trigger warning
Chapter Three: I Should Have Been There
James found Sirius asleep on the floor, curled up next to Remus's open trunk. Classes had been canceled for the rest of the week, so Sirius hadn't missed anything. James's heart wrenched as he realized that Sirius was wearing one of Remus's hoodies. He knew he had given them a lot of shit, but it was all joking, and they knew that. He could tell how much they truly loved each other, and seeing Sirius in so much pain hurt almost as badly as Remus being gone.
Fuck, it didn't feel fucking real. Remus was fine. He'd walk into the dorm any minute. Sirius would wake up and run to kiss him. They'd all laugh and talk and goof off, and it would be perfect. Remus had to be ok. He had to be.
He was worried about Sirius. It was obvious that Sirius was by far the worst out of the three of them. It made sense. Remus had been their best friend, but he was Sirius's boyfriend, and their bond had been undeniably strong. He just hoped that Sirius would be strong enough to pull through. He had to watch him, make sure that he didn't do anything stupid.
He ran a weary hand through his already messy hair. It was going to be hell to get through this. Nothing could prepare you for something like this. He sighed, sitting down on the edge of his bed and putting his face in his hands. It just hurt so fucking badly.
He knew the ache would never fully go away. It would always be there, dull and throbbing, an empty space in their hearts. "Fuck, Rem," he said softly, so as not to wake Sirius. "Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you let us help?"
Of course, there was no answer. He hadn't expected one. There had been a brief thought that Remus might come back as a ghost, but he had dismissed it instantly. He knew there was no way. Ghosts were people who didn't want to pass on, who were afraid of what death really held. Remus had gladly welcomed death with open arms. There was no way he was coming back.
As reality came back to him, there was a sinking feeling in his chest. It grew heavier with each moment, weighing him down, begging to be allowed to pull James down with it. He couldn't let it. He had to stay strong, he had to keep fighting. For himself, for Peter, for Sirius. And for Remus. It was what Remus would have wanted.
Remus wouldn't have wanted to see his friends in so much pain. Remus hadn't viewed himself as important, or as belonging. He had never told James much about his problems, but that much was obvious. Sirius probably knew the most out of anyone, though it was definitely not the whole picture. Remus had hidden himself away, burying everything behind the walls he had constructed.
Against his will, a few stray tears rolled down his cheeks. It just hurt so badly. It physically hurt. James knew he had to be strong, but he didn't know how to be. He was scared of opening up, scared of telling anyone what he felt. If it got worse, he knew he would have to. He couldn't let himself become another Remus, couldn't let himself be torn apart from the inside by hidden problems, even though part of him wanted to let himself be consumed by them. It seemed easier that way.
He and Sirius and Peter were all going to handle it different ways. Although, Sirius probably wasn't going to handle it. He was going to build up walls and bottle it up until it exploded. And James prayed the explosion wouldn't take Sirius with it. Sirius hadn't had the best of childhoods, James knew that from the little Sirius had said to him in the past. Sirius had a way of handling things, which consisted of ignoring them until they wouldn't let themselves be ignored any longer. And James was terrified of what Sirius might do.
"Fuck, Remy," he said again. "Why?"
That was the biggest thing for James- his confusion. He couldn't understand quite what had driven Remus to his decision. He knew he probably would never really understand it, and he accepted that. It didn't mean, though, that he didn't question it. He did. He couldn't fathom what it would be like to be in a position where you viewed death as the only escape, and he prayed he never would.
But he imagined Remus in that position, sobbing and terrified, weak, tired of fighting, welcoming death like an old friend. And it hurt so badly. This was Remus, who was always kind and helpful, not afraid to stand up for the younger students, always compassionate and caring. Remus was always there for them, but they hadn't been there for him. And that was the worst part.
More tears rolled down James's cheeks, but he didn't care. He let them. After all, letting his emotions out was a thousand times better than bottling them up. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, staring helplessly down at his hands.
He wondered what he would have done, if he had had the opportunity to step in. He wondered what he would have said to Remus, how he would have gone about talking him off the tower. He hoped he would have been successful. A tiny part of him was glad that he hadn't been in that position. Because, if he had failed, that would have torn him apart. He wouldn't have been able to recover from that.
He was exhausted. He slowly walked over to Remus's bed, where Sirius was still sleeping on the floor. He lifted Sirius up, placing him gently on the bed, then lay down beside him, holding him close. His tears soaked the pillow, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Finally, he felt himself drifting off. "Oh, Remy," he whispered. "I should have been there. I'm so sorry."
A/N:
hey
another chapter, bc today has been shit, and i write when i feel like shit, so i don't do anything stupid
have some james and some pain, because i love that motherfucker and also ~ ~
take care, drink some water, i love you all so much 3
ktf xolyn