shadows of his hood still obscure his features from view, but his body language screams shock. He can't imagine why, though, and he's just about to roll his eyes and look away when a particularly strong flicker of light from the flames highlights familiar green eyes and Peter finds his stomach suddenly dropping to his feet.

"Remus…" The name escapes him in a whisper without his meaning to and, just like that both the Dark Lord and Greyback are staring at them.

"You know'im?" Greyback inquires, his attention drifting suspiciously from Peter to the tense looking Remus beside him.

Numbly, Peter nods.

He's seen me, Peter mentally screams, he's seen me and now he knows that I'm the spy.

"He's a member of the Order."

Remus' head whips from Greyback to Peter so fast that his hood slips down just enough to reveal the look of betrayal now marring his scarred face.

I'm sorry, Peter thinks shyly, but I can't afford to have you turn me in.

What happens from there occurs so swiftly that Peter can barely process it. As soon as Remus recovers from the shock of being discovered as a spy, he's sprinting out of the room with Greyback on his tail. Voldemort, in turn, watches in faint amusement.

There's no way Remus can escape, he's too far in Death Eater territory to be able to flee without being caught, and Peter's legs feel like lead as he slowly forces himself to walk to the doorway. A small part of him wants to see what his actions have caused his friend, the friend that he favors in a way he knows he has no right to.

He makes it outside just in time to watch a silver wolf patronus slip right past him. He knows that patronus anywhere – he was there the first time his friend managed to cast it- and, out of instinct, he sends a spell towards it.

He can't let the wolf get to the Order, he can't let Remus notify them about Peter.

The wolf stumbles with the force of the attack, it's shimmery body fading substantially, though it manages to continue on regardless and Peter lets it.

It's fine now, he thinks, that modification spell should have damaged the original message enough to ensure his name stayed out it. Ironically enough, that was a spell that Remus himself had taught Peter only months before. It was only for extremely bad circumstances, the werewolf had explained, and Peter thinks that, for him, this was about as bad a situation as he can be in.

"You've been naughty, pup." Greyback growls, and Peter turns just in time to watch the cruel werewolf pin a beaten up Remus to the ground, "You're gonna regret it."
Peter barely manages to jerk his head away to avoid witnessing the action that causes a sickening crack to reverberate through the area.

xxxxxxxxxx

"I really didn't want to do this…" Peter whispers, his eyes downcast as he speaks to the imprisoned man on the floor, "If you didn't come here… If you didn't see us then I wouldn't have had to turn you in

"Forgive me if I'm not in a particularly understanding mood." Remus drawls dryly, eyes glaring at the shorter man. He's bound by the ankles and wrists to the wall behind him and his body is a multitude of colors from the beatings he has taken so far. Taking that into consideration, he muses that Remus' poor mood isn't completely unfounded.

They're also in one of the darkest and dampest dungeons Peter has seen.

"You weren't supposed to find out…."

He's repeating himself, he knows it, but the glint of sheer hatred in Remus' eyes makes Peter struggle to collect his thoughts.

"After this all blew over it was supposed to be just you and me. We'd be everything for each other, with James gone and Black no doubt following close behind out of want for revenge. We were going to be together – I love you, Remus. You were the one that was supposed to be safe."

"I'm with Sirius, you know that, Peter."
Peter's face scrunches up at the name of their mutual friend,

"Of course… It's always Black. Everything's always about Black and Potter." He scoffs, "Didn't you ever get tired of that in school, Remus? Constantly being their plus ones? We weren't the Marauders, not really. It was James and Sirius and then the two lads that hung around with them. People never really saw us for us, Remus, but here, here we can be ourselves. They're going to win, Remus, they are. It's not too late to join the winning side."

Remus adverts his gaze at the comment pertaining to the war, his voice low when he responds,

"My loyalties lie on the side that I believe is the most just, Peter, not with the side that I think will ultimately win. I suppose I thought the same would stand for you."

"You don't understand, Remus," The rat animagus pleads, though there is no trace of regret in his tone, "You haven't seen them like I have. You've been around Greyback, maybe, but he's not the worst of them. The Dark Lord he – he's incredibly powerful and merciless, you have to see where I'm coming from, Moony."

The werewolf visibly flinches at the use of the nickname and Peter feels his heart sink as Remus' gaze meets his once again, although this time his light eyes shine dangerously,

"Don't call me that," He all but growls and, despite the fact that Remus is chained up, Peter finds himself retreating backwards several paces, "That name is exclusively for my friends. For James and for Sirius who would have died before they betrayed you or I… And I as well, for you and for them."

The words cut like a knife across Peter's already wounded ego and he blinks owlishly at the detained man that has once more turned his attention down to the floor,

"Y-you would have died for me, Remus?"

The bound man scoffs at the question,

"Without a moment's hesitation. I would have died for any one of my friends."

Peter finds himself holding his breath,

"And now…?"

Remus' tone is colder than the shorter man has ever heard it,

"I would hardly count you as my friend now. Quite frankly, I don't even know who you are anymore, Pettigrew."

It was incredible how badly rejection always burned.

xxxxxxxxxx

"They think you're the spy, you know."

Remus freezes at that, but he refuses to remove his eyes from the dirty spot on the floor that they have focused on. He doesn't seem to want to give the other man the privilege of his attention.

"They know there's a spy among them, and they think it's you." Peter offers, stepping slowly closer to the man, "Sirius was the one that brought it up first, actually. Not exactly a great boyfriend move."
Remus says nothing to his taunts and Peter, wanting more, decides to poke the imprisoned wolf even harder,

"They think you've joined the werewolves for good – Think you joined their lot and turned. I didn't believe them, of course, but I suppose that's because I knew a lot more than they did. I know you would never turn on them, Rem. They don't deserve your loyalty."

And neither do you.

The unspoken words linger in the air between the two men – the past best friends – and Peter finds his hopeful expression falling into a frown at Remus' lack of response.

"They think that a dark creature will turn on them no problem. Sirius said so himself."

Remus visibly flinches at that, and Peter inwardly pats himself on the back at the lie. Where Sirius and James had bonded like peas in a pod he and Remus, the disposables, forged a strong bond of their own. He knows all of the werewolf's biggest insecurities and has no qualms with using them against him now, not if it will allow the other to see reason.

Seeing Remus hurt because of Black isn't so bad either, he thinks, Sirius always gets what he wants. It's high time Peter gets what he wants too.

"Why are you doing this?"

Remus' voice is low and gravelly and it takes Peter by surprise for a moment, but only a moment.

"Doing what?" He's playing dumb, craving Remus' voice to last longer. When Remus gets on a topic he feels passionate about he talks actively, his gentle voice soothing in a way that makes it terribly addicting. He needs his fix, even if it's in the form of deepest contempt.

"We were your friends." Remus pulls vaguely at the chains that keep him tethered to the wall like the monster he always feared he was, "And you turned on us just like that. Why? What did we ever do to you?"

Peter already has an answer to that,

"You?" He smiles, "You never did anything, Moony, and I guess that's partly the problem."

He knows his answer doesn't actually make sense to anyone but himself, and he doesn't exactly care. Moony never noticed Peter's earnest attempts to gain his attention, nor did he notice how actively Sirius pined for him, that is, until the moment he did and they got together. Peter though, Remus never noticed his silent advances, never wanted to, and that hurt in a way Peter could never explain.

"Sirius always got what he wanted, didn't he?" The rat voices idly, not actually expecting an answer as he steps close enough to see the pain glistening in green eyes, "The girls, the grades, James, and, in the end, in a much more intimate way than anyone else, you."

It's clear that Remus doesn't know what to make of that, and Peter finds no desire to ease the look of confusion clouding Remus' face.

"Well, at the very least I can make sure he never gets you back."

Xxxxxx

Weeks pass before Peter has the chance to visit Remus again. He's been too busy with reporting to Voldemort and attending the increasing Order meetings.

Remus is missing, it's the key topic at every meeting as they strive to search for him. Apparently they had received a faded patronus from him, though, due to what they could only perceive to be a magical interruption, the wolf was unable to deliver the entire message. Instead it merely passed on that Remus was in danger and that he had discovered the identity of the spy. Unfortunately, the name of the spy had been lost, leaving everyone to regard one another even more warily than before.

Remus had been the perfect scapegoat for being the traitor – after all, it was so much easier to think that a dark creature finally got corrupted than a normal, good human. Now, though, Remus was gone and information was still getting leaked. Peter feels a silent pride at the ashamed looks Sirius and James wear on their faces when they realize they had doubted Remus for no reason at all.

Good, he thinks, they don't trust him as much as they should. He deserves better than that.

"We're afraid he was caught while undercover in Greyback's werewolf pack." Dumbledore informs them solemnly after the second week passes without any sign of Remus, "Unfortunately, his outlook is now bleak."

Peter barely bites back a grin as he watches how pale Sirius turns at the news. His usually handsome features are subdued by the dark bags under his eyes and the deep frown that seems to constantly mar his features recently.

Apparently Remus' absence has taken its toll on him, and Peter couldn't be happier.

"You can't just give up!" Sirius growls at Dumbledore, showing more defiance to the old man than anyone Peter has ever seen, "You can't just leave him to them! He didn't want to be there in the first place! He only went because you wanted him to!"

Peter watches as Dumbledore adverts his eyes, playing the part of a parent who had inadvertently hurt their child, but Peter can tell it's not that deep. Remus was the perfect spy for the werewolves – the one dark creature that was posing a particularly large threat to their cause – and that meant that he was out a valuable spy.

Peter thinks that he really doesn't like Dumbledore so much either.

Xxxxxxxxx

"They're still looking for you, you know." Peter says conversationally one day, his back leaning absently against the inside bars of Remus' cage as he speaks, "Dumbledore misses having a werewolf spy, I think, and Sirius looks like he's about to keel over from stress. 'Guess he really cares after all."

He ventures a look at Remus and feels his stomach drop at the sight. Peter's seen Remus in all different states of hurt and discomfort, has seen him look so sick he had mused that one particularly hard gust of wind might knock the lad over, but none of those experiences were anything like how Remus looks now.

His shirt was lost long ago and his pants are so dirty and ripped that Peter can see traces of bruised skin beneath the tattered fabric. The death eaters have been attempting to pry information from him, trying to figure out what he's told Dumbledore and other information that Peter wouldn't be privy to. He's aware that torture has been enacted in an attempt to force the information from the werewolf and Peter tries his best to avoid learning just what it is that that torture entails.

His chest is littered with even more cuts and bruises, as are his arms. His face sports gashes and reddened patches, no doubt from slapping, and his slightly parted lips are cut. Uneven gasps escape his heaving form and Peter muses that he might have a broken rib or two. His face looks hollow from weeks of little food and his eyes are shut tight in pain.

Peter never wanted this for Remus. In fact, he would have much rather watched Sirius endure this fate, would have enjoyed it, he thinks. He would rather watch this happen to anyone other than Remus, but the man always did have the unluckiest fate.

A part of Peter wants to help the other, he loves him after all, but Peter, cowardly Peter, has always had the healthiest sense of self-preservation out of the group. He wasn't and still isn't the type to blindly sacrifice himself for others, not even for true love. He won't risk healing Remus and getting punished himself for the act.

They're trying to get him to break over time, Peter's pretty sure. They've spent weeks engaging in all different types of torture, but the ever loyal wolf just won't spill. Even now his eyes still light up with defiance in the face of the Death Eaters, though Remus has long since attempted to engage in a conversation with anyone save for Peter every once in a while.

Peter loves Remus for his selflessness and his unfaltering kindness, and yet he hates that about him. They were traits that Peter always wished he possessed, and he thinks that that may be what inspired his attraction in the first place. Remus was everything Peter desired and yet everything he hated.

It's clear Remus isn't going to respond to him today, so, with an idle shrug and a passive glance at the huddled form of Remus, Peter says,

"Can't see what you see in Black. He's not so great."

But you are.

Xxxxxxx

"I knew you were resilient, Moony, but you might as well just take the piss already. It's been four weeks, you know."

Peter speaks nonchalantly from his relaxed position on the floor, his shoulders resting against the stone a few feet away from where Remus is slumped. Moony's eyes are open this time and staring almost unseeingly at Peter. They're bloodshot and terribly unfocused and it's with great restraint that Peter doesn't move closer to offer him a warm embrace in comfort.

There's a small pack of chocolate resting inches from Remus' bare foot, and Peter knows Remus is mostly staring at him in suspicion.

"It's pretty good," Peter supplies in way of Remus' silence, opting to lean over and snap off a bit of the candy before plopping it into his own mouth to show that it's safe, "I remember it's your favorite."

Remus, still appearing uncertain, though apparently swayed by Peter eating a bit of it, slowly brings a piece up to his mouth to nibble. He looks positively awful, and his right leg is in an angle that he knows is terribly unnatural. It's been a month and Remus still hasn't broken his streak of silence, though Peter doesn't much care. If he supplies information pertaining to the Order or not doesn't really matter to him.

In fact, he has grown to enjoy having Remus imprisoned here, where he can see him whenever he likes without having to bear Black's company.

"Why?"

The word is vague and hoarse, but Peter's grown used to Remus' chipped sentences by now. Screaming in pain could deter anyone from talking too much, especially the quiet types like Remus.

"I never wanted this for you." Peter repeats what he told Remus all those weeks ago, his gaze moving to stare blankly at his hands, "Quite frankly you were the one I wanted to survive."

Green eyes narrow at the response, but Remus continues to carefully and slowly consume the chocolate. Peter figures it's to avoid upsetting his stomach, which has been mostly empty the past month, and Peter beams inwardly.

Being the sole source of light to someone in a dark situation was a good way to get them to like you, Peter had seen as much in an old muggle film. Apparently the muggles call it Stockholm Syndrome or some such rubbish, Peter doesn't really care about the specifics. He does, however, care about how to get Remus to like him back in the way he only ever seemed to like Sirius. Perhaps if he could get Remus to love him he could convince him to tell Voldemort everything he knew and, then, he could properly join their side.

Once Remus joins their side it will be fine, he assures himself as he watches the hunched, vulnerable form of his friend. He'll be free to leave once the Dark Lord learns of his change of heart and then Peter could nurse him back to health. Remus will be so thankful that he'll finally realize that Peter was the best choice. After all, it wasn't Black that rescued him after weeks of hell, but instead Wormtail, the man that loved and appreciated him above all.

"Thank you…" Remus says so softly with a slight glance in Peter's direction and the shorter man feels himself swell up with pride.

"Of course, Moony, I'm here for you."

One day you'll be here for me, too, I know it, Moony. You'll see.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"So it's Lupin that was taken, was it?"

Peter nearly jumps at the sudden voice as he exits the dungeons, head whirling around to regard Snape in irritation.

"It was."

Snape hums at the confirmation from his leaning position on the wall, his arms crossed and chin raised in a 'holier than thou' manner.

Peter hates him too.

"I always knew you had a disgusting attraction to him, though I never would have thought you capable of witnessing his decline so idly."

Peter isn't sure how to respond to that. He knows he and Snape are similar in one key way – they both love an individual who was stolen from them unfairly. Surely he would understand why he was doing what he was.

"He'll come around. Once he loves me he'll see that I'm right."

The long haired man actually snorts at that and Peter feels his face flush in indignation despite himself.

"You believe allowing him to be tortured and imprisoned will pull you into his favor?"

"He'll see that I'm right, given enough time."

"You're a fool, but I suppose that's nothing new."

Peter feels a rage boil in his chest at that comment and he levels a glare at the outrageously relaxed man.

"You'd do the same thing if that was Lily in there."

This time Snape seems to have the decency to appear offended by the accusation and his next words are colder than usual,

"If that was Lily in there I wouldn't let them lay a finger on her. Unlike you I care about my love."

"I love Remus."

"You love the idea of him."

Peter doesn't respond.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"I love Sirius."

The soft proclamation is spoken two months into Remus' imprisonment, with a weak hand on Peter's chest and a slightly fearful glint in green eyes. Peter's face is mere inches from Remus', but they had only moments ago been touching the werewolf's chapped lips.

He's been visiting Remus every day for weeks, sneaking in chocolates and other foods to get Remus to warm up to him, and it has worked, to a degree.

Within two weeks Remus had begun to speak to him again, no longer as wary about accepting his treats, and Peter thinks the other man is beginning to love him.

That is, until Peter finally works up the nerve to kiss him and he's denied so pointedly.

"He's not here." Peter murmurs, ignoring the stab of pain in his heart as he kisses Remus again, harder this time, only for the other to duck his head seconds later to once again break the kiss.

"Peter, please…" Remus' tone is pleading and Peter feels anger boil his veins. Even after he was so kind to the imprisoned man he still denied him. Even after his so called lover had allowed him to suffer in this prison for two months he still proved loyal.

"I thought you were the smart one, Remus."
Peter shoves the other man away in anger and watches with an edge of satisfaction as Remus slams painfully into the wall behind him. If Remus doesn't want him, he won't force him, he's above that.

But that didn't mean that he was happy, if anything Peter doesn't think he's ever felt so livid.

He was always a throwaway, a joke, a mess, and a coward. Remus is the only one that ever convinced him otherwise, but yet even he did not actually want him.

"What does he have that I don't?" Peter demands, his fists clenching to his sides as he watches Remus slowly pull himself back up to lean against the wall, "What the hell does Black have that I never did?!"

Remus' eyes are dull as they focus on him, yet his response is stronger than it has any right to be,

"Loyalty."

Peter grits his teeth at the painfully honest response and he immediately turns on his heel and storms out.

That's quite enough of that, he thinks. He's obviously not getting anywhere with his friend today. He was too delirious to see reason, he was sure. Maybe tomorrow he'd be more agreeable.

Peter was always good at fooling himself.

Xxxxxxxx

When the Order stages a full out attack on the Death Eater camp they're positioned in, everything seems like it happens so fast despite the fact that it actually takes an entire night.

Dumbledore planned his actions carefully, taking even Voldemort by surprise, and that was that. The headmaster himself had taken on the Dark Lord and had, despite the odds, come out alive. He took down Voldemort and, after he fell, it wasn't long before the Death Eaters were overwhelmed. The Dark Lord was always their trump card, after all, and without him, they were too weak to pose a real threat.

He's hiding when he's found first, by James, and the look of sheer devastation in his brown eyes almost makes Peter regret his decision to betray them. Almost.

"Why would you do this?" James asks him later, as he's being led away in cuffs by Aurors, "How could you sit in all those meetings and lie to us?"

Peter smiles mirthlessly and shrugs, "The same way you always lied and said that we were equals. You never saw me as the same as you and Sirius, James. You lied to me too."
The wild-haired male flinches at the accusation, but doesn't refute it even though a part of Peter wishes he would.

"You knew Remus was here all along." James instead takes to whispering, his attention shifting to focus on where the werewolf currently sits with Sirius. Peter stares with his past friend, silently irritated by how close the two men are.

Remus is all but balled up on Sirius' lap on the floor and the dog animagus has his arms wrapped so tightly around him that Peter wonders how he can breathe. Sirius's expression is murderous when the healers come over to try and take the hurt man and, even from their considerable distance, he can see the loving smile Remus directs towards his boyfriend.

They're reunited, Peter drawls to himself, how sweet.

"You never told us he was here. You let him suffer for three months."

Peter forces himself to turn back to James after he receives a particularly enraged look from Sirius, who notices his staring, and he merely offers James another shrug.

"I love him and I thought I could make him love me too."

"You're sick."

Well, there's no point arguing there.

"Sirius was going to make you our secret keeper. You would have just handed us over like you had Remus, wouldn't you?"
The Aurors begin to lead him away now, and James follows in anger.

"Rats have a good survival sense, you know. Better than stags and dogs, even wolves. I would have done whatever it took to survive."
James sneers at him then and walks away without another word. It hurts a bit more than he expects it to.

Without meaning to Peter lets his attention fall back to Remus as he walks. The man is being attended to by a Healer and the rat animagus feels empty as he watches Sirius kiss his temple gently. Remus doesn't pull away from his affections. Doesn't look as though he's been burned when Sirius touches him.

One day he'll realize we're meant to be, Peter reassures himself as he's taken to Azkaban, One day he'll figure it out and I'll be waiting. I'll always be waiting.