The doorknob was cold and so was the air as Remus walked into his apartment. Shivering slightly, he watched his breath float through the air and looked longingly over at the heater before rolling his eyes and walking over to flick it on and wait for things to warm up even slightly. Tugging off his scarf, he groaned at the pile of course work that was sitting on the kitchen bench. Come home to recover, only to have more work. It wasn't unusual, and it wasn't unwanted. Only, the exhaustion was threatening to take over. Heavy eyelids and slumped shoulders, he made his way over to the fridge. The list of things he was meant to buy was still pinned under the magnet that he used for everything. It wasn't likely that anything had been checked off, but it was still good to make sure. It also wasn't likely that he was going to go out to buy anything, the couch was begging him to come over, he could feel it.

Sure enough, the list was still complete, completely unchecked off, that is. Lists were great, they were helpful and handy for when Remus's brain was scattered 'round the world, but they were also just more and more depressing. He looked around the room and there were lists pinned everywhere. Along the doors, there was one on the table. There was even one on the fucking bookshelf. So many lists and not enough energy.

Even so, Remus was determined to get through the course work. He would, he would, he had to. His back and head were pounding with pain, but they were part of another list. One that didn't need completing, one that was more of a checklist, a list of symptoms that is. And unfortunately, he knew that there was nothing that was going to help except for a shit ton of painkillers and he wasn't quite ready for that. Semi angrily, he yanked a chair out of its normal spot at the table and slid in, readying a fine liner and opening a textbook.

—

The sun had set, the heater had finally kicked in, a list was almost complete and Remus's head would explode if he didn't get away from the fucking light RIGHT NOW. Groaning and using his hands to help, he managed to stand and stumble over to his room, for once relieved that his apartment was so tiny. Closing the door as quietly as possible behind him, he shut the curtains and struggled through the action of taking his shoes and jacket off before collapsing on his bed. Desperately trying to think of something to distract him.

Dorcas's birthday, yes, yes that was a good thought. He'd bake a cake. They'd have a party. Marlene would be back soon and he'd talk to her about it. What else? What else? It was more difficult than he used to believe, distracting oneself, far too difficult in his opinion. Thinking of James, Peter, pastries, all good distractions, but the pain was fitting back just as fiercely. Sirius, Sirius kept jumping into his thoughts as well. Sirius with his strange answers to questions, never quite giving any straight answers. Sirius with his Freddie Mercury persona that every once and awhile faded just a little. Sirius with his grey eyes and long hair. Sirius with that damned motorbike that Remus ached to go on again, though the mere thought of it sent his head throbbing even more aggressively.

Sirius being so distracting didn't make a whole lot of sense, generally Remus went through the plot of a book, or re-thought the day, but perhaps it was just because he was a strange new person. He didn't often have conversations with strangers, not proper ones anyway, only the brief exchanges from worker to customer. Sirius probably had millions of conversations with strangers. Calling them all darling and dear and honey, wishing them well, turning up the charm and laughing quietly as everyone gravitates towards him. But Remus wasn't like that. He was the person who stood to the side, who reserved nicknames for those he knew best and he was the person to come across as rude or cold or as a couple of people had asked — mute.

He wasn't all too fussed about not being like Sirius, or so he told himself. And mostly, he wasn't too fussed with anything but getting rid of the blasted pain. Reaching over blindly for his water bottle and the paracetamol, thoughts of "maybe your making it out to be worse than it is" running through his head, he took two and wished he could take more without it making everything worse. But he'd tried that before - the hospital had been blinding white and the noise had been the worst thing he'd ever heard. It was better to deal with the pain two tablets at a time, than to end up like that again.

The blaring noise of a phone ringing sounded only a few minutes after. Just when his head was finally in a spot that didn't make the pain worse. He shouldn't be surprised really, he told himself. The ringtone was all too familiar. James. Sitting up, almost as if he were a rusty robot of some kind, he picked up the phone and held it slightly away from his ear, hoping that James wasn't going to yell into the phone.

"Moony?"

"Yeah?" He replied blearily, thanking whatever god was out there that James hadn't screamed.

"Are you alright? You weren't good at all when you were at the bakery."

"Yeah, I know I wasn't. And no, not really okay if you want the truth. Just taken more painkillers. The headache's easing a little, but not enough."

"Do you want me to come over?"

"No, no."

"It's no problem, really. Pete's out and anyone else who wants to come over knows where the key is."

"I still can't believe that you just let anyone you know crash at yours. But anyway, no. No, have a good night or whatever. I'm just lying in a dark room. I'll be fine. Thank you though."

"Anytime Rem. Take care. Wait four hours before taking anything else, okay?"

"Okay, James, okay."

"Awesome. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Remus agreed, his expressing becoming significantly lighter at James's words. He'd be back at work tomorrow. He just had to make it through tonight. Tomorrow wasn't all that far away, truly. He just had to get through a little while longer. It wasn't that long at all, was it?

The next day would dawn bright, and well, not early at all, but he'd be there early, and he'd be baking again. The flour would hopefully stay to the designated areas, rather than the floor. Chances were that he wouldn't walk into a mess. And more likely than not, James would be there again, attempting to wipe the obvious worry from his face. Remus would smile and nod, before heading over to his bench and working on whatever project he had planned for the day. The exchange had been going for too long now, and the chances of stopping weren't in sight, so Remus just resigned himself to it. He didn't need the extra struggle of doing anything but resigning himself to facts.

The night took a long time to fade, the darkness growing and growing. Remus pulling the blankets closer and closer and slipping further into sleep as his headache felt less like people were waging World War III behind his eyes. He sighed in relief as he turned the pillow over and sunk his head into it, the pain finally easing into nothing but a dull ache and his sleep finally became something that could almost be described as restful.

The dream started with nothing more than a street. It appeared to be a sunny day, a strange thing in London's winter, but Dream-Remus seemed to be okay with it, tilting his head back and brushing the hair out of his eyes. He must need a haircut if it was too long, even in his dreams. Dream-Remus was walking down the street, it seemed vaguely familiar, but the shop names weren't recognisable. The further he walked, the more noise he heard. It started with cheerful chattering, sounding almost like the bakery, but that didn't last long. Soon, the noise was like he was at a live concert, rather strange for a seemingly peaceful London street, but then Dream-Remus turned a corner and there were what looked like hundreds of people, though they didn't exactly look like they were on their way to a concert. It looked more like a riot and Dream-Remus shied away from it, making to turn back to his peaceful street.

Suddenly he was encircled and fear flashed through his mind. James was there, his face nothing like it so often was, instead of a mischievous, but motherly, he looked as if he were going to war. Peter's kind, amusement filled expression had turned to fury. Dorcas looked downright menacing and Marlene, standing by her side looked ready to kill. Lily was standing tall and by herself, eyes flashing and Dream-Remus could have sworn her eyes flashed as red as her hair. And then there was Sirius, Sirius was there too and for a moment Dream-Remus was taken aback, Sirius didn't look angry or furious, but cold and more dangerous than anyone else there. More dangerous than the lines and lines of people behind his friends, more dangerous than the many weapons that everyone carried and more dangerous than the fact that Dream-Remus was surrounded. And it was then that Dream-Remus broken into a run. Where was he running? He didn't know. Zig zagging across the place, pushing through people, praying that this was all a dream. There were trees, there were fires, he didn't know what else until he fell, and until he snapped awake.

Breathing far too heavily, he heard the brash noise of his alarm going off and leant over to turn it off. Still shaken by his dream, he scanned the bedroom carefully before throwing the covers off and bringing his head to his hands, closing his amber eyes for just one more minute. And one minute it was, after that he was swinging his legs off the bed, stumbling his way over to the shower, fiddling with the taps and waiting until the water was finally warm enough to bear. Tossing his clothes to the floor, he stepped under the water and leant back against the wall, enjoying his five minutes of semi-relaxation before his morning really begun.

Ten minutes later, Remus was dressed, his teeth and hair had been brushed and he was making his bed. Hospital corners were a necessity and the sheets were pulled tight across the mattress. The painkillers were slipped into his bag and in another ten minutes he would be on the bus. One of the bonuses of working at a bakery meant there was no need for a rushed breakfast at home when he could simply enjoy the meal when he got there. Pulling a jumper on, followed by a jacket, over the top of the three other layers he had on — he had always run cold, making it a pain to go outside in winter — he was shoving a red beanie on, and a grey scarf, as well as grey gloves. Likely, he'd still be cold, but he knew from experience that if he wore anything more, he'd end up looking like a multicoloured marshmallow, and though he didn't care overly about his appearance, it did make it rather awkward to move.

Dressed and ready to go, he grabbed his keys and stepped outside, locking all three of the locks behind him. Checking them once, twice, three times. Slowly, he made his was down the stairs. Top floor apartment sounded cool when he found it, but soon enough, he realised that in a building that didn't have a working elevator, being four stories up wasn't exactly the most enjoyable thing at three forty-five in the morning. But that was okay.

Stepping outside into the cold, he shivered and picked up the pace, walking to the bus stop. The bus was meant to come at ten to four, but it was almost always late. The driver probably left late for his first stop. Treasuring the last few moments in bed and then taking his time to sip his morning coffee. He looked like a coffee-drinking sort of man to Remus. Then, he probably decided that he didn't need to leave straight away, he probably thought that no one would make it to the bus stop on time, it was so early, who wanted to? Remus hoped that he enjoyed whatever he did in the morning, because Remus himself never failed to get there at ten to four, and he always found himself wondering what exactly it was that the driver did to make him late every single morning.

Sure enough, the bus was there at 3:55 and Remus's nose and cheeks had gone red, his eyes watering a little from the sharp wind that seemed to be blowing even harder on this particular morning. Though, that was probably just because they were getting further and further into winter. Stepping onto the bus with a "good morning," and a tap of his Oyster, he walked down the bus and slid into his regular seat. The woman who sat in the row in front of him smiled, and he returned the smile with his own, he'd never found out her name, but she was there almost every day, as was he, and they often exchanged smiles. She seemed nice, though she often looked stressed. Her headphones were big and black and she was usually reading a book, or typing something into her phone. She was definitely a tea person, Remus had decided a couple of weeks ago. She sometimes carried a keep cup, but it was purple, so he couldn't tell what was in it, but he was sure that it was tea. She just seemed like a tea person.

Four-thirty and Remus was twenty steps away from the bakery. Yes, he counted. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven…

The curtains were shut over the front of the bakery, but there was light peeking out from underneath. It would have to be James, he was the only other one with a key regularly. Often they switched around, but it always ended back up with James. Pete was bound to lose it, putting it in a "safe place" and promising that he'd be more careful. Dorcas was fine with the key, but not so good with early mornings, so she did her very best to avoid opening up.

Curious to see who was there, Remus didn't stop to check if everything was okay before walking into the kitchen. And there was James, standing in all his glory. Accessorised with a pink apron, flour in his hair and icing on his nose by the looks of it. So absorbed in icing the cake he was working on, he didn't appear to notice Remus at all, even as he closed the door behind him. "Morning, James."

"Remus! Hey!"

"What are you icing? Is it an order?" Remus asked, racking his brain for what needed to have such complex decoration for that day. He couldn't remember anything that would need so much of James's time.

"It's not an order, no. It's a practice for Dorcas's cake."
"Oh wow, that's really impressive. We're having a party, I assume?"

"Yes, of course. I spoke to Marlene last night, apparently Dorcas is actually excited about her birthday, but doesn't want to make a fuss over it, so naturally, we're all going to make the biggest fuss over it."

"What sort of friends would we be if we didn't?" Remus grinned, stepping closer to look at James's intricate design. "So, what are we going to do with this cake? If it's going to be a surprise, we can't let Dorcas see it. And I know she's only getting here this afternoon, but I don't think that you, Wormtail and I can eat an entire cake."

"Ah, that's a good question. Maybe we can give it to someone? You know, one of our regular customers as a thank you sort of thing?"

"Why not, honestly, why not?"

"Great. Well, that's that sorted. When is Wormy getting here anyway?"

"I mean, he said he'd be here for the morning. He was going to make a bunch of cupcakes, it's Wednesday after all. You know, he always make the cupcakes on Wednesday, it seems."

"I think it's the one time he actually makes a plan."

"You could very well be right. Hopefully he does come, because I'm making croissants and danishes today."

"Orders?"

"Just the biscuit one, but I think Dorcas cut them all out yesterday and I'll just put them in the oven later."
"Awesome. Well, I'll be making cakes and brownies. Dorcas will come and make bread, I assume?"

"I've not a clue what she'll be doing, but she'll sort it out. She's good like that."

"That's true. Well, I've got to continue this. I guess you've got to get on with your pastries?"

"Mhm, I do," Remus replied, nodding slightly, taking one last glance at the cake, "thank you for organising the cake, by the way."

"Of course."

It wasn't long before Remus was wholly absorbed in creating the pastries to perfection. Peter's entrance and his "hi guys" was met only with a "hey" and a short nod before Remus turned back to the bench and continued his careful crafting. Each fold and roll, each little thing placed precisely. Biting his lip, he carried them over to the oven, making sure none of them slid even the tiniest bit. As soon as they were in the oven, he got to work creating the delicate pastries that needed to be baked in the lowest of heats. They would go in the oven just after everything else had come out, and the oven was still warm. Often he could almost turn the oven off completely, making sure they were at the perfect temperature. All his energy went into this, the morning pastry making, making sure everything was exact. He did the easier things after that was finished. Making cakes, biscuits and whatever else needed preparing for the next day, or for James's icing. That came after his early morning pastry making.

It was exactly 8:00 when the last pastries were finished, when Peter's cupcakes were iced, when James's last brownies were cut. In some sort of procession, they walked out of the kitchen, carrying trays and racks ready to be put on display. Cupcakes went on the top shelf, carefully placed in line with the hand made calligraphic names. Underneath them were the pastries and underneath them, went the cakes. On top of the counter there were biscuits. In baskets behind the till and hanging on the wall it was bread. The cheesecakes, both big and small, had their own little case to the side. It was all rather organised, or at least, they attempted to keep it that way. There had been occasions when they'd over catered and things got a little messy, with them trying to squeeze as much food in as physically possible.

8:05 and the first customer had arrived. It was Kingsley, as usual. And as usual, Peter was at the coffee machine, making Kingsley's coffee and James was serving up the blueberry danish that Kingsley came in to eat at least three times a week. It was a comfortable routine they all settled into. Pete at the coffee machine for the next few hours, James and Remus taking turns serving and going behind the scenes to bake some more. Customers came in often. People Remus had never seen, people Remus had seen a month or more ago and people that came every week, or even every day. They all mixed in together. The talk was gentle and generous, just background chattering. Every so often there was someone in tears, or someone who looked a little as if they might explode. If Remus could find the time, he liked to slip them an extra little thing with their order, hoping that it could cheer them up a little.

It was 12:00 and Remus was taking his first break of the day. He'd asked James if he could handle it and received a cocky "of course" in return. So with a grin, he'd slipped into the kitchen and propped himself against his counter, opening the window which had been the reason he'd claimed this particular bench. Closing his eyes, he relaxed, just for a moment, and he took a minute to just assess exactly how bad he felt. Head - okay

Chest - a little achy

Back - not bad

Hips - pretty good

Overall aching - moderate

Weakness in legs - eh

Overall, he was impressed. It was a good outcome, especially after the day before. He smiled to himself a little, he was going to take all the good days he could, even if they were only moderately good.

"Remus? Have you eaten? There's someone who wants to see you, can I send them in?" came Dorcas's voice from the doorway. Remus's eyes were still closed, but he didn't exactly feel the need to open them, not when it was Dorcas, she wouldn't care.

"Hey Dorcas, how are you? No, I haven't eaten. Uh, I suppose?"

"I'm good. Eat something then, you dork. Awesome."

"Glad to hear. How does not eating make me a dork? Should I be scared?" he asked, but she'd already left it seemed, because there was no reply. Opening his eyes, only because there was someone who was going to come in, he was surprised to be met with the face of Sirius, rather than Lily or someone wanting an order or something.

"Oh, hello."

"I see you're glad I'm here," Sirius said, or rather, drawled, that was the only way Remus could describe it.

"Just surprised. I didn't think I'd see you again, especially not today and definitely not in the kitchen."

"You're a funny man, Remus. Why would you not see me? I've tasted the food that comes from this bakery, nothing could keep me away now," Sirius announced, amusement splayed across his face. "And you know, there was a man I met here that I rather liked. Though, I'm not entirely sure if he liked me, or just my bike,"

Remus was speechless for a second. He wasn't particularly surprised about the food, he knew that Sirius had taken some cake, and Dorcas's cake combined with James's icing was particularly heavenly, so that wasn't particularly shocking. But the rest of it, well, he couldn't quite work out if Sirius was being, well, serious about it. Was he joking? Was he flirting? Was he simply making friendly banter? Remus had no idea.

"Oh, he only liked the bike, most definitely. He told me so last night. In fact, he barely even mentioned you, but the bike, well that was spoken about almost continuously," Remus replied, smirking down at Sirius. He hadn't realised just how much taller than Sirius he was, but he certainly did now.

"Ah well, liking the bike is better than liking nothing at all, I suppose," Sirius sighed, with a regretful flourish of his hands. "Perhaps I'll invite him for another ride, though it's possible that he wouldn't want to spend anymore time with me than he absolutely had to."

"Hm, that's a difficult one to discern —"

"Oh my god, you use the word discern in casual conversation?" Sirius half asked, half exclaimed.

"Yeah? You're the fancy, posh sounding one. What's wrong with discern?"

"Nothing, but oh my god. You're amazing."
"I'm glad you think I'm amazing. I'm not sure I'm inclined to say the same about you," Remus said, eyebrows raising, still looking confused.

"I'm wounded," Sirius clutched his heart with one hand, bringing the other up to his forehead, "I may just be dying from that awful attack."

"Oh dear, whatever shall I do?"

"Take me to the hospital you jerk!"

"Well, if I was the one dealing the blow, what makes you think I want to save you?"

"Cruel, heartless, monster!" Sirius exclaimed, crumpling to the floor in a dramatic pile. Remus wasn't exactly sure what to do with that except laugh, and so that's all he did.

"Rude," Sirius proclaimed, standing up, hands on his hips, which Remus was trying not to pay too much attention to. How did one have such slim hips? How was Sirius so slim as it was? Or rather, it wasn't the slimness that blew Remus away, but the sheer beauty of the man, there, he'd admitted it. Sirius was a beautiful man, and he had no business being that attractive, honestly.

"Not rude, not rude at all. Now, what do you want?"

"Now, that was rude. I just liked the bakery, and I liked your company. There are few people who I genuinely enjoy the company of. So, basically I came to bother you. I spent the morning trying to find a place to live and considering job options, so I thought I'd come here now that that was all finished."

"I see. Did you find somewhere to live?"

"Nope. But I'll work it out."

"Okay then. Well, shop closes at 4:00, so I can't really give you a whole lot of company, because I'll just be working."

"Do you work all day every day?"

"Yes, he does," James answered, entering the room and waving a hello to Sirius. "Hey Sirius. I didn't know you were here. Rem, Wormtail is, uh, not good. Is it okay if he goes home tomorrow?"

"Like, home-home?" Remus asked, eyebrows scrunched together.

"Yeah, home-home. Something's happened. He didn't want to mess up the shifts for anyone, but he sounds pretty distressed."

"Of course he can go home. We'll work something out. I'm here all day anyway."

"You shouldn't be. You know, you should take an afternoon off once a week or something. But, yeah I told him that we'd work it all out."

"I'll come out and tell him he's being an idiot. If he needs to go home, then of course he should. And no, James, I shouldn't take any time off. I've got evenings, that's fine."

"Sirius, tell him that he's being stupid?"

"No problem. Remus, that's a stupid reason. You're going to work yourself half to death," Sirius said, shaking his head at Remus.

"Sirius!" Remus was torn between laughing at Sirius, or swearing at him.

"What? James asked me to. But he's right, you know. Take an afternoon off sometime."
"Really? Anyway, Sirius, you're more than welcome to come around after we close today so you can get some actual company, but otherwise, I'm working. James, you can tell Peter that he can go whenever he needs, just to let us know when he'll be back."

"You come over to my place on Friday if you like? We have a, well, a book slash movie night. It depends what we feel like. And it generally ends up with us turning on a movie, but ending up just talking," James offered, shooting a sly grin over at Remus, "and yeah, I'll tell Peter. He'll be relieved."

"That sounds nice. But I don't want to intrude," Sirius replied, offering a smile.

"If James had offered, he's not going to let up on it. That's basically how he wrangled Marlene, who you haven't met, into being our friend," Remus said, grinning back at James before softening his expression into a smile that matched Sirius's.

"Well, it'd be an honour, then."

"Well! I'll see you then. I'll send you the address and stuff," James said, before bounding out of the room.

"Yes, he's always that energetic. No, I don't mind you coming on Friday. No, you can't stay here any longer. Yes, you can come after, or I'll see you Friday," Remus said, attempting to answer all Sirius's questions before he could ask them, he could just see Sirius overfilling with questions, he wasn't entirely sure how he knew, but no matter.

"Wow. Thanks. Alright. I'll come Friday, I've got stuff on this evening, sorry. Last couple of questions. Do you want me to pick you up on Friday? Is it really just the bike?"

"Sure, James won't be here, so it'll just be me closing up. Ah, that's a good question," Remus replied, grinning.

"Answer?"

"You'll never know."