Remus wakes up in the morning feeling drained and light-headed, almost hungover. He's a little grateful that Harry is sleepy, too. They spend the morning with breakfast and books on the couch before Arthur comes over to collect Harry for the afternoon, ostensibly to free up Remus to get some research done. Remus is fundamentally not in the right frame of mind for reading about goblin rebellions. He stays curled up on the couch, trying to re-read The Hobbit (an old favorite), and working his way through a mug of tea.

He's heard Sirius moving around all day; he's not asleep. Remus' stomach roils nervously. He meant what he said last night, but he should have kept his head better, saved it all for some other time. Remus doesn't know when that time will be, but surely choosing a moment when Sirius was half asleep and panicked wasn't the best time to plead with him to be more forthcoming. If Remus had even gotten that point across, which he rather doubts.

There are so many things Remus doesn't know how to handle right now, and they're all spinning through his head on a loop. Doesn't know how to help Sirius. Doesn't know how to take care of Sirius while being a parent to Harry. He is never sure he's doing the right thing by Harry at all.

He looks out the window, in the direction of the Burrow. He knows he is being hard on himself when it comes to Harry. Molly and Arthur have always told him he's doing well, and he respects their opinions of parenting. Harry is friendly, inquisitive, kind, most of which Remus takes no credit for. He is happy, too, much happier than he was when he came to Remus, and Remus thinks of that as something of an accomplishment. He thinks of these things and reminds himself that he is doing okay. He tells himself he would never be this hard on anyone other than Remus J. Lupin, and maybe he should give himself a break.

"Hey."

Remus is startled out of his window gazing by Sirius' quiet greeting. He looks around. Sirius is standing at the bottom of the stairs. He's wearing a soft t-shirt and pj pants, he hasn't bothered getting dressed. His arms are crossed and he's watching Remus uncertainly.

"Hey," Remus responds quietly. It is immediately clear they are not going to pretend nothing happened last night, and Remus is deeply relieved. "Tea?"

"Oh. Sure."

Remus summons a mug from the kitchen and fills it from his pot. He holds it out to Sirius without rising from the couch. Sirius takes it and sits at the other end. He puts his elbows on his knees, holds the mug in both hands. Remus waits for him to talk.

"I pushed you over," Sirius says. "Are you alright?"

"Oh - fine," Remus says. "Don't apologize, you were asleep."

Sirius slides him a sideways glance that says he disagrees with this account of fault. He looks back at the mug. His knuckles are white, and this sign of nerves makes Remus' stomach twist tighter.

"I was thinking about what you said-"

"Sirius, I was upset and tired I didn't mean to be so-"

"Can you just let me finish?" Sirius cuts across, glancing at him again. "You asked me to talk, so…"

"Okay, yes. Sorry," Remus answers.

Sirius looks at the floor and takes several long breaths. His mouth moves to speak a few times before he actually manages to.

"I'm such a disaster," Sirius says bitterly. "I know that. Sometimes I-I feel okay, but it doesn't last long. Like I'm fine, and then you… you just look at me and I feel like I'm gonna… lose it." His hands are shaking, setting tremors through the tea in his mug. "I can't be - Everything's so nice here. I can't be, like, waking you up all hours and scaring Harry and just… messing things up. More. Not that that's exactly fucking possible."

Remus' hands are shaking, too. He puts down his tea. "Sirius-"

"I can get my own place. Could certainly afford it now, anyway," he says through a very forced smile. He sets his tea down, too. It spills a little over the edge of the cup.

"We like having you here," Remus says. He keeps his tone low and calm, although part of him wants very badly to shout. "And you're not a disaster, you've been through so much, you're just-"

"That's not an excuse," Sirius mutters.

"It is, actually," Remus says. "But what do you mean about… losing it?"

Sirius just shakes his head.

"Please help me understand, Pads."

Sirius sucks in a breath through his teeth as though the nickname stings him. He screws his face up and manages to talk again.

"I keep thinking you're gonna be mad, but you're not," he says. "How the fuck are you not mad?"

Remus immediately loses his grip on his own tone. "Mad?" he repeats in a slightly strangled voice. "Of course I'm not mad."

Sirius stands abruptly, paces away.

"You should be mad. You should hate me."

"No. Sirius-"

"I killed them."

There's a hollow rushing in Remus' ears. He knew this was where they were headed, but he doesn't feel prepared for it. Sirius is staring out the window, his arms hanging at his sides.

"No, you didn't, Sirius," he says quietly. "I don't hate you. It's not your fault."

"It was my idea," Sirius says flatly. "I suggested we switch."

"You trusted someone we all trusted," Remus counters. "We were all targeting by fucking Voldemort himself, Sirius. I know it doesn't help, exactly, but there's nothing we could have done. We were teenagers thrown into a war."

That makes Sirius turn around. He's wrapped his arms tightly across his ribs. His face is white and stricken.

"It's not your fault," Remus says again.

Sirius just shakes his head.

Remus tries a different approach. "I keep waiting for you to be mad at me," he says quietly. "For… leaving you in there."

Sirius blinks. "Leaving me in there? You got me out."

"Well, yes. But I believed Peter until the evidence was in front of me."

Sirius waves this away, so Remus makes his point clearer.

"Sirius, that's all you did. You just believed Peter. If you can forgive me for believing him, maybe you can..."

Sirius shakes his head again, backs away a little. Remus can see his shoulders heaving, he's breathing too fast.

"But I could have - I could have kept out of Azkaban if I'd just gone to you or Dumbledore…"

This is too much, Remus' feels tears burning his eyes. He pushes himself to his feet and takes a slow step toward Sirius. Sirius shies back a step and keeps talking.

"If I'd just gotten someone instead of going after Peter after I found-after… "

"You wanna go back and expect logic from yourself in that moment?" Remus manages. "Sirius, that's not reasonable, you w-were… I can't imagine what it was like to be at their house and - Come on, give yourself a break. I have nightmares about that and I wasn't even there."

Sirius' pleading, frightened eyes flood with tears, but he shakes his head again. His next words come out strangled.

"Remus, if I-if I just trusted you… If I even-even had the fucking guts to admit I didn't trust you..."

Remus pauses, taking a long breath around the painful squeezing of his heart.

"Sirius, I… I didn't do anything about my-my doubts either, you… you know I understand why you didn't, right?" he manages to say. He drags his hand across his face, pressing back tears. "I felt like if I admitted that doubt, I'd lose you one way or the other, and I… I thought that would kill me. It did, almost. So I didn't say anything either. I know that's… horrible, too," he says a little helplessly. "I just - I understand."

Sirius is so pale. He looks as fragile as he did in front of the Wizengamot.

"I… Remus…"

This isn't the Wizengamot, though, they aren't separated by walls and chains and shield spells, they're separated by the length of Remus' living room rug. Remus walks across it. Sirius hunches in on himself protectively but holds his gaze. His mouth works like he's about to speak but no sounds come out. Remus swallows against the lump in his throat as he realizes Sirius is holding his breath. He's forcing himself not to cry. It is a child's trick, one learned by a boy who never expected his distress to be met with kindness.

Remus places a hand on Sirius' arm before he can take another step back. His other hand goes tentatively to Sirius' cheek, though he hovers, not quite touching him.

"Sirius," he says gently. "Pads, come on, it's just me. I've got you, it's okay."

"Remus," he gasps, "I can't-I…"

"It's just me," Remus whispers. "It's just me. It's okay, you're okay."

"Moony-"

But whatever Sirius means to say is lost in a harsh sob. Remus' own grief floods up, threatening to overwhelm him, but the relief he feels is keener as Sirius - Finally, Remus thinks, finally - falls into his waiting arms. Remus feels the wolf like it's leapt out of him, protective and snarling, like it's tearing into everything that's kept them apart.

Remus staggers back as Sirius collapses against him, face buried in his shoulder. They stumble together onto the couch, clinging to each other. Remus falls back and Sirius winds up curled against his chest, shaking. Remus wraps his arms around him, holding him close.

"I didn't-I didn't mean to," Sirius gasps against Remus' shirt.

"I know. I know, Pads. I've got you…"

"James and Lily… I-Moony, I g-got her killed," Sirius sobs. "James, he'd-"

"Loved you," Remus whispers vehemently. "They loved you, Sirius. They could never hate you, they don't hate you."

Sirius quickly loses the ability to speak, sobbing into Remus' shoulder. Remus isn't sure if what he's said was exactly right or exactly wrong, but Sirius holds onto him tightly, and that makes Remus think it was right. He redoubles his own hold, gasping against his own tears, and attempts to fold his entire self around all of the hurt and fear in Sirius.

He feels so small in the face of this unleashed grief. The enormity of what has been taken from Sirius, what's been done to him, is overwhelming. What Remus can offer in response doesn't feel like nearly enough, but he does it anyway.

"I've got you," he says over and over again. "Got you, Sirius."