They were both loaded with boxes, and Remus with anxiety. He'd never actually been on a motorbike before, despite wanting to when he was younger. He'd always thought there was something incredibly rebellious about them, they were loud, you couldn't carry a family in them, they were almost looked down upon. But really, it was just another way of transportation. And they were both carrying boxes of pastries, how dangerous could it be? They probably shouldn't have been carrying as many boxes as they were, but that was okay. What was a couple extra boxes? It would be fine. He didn't even want to ask Sirius what the laws on carrying things on motorbikes were. No, it was better to stay unaware. It wasn't like making deliveries on Sirius's bike was going to become a usual thing, so it was okay, just for one trip. He knew he was desperately trying to reassure himself. He knew that he probably didn't need to be worried at all. But there he was, worrying.

"Are you alright, Remus?" Sirius asked, trying to turn back to Remus, but instead getting caught on boxes.

"Don't turn around, you'll knock my pastries. Don't knock the pastries," Remus scolded in reply, truthfully, he didn't care if Sirius turned around, none of the pastries were particularly fragile, but he'd rather the other man not see him as he worked through the idea of being on a motorbike. They hadn't even started driving yet, but the vibration underneath him was weird, and it was even weirder being so close to Sirius. Even with the boxes between them, it felt weird. But the rest of the morning had been weird so it only made sense that this would be too. Might as well keep the theme going, he supposed.

"Ready?" Sirius asked, bringing his hand to come rest behind him on Remus's knee.

"Yeah, yeah I'm ready," Remus stuttered out his reply, increasingly glad that you need two hands to ride a motorbike because if Sirius had kept his hand there, Remus may have imploded. And not for any other reason than, it was weird to have a stranger just touch you, it was just awkward and uncomfortable, or at least it felt that way for him. Just, no.

"Alright then, let's go deliver some pastries!" Sirius exclaimed, squeezing Remus's knee slightly before letting go and then they were on their way.

It was nowhere near as bad Remus thought it was going to be. Actually, it was quite amazing, it was exhilarating and exciting and everything that he avoided. It was one of the strangest sensations that he'd ever felt, but it wasn't bad. No, none of it was bad. Quite dangerous for his pastries, yes. But bad? No, no definitely not. Maybe instead of buying a car like everyone urged him to, he should buy a motorcycle instead. He almost laughed at that thought, that would never happen. But he was going to enjoy this, right now.

"So, how'd you like it?" Sirius asked, his face was flushed and he looked a little like an excited puppy, all bright eyes and expectancy.

"Hm, it was awful, really," Remus replied, the sarcasm almost physically manifesting. "What do you think? I loved it," he said, this time dropping the sarcasm and replacing it with a grin. This time, and it was the only time he hadn't heard Sirius reply, either sincerely or with some amusing comment, this time, Sirius just grinned back and motioned towards the hall they were meant to be delivering to.

"Right, the actual delivery, not the bike," Remus said, biting his bottom lip, wishing slightly that he had something more interesting to say. The man had kept Remus company for hours, bringing up all sorts of intriguing topics, they'd had conversations about pop-punk and punk-rock, which had somehow turned into a conversation about crystals and tarot cards, Remus honestly wasn't sure how they got there. They'd had conversations about animals, about food, about weird advertising schemes, and now Remus could barely think of anything at all, only hoping that he hadn't bored Sirius half to death that morning.

Walking into the hall, piled high with boxes, Remus couldn't really see where he was going, clumsy at the best of times, he inevitably slipped and landed flat on his back. "I saved the pastries," he muttered, slightly glad that at least he knew how to protect things from being crushed by now. There'd been far too many incidents before he'd perfected the technique of I'm-going-to-fall-so-let-me-not-destroy-all-my-work-too.

"Are you okay?"

There was a girl standing above him, looking mildly concerned though he didn't know if it was directed at the box or him.

"Yes, I'm fine, thanks," he replied, standing up as quick as he could, box firmly in his hands.

"I assume you're from The Final Waltz?" she asked, looking between Sirius and him like she couldn't quite place whether they were just two random boys with boxes, or if they were actually from the bakery. To be fair, Remus did agree that they didn't look particularly baker-like, of course Sirius didn't, he wasn't even a baker.

"Yes, he is," Sirius said, smiling at her. Remus noticed he had a particular charm that he used with people he didn't know, it seemed to be distant, but also demanding attention, he didn't know who Sirius was, really, but he guessed that he was particularly good with people.

"Good. Thank you. You didn't crush any of them?" she asked, turning toward Remus, eyeing the boxes that he'd been carrying.

"I'm certain I didn't, but you're more than welcome to check if you'd like." He was more than certain that he didn't, but he understood her doubt, she hadn't seen the fall after all, only him lying on the ground.

"No, no, it's fine. Thank you. Have they already paid?"

"No, they haven't, but they've got the bank details, if they don't pay within a week I'll contact you."

"Alright then. Thank you…" she trailed off, looking curiously at Sirius, in fact she seemed to be directing most of her questions and comments toward Sirius, clearly he was a more intriguing person or something.

"Sirius," he said, "this is Remus. And you are?"

"Good to meet you Sirius," she smiled, taking the boxes out of their arms, "and you Remus. I'm Anna. Thank you for the pastries."

"No problem Anna, I hope the Gala goes well," Remus said, waving an awkward goodbye before turning to leave.

"Goodbye Anna!" Sirius called, turning to walk with Remus, quietly grasping Remus's hand and letting it fall between them as they walked out.

"Why? What? I don't know —"

"You alright?" Sirius asked Remus, cutting him off, though it wouldn't have made a difference because he was currently unable to talk. Why was Sirius holding his hand? He didn't know. He was a pretty tactile person, but he probably wouldn't have even have held James's hand, who he was undoubtedly closest too, and certainly closer to than this person who he hadn't even known for twelve hours!

"Hand?" he managed to stutter out, and still he hadn't removed his hand, it wasn't like he didn't like it, but what was Sirius doing?

"Oh, sorry darling. Not a touchy-feely person, then?" And with that he slipped his hand away again, leaving Remus's much colder than before.

"No, I, uh, just surprised. I definitely am," he chuckled a little at that, all the times James had told him that he was crazy for just snuggling into him, "Ask James or Peter, they'll tell you."

"Oh, well great then," Sirius said, flinging an arm around Remus's shoulders. "Now, what do you say we go for a walk before you go back?" he asked, somewhat nervously, Remus thought, there was something different in his tone.

"I can't, I'm sorry. I really do have to get back, it's almost Christmas and we really do have too many orders to skip a day."

"I thought you might say that. What do you say if I ask Dorcas if it'll matter?" Sirius suggested, his eyebrows raised.

"Sorry Sirius, but no. I can't. She'll say yes, but then we'll end up behind. We can't end up behind now. Maybe some other time?" he suggested, though he immediately wished he hadn't said anything because how was he to know if they were going to see each other again? Sirius might just leave and look back on it as a memory of *wow, that was incredibly weird and strange. A bakery full of slightly insane people*.

"Alright then, maybe some other time," Sirius agreed, grinning slightly as he nodded. "Well, if we're not going for a walk, best we get back then?"

"Sure."

And once again, Remus was surprised by just how much he enjoyed the ride. This time though, it was even stranger, because he was now pressed right up against Sirius, no boxes to separate them, but instead Remus with his arms wrapped around Sirius's waist and the urge to lean against him. The ride was just as exhilarating and exciting as it was before. It was everything, everything that Remus generally stayed away from, it was everything that he'd never really craved before, but now, now maybe he would. He could imagine wanting the feeling again, wanting to feel the same excitement, the breathtaking thrill. Maybe he was making too much of it, he thought as they sped down the road, but there was something that was so very, very amazing about it all.

They got back to the bakery, Remus handing the helmet back to Sirius with the biggest grin he'd had for months. "So, you really do love it then?" Sirius asked, laughing a little.

"It's one of the best things I've ever done."

"Good to hear, good to hear. It's my favourite thing to do. At first I only got it because my parents wanted me to get a car, and I just wanted to get away from their expectations. So I bought a motorcycle. She's my favourite thing in the world pretty much," he said, taking off his own helmet.

"They had a lot of expectations?"

"Yeah, yeah," he replied, no indication of whether he was going to talk about it more or not.

"They're not your favourite thing in the world, I'm guessing?" Remus asked, it didn't sound like they were, judging by the boy's tone. Sirius only laughed in response, a quick shake of his head being all that Remus got as a reply.

Remus smiled at Sirius's lack of reply, guessing what it meant and then wove through the customers to the door that separated the kitchen from the shop. "Coming?"

"Of course." They'd only just stepped into the room when James came walking towards Remus, completely ignoring Sirius who had gone over to look at a tray of cupcakes. Remus didn't know what was going on, but it can't have been anything good, maybe something happened with Lily? He wasn't sure, only sure that no one could miss the hurt in James's eyes.

"Remus! Did you need the painkillers?" James asked, his voice low and deep, but not low enough for Remus to be comfortable, as he made known with a hurried, "shhh". "Oh fuck it, I'm not shushing right now. You can't keep doing this, Remus! Did you need the painkillers, because there was a bottle on your bench, and you don't normally leave them out unless you've taken them. Did you?"

"James, please, just wait." Turning to Sirius, he bit his lip, "can you just go into the shop for a minute? Dorcas is out there, as is Pete, they'll give you a cake and some tea or coffee or something, just go."

"Alright Remus, I need to leave properly soon anyway."

"Of course, yeah. Then ask them to pack something up for you. They'll give you some stuff. Take care, Sirius."

"Okay Remus. You too."

Both James and Remus watched as Sirius left the room, Remus hurriedly walking over to lock the door. There was a time when he would have walked out, or stood by the door, waiting for a chance to escape, but there was no point now. He knew that James would find him some way or another, and he'd be forced to talk all the same.

"Did you take them? Rem, Moony, you're great and you're amazing, but you can't keep doing this. I know you put off taking them until you absolutely have to, so when you do, you need to go home. Did you take them?"

"James, it do—"

"No, Lupin! It does matter, okay? It matters quite a lot. In fact, it matters so fucking much that I'm going to explode if you keep doing this. Did you take them? Or were you going to? You need to tell me. So enough with the protests, enough with the avoiding questions. Enough, enough. Just enough of all of it!" James said in a furious whisper. He always was the mother hen of the group, Remus knew. People expected it to be Peter, friendly, funny Peter, but they couldn't be more wrong. Some people thought it could be Dorcas or Marlene, but that must have just been because they were girls, Remus thought, because that absolutely wasn't right either. No, it was definitely James. It always had been, and it always would be.

"Don't call me Lupin, okay? Thanks. Yes, I took them. Yes, I'm in so much pain that I wish it were something else so I could just go to the hospital and they could do something. But it's not, and they can't, so what's the point of telling anyone because no one can do anything about it! Come on James, what am I supposed to do?"

"You're supposed to let me know, Rem. Mate, I love you, I honestly, honestly do and I know you hate telling me this stuff, but can you please? For me? Just give it a shot, Rem. Please."

"It won't make any difference, and I hate bothering you. Honestly, there's nothing you can do, so why do you want to know?"

"Because I want to know how you are. I want to know you. You're my best friend, come on, just try."
"Fine, fine. I don't care, James. Just next time don't go talking about it in front of other people. Please? It's not something anyone else needs to know. Too many people know already. Okay?"

"Alright Rem, if that's the deal then I'll take it."
"I don't know if I should thank you or walk out," he said, sitting down on the ground, his head falling forwards into his hands.

"Neither. But I've got to unlock the door now, so you can stay there if you want, or you can stand up, 'kay?" James replied, walking over to the door and Remus heard the familiar click of the lock unlocking. He'd decided to stay on the floor, not really able to summon the energy to do anything else.

"Why'd you lock the door?"

"Everything okay?"

Remus could hear everyone asking James questions, and probably him too, but it took far too much out of him to even think coherently, let alone lift his head and talk to them properly. The room seemed to be spinning out of control and his breath wasn't really there as much as he'd have liked it to be. He knew he was shaking, and he knew that in just a second or two, he wanted to scream because his anxiety would be eating him from the inside out. And he didn't need anything else destroying him, the illness was doing that well enough on its own. He could hear everyone, he could hear everyone clearly, but he couldn't answer. He couldn't even move. It was like something was compressing him together, not allowing him to move or breathe or even think out of the little box he was confined to. *What if. What if. What if* just running through his head, over and over and over again. He felt like he was going to throw up, he felt like he wanted to get out, he felt like he wanted to break out of his own skin, he felt like he wanted to scream, to cry. He felt so much, and yet he couldn't do anything. So he sat and waited. It was the only thing that ever ended up working.

Eventually the loudness stopped, eventually he could move and speak and remember his own body and mind. But things were never quite right after a panic attack, his brain was slow, not reacting quick enough or going the opposite way and reacting too much. He was always a mess afterwards. He hated it, he hated it, he hated it. Slowly, slowly he stood up and managed a weak smile before walking over to his bench and pulling out the ingredients to make bread. They needed more, and it was a comforting thing to make, nothing difficult about it, only memory and repetition. "No Rem, come on mate, I think it's time you go home."

"Peter, I appreciate it, but no."

"No Remus, he's right, you can't just go back to work as a way to ignore it. You have to take time for yourself. Go home, have a shower. We'll be fine. We'll be fine."

"Dorcas, come on. We have Christmas orders. It's only, what? Half past eleven? I can't leave now. What on earth would I do?"

"Go home Remus," Peter repeated, placing a hand on Remus's shoulder, only to have it shaken off again.

"Fine, if that's what you want me to do. I can see none of you are going to stop with this, so fine," he agreed, but not happily. He all but tore his apron off, hanging it up more aggressively than anyone had probably seen him since they were in school. He was walking, no, striding over to the door when it was opened by none other than Sirius. "Oh fantastic. I thought you left?"

"Darling, what are you saying?" Sirius replied, somewhat dangerously and for the first time, Remus noticed his eyes.

"*Darling*, I'm not saying anything other than the words that left my mouth. Do you need food to take with you?" Remus asked, keeping his tone even and firm as was a specialty of his.

"Yes, you are. But clearly, something has happened, something big because it looks as if you're leaving. Dorcas and Peter have kindly already given me food, so I came to say goodbye and thank you. However, if you're leaving, do you need a lift?"

"No, I do not," Remus replied as James said, "yes, he does."

"Which is it then? I'm going to go with yes, because it seems James is in a better frame of mind than you are, so off we go then?"

"Fine."

"So, at the beginning of the morning, you said that I could call you whatever the fuck I wanted to because I'd seen you frustrated. Are you telling me that it's uncommon to see you frustrated?" Sirius asked as the two of them pulled on helmets and swung themselves onto the bike.

"Apparently not anymore."

"Apparently not? Well, I'll be asking James of his opinion."

"Don't tell me you've got James's number?"

"I've got everyone's number except yours."
"Well, it's staying like that."

"I know. Now, let's go," Sirius said. Three seconds later they were down the road and again Remus was feeling the reckless exhilaration that he'd only ever felt today, and yet, it was the third time today that he'd felt it, but this time the exhilaration was strewn with panic rather than joy, and his previous strange-but-comfortable feeling of his arms around Sirius had vanished and it was all just strange now. It was all just so strange. All so strange.

"Remus, I don't actually know your address," Sirius stated as they were stopped in front of a red light.

"Oh god, of course you don't. Can you do me a favour though?"

"Depends. What is it?"

"Drop me at the bus stop that's on the corner of the next road. Please?" Remus asked, his voice was surprisingly under control, he was impressed. He needed the bus trip, he needed to be alone, just for a little while, so he could get his head together. He hated being trapped at home when he was so anxious, it was best to take the bus trip and try breathe it out before he was stuck in the one place.

"You'll be safe?" Sirius asked, turning around slightly, his eyes seeking out Remus's.

"Why wouldn't I be safe? Yes, I'll be safe," Remus promised, not quite sure why Sirius was worried about his safety, but that was a question for another time, and definitely not for when the lights were just about to turn green.

With a nod, Sirius started driving again, and Remus enjoyed the last minute of being on the bike before Sirius pulled over. Swinging himself off the bike, he unclipped the helmet, and handed it over to Sirius with a grateful smile. "See you, Remus. It's be a morning I'll not forget," Sirius said, his long fingers — they were perfect for playing piano — tapping along his knee.

"Mhm, it's definitely been interesting. Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. See you around."

As Sirius drove off, Remus offered a small wave, one quickly returned by Sirius before he was down the road and Remus was alone and hoping the bus would be there soon.

It wasn't unusual for James and Remus to have arguments. It definitely wasn't unusual for them to fight about Remus not telling him when Things with a capital T were bad. But every single time, Remus felt shit afterwards. He hated telling James, or anyone, when Things were bad, but he wasn't too keen fighting either. He never could decide what the better option was. It was a cycle they followed every so often, one that neither of them really liked, Remus knew, but even that didn't make it any easier to tell him. He knew that it'd all need to change at some point, but he was nineteen, he'd been diagnosed just over a year ago now. And it wasn't getting any easier.

It was getting colder, and it was probably going to rain soon, he noted, shuffling further under the bus shelter, running his hand through the light brown mess of hair. He needed a haircut, but honestly, he couldn't be bothered. It was just hair after all, how much did it matter? Probably a lot, but it wasn't like as a baker, he saw a huge amount of people. Generally he was just behind the scenes, he wasn't usually the one to be at the till, or go around serving people. So how much did hair really matter?

Sure enough, the bus came late, as this particular bus was bound to do, and sure enough, as soon as he jumped aboard, the rain started pouring down. Hopefully, his apartment would stay together, or at least the leaks stay to one spot. However worrying that was, the rhythm of the bus soon had his head lost somewhere in space, ignoring the day, avoiding the pain, dismissing the leaks. Earphones in and listening to Green Day — his guilty pleasure — he was determined to ignore everything he was determined to do. And the bus trip home was almost okay.