Author's note: I miss my best friend, y'all. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the canon, world, and characters portrayed below and you can tell I'm not J.K. Rowling because #transrights

Content Warnings: Injury/illness; hospital setting

The Last Man Standing

Remus blinked as he resituated himself. St. Mungo's. Right. He mustn't have looked very good when he'd gotten home after the full moon that morning, if Dora had brought him here. And he must have passed out if he didn't remember getting to the hospital, either. The bed he was in wasn't particularly comfortable, and it was somewhat worrying that it felt so familiar to him. But he was in some sort of potion-induced, painless haze so at least that was nice. When he turned to look to his right, he saw Sirius sunken into a guest chair where he usually expected to see Dora or Teddy.

"Good morning Sleeping Beauty," Sirius said. He was wearing a thick black sweater with cables knit into it—probably an old gift from Molly—and a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips. Graying hair had been pulled into a bun and he was apparently still refusing to wear the glasses Kingsley had forced him to get since he needed them quite badly.

"I don't feel particularly beautiful," Remus said. Nor did he sound it as his voice croaked.

"I personally think you look dashing as ever."

"Always nice to have you in attendance," Remus said. He'd try to force a smile, but he was afraid of what that might look like. "Dora?"

"Getting coffee upstairs," Sirius said. "We thought we might be here a while."

"How long was I out?"

"The full moon was two days ago, Remus," Sirius said.

The news, for whatever reason, absolutely exhausted him. His shoulders and head felt heavier, as they pressed into the pillow. Two days… this was officially his most botched, worst transformation yet.

"Oye, stop torturing yourself," Sirius said.

"I'm not—"

"Don't even start with me," Sirius said. "I've seen those brown eyes spiral into self-deprecation and anxiety often enough to see it coming a mile away. Yes, we were all worried about you, but that's hardly your fault and we're just happy that you're safe and sound—so knock it off."

Remus smiled. His eyes fluttered shut and he breathed in and out a few times before opening them again.

"We really have known each other a long time," Remus mused.

"Over three quarters of your miserable life," Sirius said, dragging his chair closer to Remus's bedside. "And counting. Yeah?"

"Yeah," Remus said. "Counting… Dora called you?"

"I keep track of when full moons are."

"But she called you when I landed in here, didn't she?" Remus said.

"She didn't think you were dying, if that's what you're asking," Sirius said. "Because you're not. You're just old as shit, not that that should change much for you. You were fourty at heart when I met you."

Remus managed to laugh.

"Just because you still drive that infernal motorcycle around doesn't mean you aren't old as shit too, as you put it," Remus said.

"What would you know of it?" Sirius said. "Age becomes me."

"Of course," Remus said. He turned his head to face Sirius—old, also grey, also wrinkled Sirius.

"Can you believe we're the last two left?" Sirius asked him more gently now, less jokingly.

"I had never thought of that before," Remus said. "Of us not all being old and grey together. Then I thought I was alone and then… well, then the world fell off its hinges and I barely had time to think at all. But it so rarely ran through my mind, back then, that we would be separated one day."

There had been so many moments, especially moments involving Harry, where James's absence had been so painful and obvious. When he thought of Lily, Remus wanted to mourn all over again. There was even a part of him that mourned for Peter's loss; or at least the loss of the Peter they'd thought they'd known, the Peter who had completed the silly little group they had taken so seriously and loved so much. The group that had felt so permanent.

"That was young and foolish of us," Sirius said.

"True," Remus said. "But I think it was lovely too. Hopeful."

"I suppose hope is foolish and lovely."

"You sound so wise," Remus grinned.

"Maybe that's because I'm destined to be old and wise," Sirius said. "I could grow out a beard like Dumbledore—you better start now if I ever want to catch up."

"You'll never catch up to me," Remus said. "You said it yourself, I was born middle-aged."

"You sure were," Sirius said. "That just means you have practise on your side, grandpa, not finesse. I'll have you know that I wore slippers around the house the other day and liked it."

"My granddaughter asked me if I had candy for her when I walked her home from school the other day and I had caramels in my coat pocket," Remus said. "How can you out-grandpa that?"

"My husband left me in charge of dinner yesterday and we ate at 5:00 p.m. sharp," Sirius said.

"I listened to the weather channel on the radio for fun and liked it," Remus said.

"I drank tea in the middle of the day yesterday," Sirius said. "Just because I could."

"I've been drinking tea twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year for decades, Black," Remus said with a grin. "You'll never out-grandpa me."

"That'll just make it easier for me to outlive the shit out of you, I suppose," Sirius said, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Don't count me out yet," Remus said. "I'll be the last Marauder standing, mark my words."

"Yeah, right," Sirius said.

"You'll see," Remus said. "Or at least you would, if you'd put on your old man glasses."

"Oye," Sirius said. "What's that about my eyes when you can barely keep yours open?"

Remus grinned but Sirius was right. He'd hoped to stay awake until Dora came back with her cup, but he was starting to fall asleep again.

"Wake me up when my wife comes back," Remus said.

"I will do no such thing, get some rest," Sirius said.

"I'm not falling asleep again if you don't promise," Remus said.

"Then I'm not going to make it easy for you to stay awake," Sirius said, getting up. He peered into the hall to make sure that there weren't any healers wandering the halls about to burst in, and then dropped down into his Animagus form. Padfoot hopped onto his bed.

"That's hardly fair," Remus said.

Padfoot didn't care; he curled against Remus, warm and soft, and soon enough Remus couldn't help but drift off. Remus had been fast asleep for a long time, out like a light and completely dead to the world, Sirius transformed back into his human form. He brushed some stray pieces of grey hair from Remus' eyes.

"Please outlast me, you old man," Sirius said quietly. "I don't want to be the last Marauder standing."

WC: 1154