Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and the Marauders belongs to JKR and the Warner Brothers…and maybe other people I don't know about as well, but definitely not to me. I just like playing with the characters a bit.
I can choose to accelerate my disease to an alcoholic death or incurable insanity,
or I can choose to live within my thoroughly human condition.
(Mercedes McCambridge)
REMUS:
"Moony?"
Remus turned from where he was curled up on the wide common room windowsill staring up at the three-quarters-full moon and gave James a strained smile.
"You alright, mate?" his friend asked, eying Remus with concern.
Remus pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them to give James room to sit beside him. "Yes, I suppose so."
"No you're not. 'Course you're not." James pulled himself up onto the windowsill, legs dangled over the edge and his back to the glass. The common room was deathly quiet without the usual rowdy hoard of Gryffindors. Remus, Peter and James rattled round in Gryffindor Tower like dried peas in a tin, and Remus couldn't help but wish that the summer holidays would end so that everything could go back to normal.
James was silent for a long moment, then sighed and ran his hands through his messy hair. "It's been a week and a half now. You know, I thought that once we had him rescued and he was in the Hospital Wing everything would be fine. I mean, I knew he would be injured, but I didn't know he would…" James trailed off and gave his hair a frustrated tug. "I mean, you didn't come back half insane and afraid of the dark in second year."
Remus hated the implication that Sirius was weak - especially that he was weaker than Remus, when Remus knew for a fact it was the other way around. "Yes I did," he said, his voice uncharacteristically hard. "Before that time there was never post-moon Moony. My mind cracked and the wolf slotted himself into the gap so it couldn't heal. Some things leave permanent scars, Prongs – and not just physical ones. And I may not have been afraid of the dark, but I came back utterly terrified of silver, and the Ministry, and of being touched, and of myself."
James reached out and put a tentative hand on Remus's arm, his eyes filled with apology behind his glasses. "You're right. I'm sorry, Moony. I shouldn't have said that."
Remus dropped his chin onto his knees and looked at James. "You mustn't blame Sirius," he told his friend. "He didn't snap from a few weeks locked alone and starving and cold in a pitch black cellar with no hope of escape. He snapped from almost sixteen years of constant hatred and abuse at the hands of the only people in his life who should have loved him unconditionally. I know it's hard to understand because you have wonderful parents who care for you and spoil you, and who have even taken Sirius under their wings, but really it's too little, and too late. The damage was done a long time ago."
James patted Remus's arm, looking awkward. His mouth moved silently for a bit before he cleared his throat and said; "He's lucky to have someone like you. Someone who gets him, I mean. You're good for each other. I'm glad you got together." He coughed and looked embarrassed at the sentiment, glancing away and scratching the new, thin stubble growing on his fifteen-year-old chin, as if to reassure himself of his manliness.
Remus hid a smile and turned his head to look out the window. He knew that only the Marauders ever saw this side of James. To everyone else he seemed only arrogant, popular and a little bit cruel in his teasing. He wondered whether he should mention to James that perhaps he had more chance with Lily if he took down those shields, though he doubted his friend even knew he had them.
"I should tell Neil and Angela about us – Sirius and me, I mean," Remus said instead, taking pity on James who was shifting uncertainly in the emotion-tinged silence. "But I can't bring myself to do it now with all this other stress and my transformation in a week and everything."
"You have plenty of time. Don't worry about it now, mate. You don't have to feel guilty."
Remus gave James an amused sidelong glance. "What do you think of Snape?"
"Snivellus?" James scowled. "What the hell has he got to do with all this?" His eyes widened. "He doesn't fancy you, does he? I'll hex him for you if you like. Can I hex him?"
Remus laughed. "No, Prongs. I just had to check it was you. You were demonstrating alarming amounts of empathy and compassion and I thought you might have been replaced with an impostor. I needed to be reassured of your homicidal tendencies."
"Snivellus-cidal tendencies. I don't want to maim everyone I meet."
"Slytherin-cidal tendencies," Remus suggested and James smiled crookedly. He shoved his glasses up his nose and leaned back against the window, kicking his heels against the wall beneath the sill. "I'm guessing you want to borrow the cloak again tonight?"
"If you don't mind. Your mum has a habit of hanging round the Hospital Wing at night."
"Poor Moony," James smiled. "Have you had a single moment alone with him yet?"
"Only when he's been asleep."
James tilted his head, a wicked look in his eyes. "Ooh, Remus. Does Padfoot know about this kink of yours?"
Remus felt his eyes widen and he cuffed James around the head. "Get your mind out the gutter, Potter. You know perfectly well that's not what I meant."
"Sorry," James said, looking completely unrepentant. "Do you know that you actually glow when you blush?"
Remus blushed even more. "Shut up."
James grinned for a moment, then sobered. "When're you going?" he asked.
"In half an hour. Madame Pomfrey should be asleep by then."
"I'll get you the cloak." James shoved himself off the windowsill and headed up the stairs to the dorm.
"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
As he had done every night since Sirius's rescue, Remus silently made his way to the Hospital Wing under the protection of James's invisibility cloak. The Marauder's Map – almost completed now, bar a few kinks that needed to be ironed out - was open in Remus's hand, and he was relieved to note that Mrs. Potter wasn't in the hospital wing this night as she often was. On those nights, Remus was forced to remain under the cloak, keeping silent vigil from a distance as he watched Mrs. Potter stroke Sirius's hair back from his face and sooth him from his nightmares.
He slipped into the Hospital Wing, and his sensitive nose was immediately met with the scent of fear emanating from Sirius's bed – a slightly metallic-bronze smell that prompted Remus to hurry over to the bed where Sirius tossed restlessly, his face twisted as he let out a strangled whine of panic. There was an everlasting candle flickering on the bedside cabinet.
Remus leaned over and gripped his shoulders giving them a small shake. "Sirius! Padfoot! Wake up - it's just a nightmare. Wake up!"
Sirius flinched away from his hands and blank grey eyes snapped open to stare up at Remus's face for a moment. Remus moved one of his hands to brush damp hair away from Sirius's forehead. "It's just me. It's Remus."
"Moony…" Sirius's voice was a tentative croak.
"Yes. It's Moony. Come on Padfoot. Wake up for me, baby. Wake up properly."
Sirius's face twisted again into another strained expression, and it was a moment before Remus realised he was trying to smile. "Y'call…y'call m'baby," he rasped.
Remus coughed out a short laugh. "To be honest with you, I think I was channelling my mum. My real mum. I don't remember loads about her, but I remember she used to wake me up from nightmares saying that."
Sirius's face screwed up as his eyes cleared a little, obviously beginning to shake off the nightmare. "You ruined it now, Moony!"
"What?" Remus smiled. "You like me calling you 'baby'?"
Sirius shrugged a little, eyes skittering away. "You don't usually use a pet name for me." Remus reflected that it was a rare moment when he saw Sirius like this. Half asleep, shy, and with all his determinedly 'manly' shields down. He thought about how much he enjoyed the little shiver Sirius caused to run through him every time he used the word 'babe'.
"Well then by all means, cupcake," he teased, leaning forward to kiss Sirius's sweaty forehead which creased into a scowl under his lips.
"Not that!"
"Honeybun?"
"No!"
"Snookums?"
"Absolutely not."
"Darling little sausage?"
"I am nobody's darling little sausage, and you would do well to remember that, Lupin." Sirius tried to look menacing, but with his hair ruffled, his eyes swollen with sleep and the remnants of his disturbed dreams, he only succeeded in looking mildly constipated.
"You look mildly constipated," Remus told him.
"Did you come here to insult me?"
"Among other things."
Sirius's eyes gleamed in the flickering light of the candle. "What other things?"
"I come bearing gifts of from the far off land of Honeydukes." Remus pulled a small pile of sweets and chocolates out of his robe pocket and put them on the cabinet beside the candle.
"Any of that been up your nostrils?" Sirius asked.
"What? No!"
"Just checking Pete hadn't started a trend." Sirius groaned and curled onto his side, his arm moving to press against his stomach.
"Is it really bad?" Remus asked. "Madame Pomfrey left out a painkilling potion. But only one. You know you can't have too many."
"Just give me the damned thing," Sirius begged.
Remus picked up the vial and handed it to him and Sirius downed the contents.
"Lie on your back," Remus instructed, pressing Sirius's shoulder back against the bed. The other boy reluctantly uncurled.
"What're you doing?" Sirius asked, his voice still strained with pain.
Remus hesitated, suddenly feeling nervous. He wasn't sure what was making him so bold, but he thought it might have been his fuzzy post-moon memories involving a feeling of warm, safe arms around him, and a gentle hand running up and down his back. The rhythmic movement of Sirius's hand always rubbed away the aches that plagued him and soothed the tense muscles of his back.
"Just lie still," he told Sirius. "I'm going to try help with the pain."
"How?"
Remus gathered his Gryffindor courage and reached out to gently pull up Sirius's pyjama top, exposing the other boy's still starved-looking stomach.
"Moony!" Sirius looked shocked. "What are you doing? It better not be anything new and sexy. I'm not exactly feeling feisty at the moment."
Remus flushed, but he set his jaw bravely. "It's not sexy. I'm just trying to help you." He sent Sirius a pleading look, and Sirius's expression softened. Since that first impulsive time in the bathroom, Remus had rarely initiated a kiss or any other intimate moment (bar those moments after the full moons where he wasn't in his right mind). He just didn't have the self confidence and dreaded that he might do something Sirius hated. He knew Sirius was aware of this, so he wasn't surprised when the other boy reached out and took his hand, guiding it to his stomach.
"It's okay, Moony. You know I would tell you if you did anything I didn't like. I won't ever be angry at you just for trying something new."
Sirius's stomach was tight and warm under his hand, dipping far below his clearly-defined ribcage. Remus could feel the tense muscles spasming with pain. The potion he had taken was mild and took a while to work – the only kind Sirius's delicate stomach didn't reject. "Tell me if I hurt you," Remus said.
Slowly, he began running his hand over the pain-tensed area, lightly at first, then gradually increasing the pressure when he felt the muscles begin to relax a little with a mixture of the potion and the gentle massage.
"God, Moony," Sirius breathed, his voice betraying his relief. "How did you know how to do that?"
"It's something I do before the full moon sometimes. You know how my muscles begin preparing for the change and start to spasm and tense up. I find it helps. And it's even better if someone else is doing it. You do it sometimes after the full moon – rub your hand up and down my back. I don't remember much, but I remember that. It helps relax me."
"It feels good. That damn potion doesn't really make a lot of difference." Sirius closed his eyes and Remus saw his whole body relax as the pain began to leave him. He massaged both hands up to the base of Sirius's ribcage, then down to the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, then moved them across Sirius's belly and along his sides. In spite of his assurances to Sirius, he couldn't help finding the whole situation oddly erotic. Sirius's bellybutton was a neat oval against his pale, pure-blood skin. A line of the soft dark hair trailed down from it and disappeared below the elastic of his pyjamas. The little groans of relief and enjoyment did nothing to lessen Remus's problem.
"I thought you said this wasn't going to be sexy," Sirius's voice teased after a while, sounding rather drowsy.
Remus jerked his hands away guiltily. "It wasn't meant to be."
Sirius opened his eyes and smiled. "I never said I was complaining, babe. Don't stop."
Remus moved his hands away completely and clenched them in his lap. He wondered if Sirius was fighting arousal as much as he was. Judging by the slightly-more-bulging-than-usual bump at the front of the boy's pyjama bottoms (that Remus was trying desperately to avoid looking at), he was. "I don't think that's a good idea."
Sirius seemed to wake from his drowsy state and looked at Remus in concern. "What's wrong, Moony?"
"Nothing. I just don't want to take advantage of you while you're not well."
"We're together, Remus. It wouldn't be taking advantage."
Remus shook his head, unable to explain the guilty awkwardness that seemed to have taken up residence in his stomach. "You're not well. You need to sleep, and so do I. Full moon in a few days time. Here – I'll put your sweets in the draw so Madame Pomfrey doesn't spot them and confiscate them. Just don't eat them all at once and make yourself sick."
He reached out and pulled open the drawer.
"Moony, no!"
Sirius wasn't quite quick enough to stop him and the drawer opened. Remus stared into it, wondering why Sirius had tried to stop him. Then his sensitive nose picked up the potent scent of firewhiskey, and he yanked the draw all the way open to reveal half a bottle of Ogden's finest tucked right at the back. He reached out with a shaking hand and picked it up.
"So this is why your stomach hasn't been healing properly," he murmured, knowing his voice was laden with disappointment. He looked up at Sirius who had rolled onto his front and buried his face in his pillow. "Don't you care about what you're doing to yourself?"
Sirius mumbled something into his pillow that sounded more like an extended whimper than real speech.
Remus turned the bottle around in his hands, staring down at the label. "My father used to drink this stuff," he commented, deliberately keeping his voice level. "He would drink and drink until his mind was completely addled. He was always more irrational and violent at those times. I think that even he was shocked at how much he hurt me under the influence of alcohol."
Sirius's hands tightened on his pillow and he turned his head a little so Remus could understand him. When he spoke his voice was rough and broken. "I would never hurt you, Remus."
"You will. You are. By hurting yourself like this, you hurt me. You don't understand the effect alcohol has on your health and your judgment. Please, Sirius. I don't want you to do something we'll both regret. Please, please, just promise me you won't drink anymore."
"I need it," Sirius whispered. "It's the only way I can bear to sleep. It's the only way I can bear to spend any time in my own company. It takes away the bad things in my head. I can't cope with thinking all the time."
"Do you think I don't know what it's like?" Remus demanded. "Stopping yourself from thinking about it won't make it go away. You have to face your issues, not hide from them. That's why I'm here, and James and Peter. And the Potters. We want to help you work through this, but we can't do it if you insist on destroying yourself."
"For God's sake," Sirius snapped suddenly, his temper flaring. "Stop being so melodramatic! It's just a drink."
"It's not just a bloody drink! You don't understand what it does to people. I have the scars to prove it!"
"Stop comparing me to your git of a father!"
"Then stop acting like him!" Remus sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. "Please, love. I beg you – I beg you not to do this. Please, please, please. For me, if not for yourself. I've never asked you for anything else. Please just do this for me."
"That's low, Remus. Using a pet name to get me to do what you want."
Remus's hands tightened on the bottle and Sirius flopped back against the bed again, all the fight seeming to go out of him. "All right, fine," he said dully. "I won't drink anymore. If it's that important to you, I won't do it."
An odd kind of sobbing laugh bubbled up out of Remus's throat and his whole body sagged in relief. "You promise?"
"Yeah. I promise."
"Where did you get this anyway?" Remus shook the bottle.
"It was in my trunk. I got a house elf to bring it to me."
Remus glared at the bottle, then tucked it into his pocket.
"What are you doing?" Sirius asked.
"Removing temptation."
"Don't you trust me?"
Remus wanted to say 'alcohol makes liars of us all'. Instead he said, "Of course I do. But why leave it here to torture you?"
Sirius settled back, contented with the reassurance. "I really didn't do it to hurt you, Moony."
"I know, Pads."
"I just wanted to clear my mind. Uncomplicate things a bit."
"I know. It's alright." Remus reached out and tugged down Sirius's pyjama top, then straightened his covers over his body. He brushed Sirius's dark hair away from his face. "Go to sleep."
"You won't leave, will you?" Sirius asked, trying and failing to sound unconcerned about the answer.
"I'll be right here when you wake," Remus assured him. "But I'm going to put the cloak on, okay? I'm not supposed to be here at night." He slung the cloak over his shoulders so he disappeared from sight.
Sirius's hand snuck out from his covers and under the cloak, pulling Remus's from his lap. Remus decided not to comment on quite how tightly Sirius clung to his hand. The gesture had a lot more to do with desperation than romance. He watched as Sirius's eyes fell closed, and after a long while his breathing slowed in sleep.
"It's okay," he whispered very quietly, looking down at their linked hands. His own looked rather disturbing – being the only part of him not covered by the cloak. "I got you. I won't let go. Not ever."
""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
Sirius was released from the Hospital Wing two weeks later, only a few days before the start of the new term. It had not been an easy time for any of them. Remus's transformation had been particularly violent due to his churning emotions, and as a result, Sirius had not been the only one confined under Madame Pomfrey's care for those few days.
"You can't believe how amazing it feels to be free at last," Sirius said, as Remus and James helped him through the portrait hole. Weeks of no exercise had left Sirius weak and he was out of breath and shaky by the time they finally made their way to Gryffindor tower, in spite of the fact that the other Marauders had supported him most of the way.
"Believe me, I know everything about the sense of relief you get escaping from the Hospital Wing," Remus said wryly. He helped Sirius over to the sofa by the fire and eased him down onto it.
"Remind me never to mock you for your shameless pleading to Pomfrey again."
"I'm never as shameless as you," Remus said. "Besides – it's your own fault for getting yourself into a life-threatening situation."
"Me?" Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Like you're one to talk. You're the one who's always knocking on Death's door."
"I never knock on Death's door," Remus told him. "I ring the bell and run. He hates that."
"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
Much as Remus had been looking forward to the arrival of the rest of the school, he had forgotten quite how chaotic it was, and little privacy was available in a tower full of hyperactive, hormonal adolescents. Unfortunately for Sirius, although his appearance had improved drastically over the his time in Madame Pomfrey's care, it was impossible to miss the fact he was weak, sickly and half starved.
Rumours buzzed like mosquitoes in and out of the ears of the Gryffindor students, and from there, spread round the rest of the school. From what Remus had heard, they varied from outrageous (that Sirius had accidentally swallowed the eggs of three Gastrocaline snakes that were currently eating him from the inside out and that he only had two more weeks to live) to disturbingly close to the truth.
The Marauders protected him as best they could, but Remus could see the toll that the situation was taking on him. Sirius slowly began to withdraw from his friends and disappeared on his own for long periods at a time, taking the Marauder's map so they had no way to find him.
Remus felt utterly helpless, and his worry brought Moony black to the surface, and made his own recovery very slow.
One Tuesday night, three weeks into the new school term, Remus was woken to terrified whimpers from Sirius's bed. He was a little surprised that Sirius had forgotten to cast the silencing charm he had been using since his return to the dorm, and he rolled out of bed and padded over. He caught sight of James's ruffled form sitting up sleepily in his own bed.
"It's okay," Remus whispered. "I got it."
James gave a worried nod and lay back again, facing Sirius's closed bed curtains. Remus slipped through the curtains without opening them, and stared down at the other boy. Sirius hadn't returned that night until long after the others had gone to sleep. Remus assumed he had retreated to wherever it was he went when things got too much.
Sirius was still dressed in his school robes, curled up on top of his covers. An odd, low groan was emanating from deep in this throat, and Remus could see from the light of Sirius's wand that was lying on the cabinet beside his bed, that his friend's face was blanched white and twisted with fear.
"Sirius!" Remus shook Sirius's curled form gently. He only succeeded in making Sirius curl up more tightly. Remus shook a bit more roughly, then jumped when Sirius uncurled as suddenly as spring twanging back into place, and flailed blindly at Remus.
"It's just me, Padfoot!"
One of Sirius's hands managed to snag the front of Remus's pyjamas and dragged him forward to peer dimly at his face. His breath smelled like stale cooking sherry.
"You promised, Sirius," Remus whispered, feeling his stomach twist with betrayal.
"Wha'?" Sirius was obviously struggling to wake up. His voice was slurred with the remnants of sleep and alcohol.
"You promised me you wouldn't drink." Remus angrily tried to untangle Sirius's fingers from the front of his pyjama top.
"MoonyMoonyMoony," Sirius babbled, clinging on tighter. "Don' go! They're here. I c'n feel 'em, y'know. Crawling shadow beasties. Don' go my Moony. In m'head. Pleasepleaseplease!"
Remus felt sick with a mixture of pity, love and anger. He stopped trying to prize the fingers free and Sirius clutched him closer. "Nonono…Don' go. Don' go, babe."
As usual, that word proved to be his undoing, and he allowed himself to be pulled into the bed beside Sirius who burrowed into his chest in a way that reminded Remus disturbingly of Hamish. Remus curled around his larger form as best he could and Sirius gave a dog-like snuffle and dropped back into sleep.
""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
Remus knew that insanity ran rampant in the Black family. He wondered if split personalities were part of the genetic code, or if this brand of mental distortion was individual to Sirius.
As Sirius began regaining weight and the rumours began to dissipate, his good humour seemed to return, along with his inner (or in Sirius's case outer) Marauder. During the day, Sirius could be found practicing Quidditch, or stealing food from the kitchens, or plotting pranks with James who was delighted to have his partner in crime back to normal again. When he decided Remus was working too hard, Sirius would cuddle up and huff down his neck until Remus agreed to an extended snogging session in the dorm or an empty classroom, or to aid the other Maruaders in pulling minor pranks on the rest of the school. To all intents and purposes, Sirius seemed to be back to normal.
At night, however, Remus was woken frequently by the sharp, metallic scent of fear and would slip out of bed to lie next to Sirius who whispered and babbled with sherry-tinted breath about shadow-beasties and the creeping, creeping dark, as he borrowed and wormed his way closer to Remus's warmth before falling into fitful sleep.
Daytime-Sirius was wild, boyish, and overflowing with pranks and mischief and puppy-dog tails – completely free of worries or fears or the shadows of cellar-dark memories.
Night-time-Sirius was dark and hopeless - driven to the point of coppery, fear-filled insanity.
