Authors Notes: Just want to say thank you to Luna White for being the first person to review! Also, sorry for not updating at all, really. I've been spending a lot of time writing though, and you're about to have a whole bunch of chapters thrown at you.
The pain was getting worse and worse in his right shoulder, but Remus knew there was nothing he could do about it. The only thing to do was to take painkillers and he really, really hated doing that. So he just attempted to write the essay he had been putting off since last week. He really did need to get a move on with it, it was due next Monday after all. He'd started at the very least. He had some form of an outline, some form of planning in place. He always told people that the planning was what made it, that the rest would just write itself. And for the most part, he was right, but right now, it seemed that he was very, very wrong.
Maybe it was the throbbing in his shoulder, maybe it was the fact that he was almost falling asleep as he wrote, or maybe it was just that he couldn't get it to work. He honestly wasn't sure. He honestly didn't care. He just wanted it to work so he could go to bed. That's all he wanted, just to go to bed. There wasn't anything else he needed except to get this essay finished. Then everything except the reading would be finished and he could relax for the weekend. He wasn't going to be home tomorrow, he had to get this finished. He had to get this finished.
He groaned and leant back in his chair, tipping it so he was balancing on the back two legs. Safe, yes of course. Because it'd be a great idea to be injured on top of the near consistent pain he was in. Yes, yes, that sounded like a great idea. At least it'd be less mentally painful. Maybe. He was good at making things mentally painful, or so he was told.
No, no, he would focus on the essay. He would not get caught up thinking about anything else, anything at all. Just essay. Only essay. Must complete the essay.
—
The essay was finally close to being complete, only about two more pages to go and he'd finish that on Sunday when he could look over the essay and make sure he covered everything he needed to in the conclusion. Now, now he could finally sleep and eat and breathe properly. It was amazing how much lighter he felt after writing that, but despite the lightness, it had only added to the exhaustion. So there he was, exhausted, but light. It made so much sense, so, so much sense.
He only hoped that he made more sense than that in the essay or he'd end up sounding like when James wrote an essay a couple of years ago, he had been sleep deprived and mentally exhausted. There had been a lot going on in his life and it didn't help that he despised the topic, but that was no excuse for how badly written the essay was. Remus had had to restrain himself from personally rewriting the entire thing it was so bad. Normally Remus had attempted to prolong the time between when James asked if he could help — also called giving him all the notes, letting him cheat, or rewriting some of his work — and the time when Remus gave in and said yes, but when James had shown him that particular essay and asked for help Remus had almost jumped at the chance to help.
But that had been a one time thing and he was so, so very glad that it had never happened again. And he was sure his essay was better than that one, but it would be so very nice if as soon as submitted it, he could snap his fingers and there would be his grade. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work like that so instead he got busy making himself a peanut butter sandwich because it turned out that despite having a bakery full of food, all there was in his apartment was bread, peanut butter, potatoes, apples, orange juice, soy milk and tea. Oh, and chocolate, there was always chocolate. It probably wasn't the best lot of food to have, but he'd made worse work before. There'd been many weeks before where he'd lived off the bakery items that were going stale that he brought home and tea. So at least he had food other than bread, pastries and cakes. That was always a bonus.
Taking his sandwich with him, he climbed into bed, having long ago changed out of the pants he wore to work and into pajamas. He'd just spent hours on an essay, he'd wanted to be comfortable, never mind that it was only 5:00. But now it was eight and he really didn't see much of a reason to be awake other than to eat his peanut butter sandwich and read, so that's exactly what he did.
He refused to do the course reading after writing an essay so instead turned to To Kill A Mockingbird as he so often did. Not exactly an easy read, but a common one and as such, it was comfortable to go back and reread. He had a small pile of books like that, or rather two. Books that were so ingrained in his memory that he could reread them comfortably when he needed to read easily. There were maybe, eight, ten, books in the piles, all loved and brought with him wherever he moved. Some, like To Kill A Mockingbird, he'd had for years and years now, since he was a child. Then there were books like They Both Die At The End which had only been written a year or so ago, and that was nothing like To Kill A Mockingbird, and it was an easy read, it was just another YA book that had caught his eye, mostly because he'd seen a review for it on a LGBTQ website and while he hadn't actively been searching it out, it sounded interesting and so when he did see it, he was at the counter and paying for it. Some of the books had joined the pile almost immediately after he'd read them for the first time, some he'd waited until he'd read them three or four times. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd decided to make the pile, yes, it really was a pile, not a shelf. For two reasons. One, he had no bookshelf space left. And two, when you desperately needed something comforting to read, a pile next to your bed and a pile next to the couch was so much easier.
So he drifted back into the story, slowly forgetting about the stress that had been all consuming a little while ago. He knew he'd fall asleep soon, but that was the best way to fall asleep, wasn't it? To fall asleep while reading, there was something nice about it. You never had to worry about missing something or forgetting something like he so often did when he randomly fell asleep places, because you could wake up and see exactly what you were doing.
Eventually, he did fall asleep, his arms falling onto his chest, hands still holding the book. His golden-brown hair fell across his face and he didn't notice when the front door was unlocked and someone came in, knocking things over in their effort to be quiet, no, he was asleep now and nothing would wake him until his alarm in the morning.
Not even the dream that he wished he could wake up from. He'd been walking down the street in his dream when suddenly, there was everyone he was ever friends with, everyone he'd ever cared for, everyone he'd ever loved, whether platonically or romantically, they were all there. The people he loved now, the people he had loved. Dream Remus waved and called out, but not one person returned the wave or responded with words. He was either ignored or met with cold stares. Nothing, nothing showing any signs that maybe they ever loved him, maybe they didn't, but surely even if they didn't, they would be so cold? Dream Remus was confused and a little hurt, why weren't they hearing him. He walked over to someone, maybe they just didn't hear him. "Hello," he said, but they just ignored him, reading their book. He tried with someone else, but they only continued their conversation. Everything was so colourful, it seemed so alive, so incredible, but Dream Remus wasn't. He wasn't colourful, maybe he wasn't even alive. He looked down at his hands for a minute and if this had been anything other than a dream, he would've been confused. He was grey, and not in a sick way. In an old movie way. As were his clothes. He was grey. He was in black and white. Black and white amongst all these bright, colourful people. How did that happen?
—
The alarm went off long after Remus was awake. He'd been up for hours, though still hours after his dream. At least it wasn't a nightmare, he told himself, grimacing at his reflection in the mirror and pulling on a coat over his jumper and shirts. If he was up now, he may as well go to the bakery. The apartment was freezing, Remus hadn't even been into the living room/kitchen yet and that was where the heater was, and so nothing was warm. That was the thing about having such a small apartment, there was only one heater which was meant to warm the whole place up. Unfortunately, it was a rather shitty heater and so it barely made the air around it warm, but it took the chill off the place once Remus actually turned it on. But he hadn't turned it on because he had decided to take advantage over the fact that he had so much time and so had a shower that was at least ten minutes longer than usual. It was going to mean awful things for his bills, but it was one thing, and he clearly wasn't buying a whole heap of food so he'd manage.
It was 3:00 and he'd decided to catch the earlier bus rather than the one he usually did. Perhaps this bus driver would be on time and get to the bus stop at 3:10 like the timetable said, but who knew. Perhaps the bus that Remus usually caught was the 3:10 bus and he was even later than he'd thought, but he doubted that. Surely, surely he would get fired for that. He supposed he didn't really know, he didn't really know how the whole working as a bus driver thing went and he was rather glad about that. He didn't much fancy that as a job, though he had been considering getting another job, Sirius hadn't been wrong, he couldn't afford to pay another employee. It was one of the few secrets he had kept from James, obviously he'd kept it from Peter and Dorcas too, paying them enough, occassionally more than enough, but it wasn't rare that he put his own money back towards the bakery, it was his business after all, he did have to keep it running.
Lily kept offering to do the bookkeeping and the accounting, but he didn't want to put the pressure on her to keep the secret from James, and again, they couldn't really afford to hire her. He wanted to though, he hadn't all the accounting stuff, he absolutely despised it and it took up far more of his time than he would've liked, but that was the only thing he could do for now. Hopefully it would be sooner rather than later that he could accept her offer, but he couldn't now, he just couldn't.
The bus trip to the bakery was much the same at 3:10 as is was at 3:55, except for the fact that it was on time and there was no Tea Lady. Actually, there wasn't anyone except a drunk girl with another girl who was most definitely sober and smelt of coffee. There was the possibility that they were girlfriends, though they could also just be very touchy-feely, as Sirius would say. Other than them, the bus was empty and for the most part there was no one at the bus stops, the people who were there waved the bus on, clearly waiting for a different bus, though Remus didn't know how they could stand it, it was freezing.
Remus's guess about the two girls being girlfriends was proven correct when the sober one placed a small kiss on the drunk girl's lips as her girlfriend lay down on her lap. It was all quite sweet really, and it reminded Remus quite a lot of Dorcas and Marlene, though he couldn't quite make up his mind who would be which girl. He supposed it depended on the situation. He'd seen them both drunk, separately and together, he just hoped they weren't on too many buses at 3:20 in the morning while drunk. It wasn't generally advised.
—
It was dark. It was really, really fucking dark in the bakery without lights on. Of course it would be dark, it was 3:45AM and even in summer it wouldn't be light at that time, though it'd certainly be lighter than this pitch black room. It wasn't as if Remus didn't like the dark, it was just something to be aware of. Surely everyone was just that little bit more alert when it was dark because who knew what you could bump into, or who you could find. It was a bit of a mystery, but not in a good way, though not necessarily bad either. Either way, he needed to turn the lights on.
He made certain that he wasn't going to run into anything on the way to the light switch. When he did make it, he flicked the switch and squinted for a couple of minutes while he adjusted to the light again. He grinned once he finally did adjust to the light, there was going to be some actual time for him to get to work alone today. It seemed that his working alone time kept being interrupted. And while Sirius was surprisingly adept at baking and willing to learn which was always a helpful thing, it was good to have some time to work alone as well. He enjoyed working with the others, he enjoyed working with them very much otherwise they wouldn't be working at his bakery and he liked working with Sirius too, surprisingly enough, but he was glad that he got to be in the bakery alone.
The next hour was spent with the sleeves of his grey shirt rolled up and delicate pastry. He'd decided that he'd use the morning to make doughnuts and madeleines. The doughnuts were simply something they made every second day, but the madeleines were inspired by Sirius's French cooking, Remus supposed. Remus had always loved French pastries and desserts, but many were rather difficult to make, and rather time consuming as well. So while they were all in the beginning of working out how to operate a bakery, he'd stuck to the simpler things he knew they could make incredibly. That was where James's beautiful icing came in. Peter's perfect biscuits. Dorcas's amazing cheesecakes and bread. And Remus, well, he wasn't really sure what was so spectacular about his own work, but he enjoyed making pastries and he'd had positive feedback from friends and strangers alike, so that was something. Now that he knew a little more about how to run this thing, how much ingredients cost and all that, he wanted to begin to get in regular rotating menus and work on slowly adding more and more impressive pastries, he didn't particularly care if he had to work 18 hour days, he enjoyed it.
He was completely lost in baking when James came into the kitchen. He was busy making scrolls and croissants now, possibly he'd made too many scrolls, but that was alright, there were always plenty of options for leftovers. They never threw out food if they could help it, and generally they could help it. With both trays of scrolls in the oven, there wasn't really any room for the croissants, but that was alright.
"Morning, Rem," James said, his tone bright as always.
"Oh hello, James. Is it that time already?"
"Well, I'm here, so yes, I'd say so. How long have you been here?" James asked, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity as he shrugged off his jacket.
"Since about 3:30. I woke up early and decided I'd just come here. It'll be a productive morning," Remus replied, wondering if he could do any of the bookwork in this space of morning, possibly.
"God Remus, do you ever sleep?"
"Yes, of course. I went to bed at something like 9:30 last night. That's really quite early," he protested, continuing the conversation though he'd turned away to begin on the danishes, knowing James wouldn't mind.
"That's what? Four hours of sleep?"
I mean, normally I wake up at 3:00. So that's not too bad. What time do you go to sleep?" Remus asked, curious to see if the man who had once partied until ungodly hours actually went to sleep earlier than him now.
"I don't work this early everyday, you made sure that we all had even days, well almost even, someone comes in three times a week once every three weeks. You need more sleep than you get. You also need more time off than you get, I'm going to work out a way for you to get more time off. So, on the nights before those days, I go to sleep around 9:00, 9:30. It drives Lily crazy sometimes."
"Well, that schedule is going to change now that Peter's gone for who knows how long. Speaking of, we need to talk about who's going to make which things, I think it would make it a lot easier to have an actual list with it. And what would drive Lily even more crazy is sleep-deprived James so I'm glad you go to sleep so early."
"Oh yes, she'd definitely be driven crazy by that," James replied, chuckling a little. "Alright, well I'll get a move on with this considering you're already so far ahead."
"You do that."
The conversation was near constant, mostly from James, but Remus enjoyed listening. He'd always enjoyed listening which was likely the reason he had friends that were who they were. Very talkative, to say the least. With James's close to incessant talking and the multitudes of baking they were doing, the next three hours passed quickly and productively. James with his cakes, cupcakes, icing both them and the biscuits. Combined, the two of them made the breads and savoury pies, pasties and sandwiches. Remus finished off his danishes, croissants, madeleines and doughnuts. Everything was productive, which was mildly shocking, though Remus was brought back to the times of James and his pranks, the ones he got really serious about. The elaborate pranks that James spent hours on, plotting, drawing up plans. He had held bloody meetings for some of the pranks. It was what made James such a good baker, Remus knew, the fact that when he wanted to do something, he wanted it to be perfect.
And perfect it was. Quarter to eight and both boys were slowly bringing everything out from the kitchen and into the shop. Not for the first time, Remus was blown away by James's icing, the sheer glory of it, when it wasn't even for an order. Remus couldn't quite understand how he could bear to cut into it and serve it to people, but then again, what a waste not to eat it. He'd tried James's cakes many a time and since he was sixteen, there hadn't been one that wasn't amazing. There had been a few incidents during the first few years James had started to bake. They'd been eleven when James had attempted fancy icing, which had worked surprisingly well for a clumsy eleven year old, but in the process, he seemed to have forgotten about the actual cake and how that tasted. But, as James protested, it was aesthetically pleasing and that was half the fun. Remus and Peter had denied that thought until they'd drunk bottles and bottles of water, but that was alright, they were eleven and it was far more fun to make a mess in the kitchen than to worry about whether or not it tasted any good.
Soon everything was in its place, ready for the day. Tables set, counter clean, curtains pulled back, pastries, cakes, desserts, pies, pasties, breads and multitudes of other baked goods were set out and at 8:00 they were open and ready for the day. Dorcas would come that afternoon, and until then they would juggle both the baking and the actual customers. It was significantly easier to juggle days like today now than it was six months ago. Which had ended with a lack of pastries and a lot of people. Needless to say, they'd all agreed that they needed to sort it out sooner rather than later. And they did, though it took a few more attempts.
As was the custom, Kingsley came in for his coffee and danish. Something a little further from custom was the line of people in suits that followed him in. It wasn't as if they didn't often have people come in on their way to work, but this was an extraordinarily large line of people. In fact, Remus had counted as he was bound to do. Ten, there were ten of them. They were all chatting in loud, business-like tones, but clearly looking around the place as well. Remus had seen none of them before, and by the half covered shock on James's face, he hadn't either. A part of Remus wondered if they had actually followed Kingsley here, who looked very professional in his own suit. Perhaps that was a thing that business-people did, follow the first person you can find in a suit, they'll lead you to a good coffee shop. The thought was ridiculous, but entertaining at the least.
It was a busy next ten minutes. James taking orders and plating up food, Remus standing by the coffee machine and attempting to make coffees both quickly and well. Both were still shocked over the fact they had so many people in the shop at once, there was only a single table left as everyone sat down. It appeared that they came in pairs or groups of three and four. It seemed that they didn't all know each other, but no one came alone. Not even Kingsley who had only ever come in alone before. While a little daunting and a bit shocking, it was a good sort of shocking. Nothing wrong with having people come in. In fact, that was the aim of it all.
Normally, Remus had some form of conversation with Kingsley. They were friendly, if not friends. But clearly that wasn't going to happen today so he used the time between orders to plan the rest of the day. He enjoyed doing that, planning things, even when he knew there was no possible chance things would ever go to plan. It did mean that he did have a plan if somehow he needed one. But with James's "adventures", there wasn't a whole lot of time for planning, but that was alright. It was a long time ago that he had learnt to cope without plans. Thanks to James.
But today was Friday which mean that there was actually some form of plan that everyone followed. Those influenced by James and those who had escaped for just long enough alike all followed the same, or a similar plan. It was a simple enough plan, and one that had proven to be adaptable time and time again. All it consisted of was James, Lily, Dorcas, Marlene, usually Peter and of course Remus all finishing work at separate times and then meeting at James's house at some point in the evening. There wasn't much of a plan from there, though they'd all attempted to create one, including James.
Remus snapped out of his daze of thoughts when someone came up to order and Remus turned to find James, only to realise that he was no longer there. And speaking of timing, of course the customer that had stepped up to look at the pastries was exactly who Remus did not want to see. Of course, of course he couldn't just have the day. Just the one day. No, no of course not. Remus was almost bitter, why had he expected anything else?
"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice low, but his tone holding a certain power to it. He didn't dare look up, hoping, hoping that he wouldn't recognise him.
"Four of the chocolate doughnuts. Take away, thanks," came the reply, and Remus barely contained the shudder as the man handed over the money.
"Of course." He took the money, placing in the till before placing the doughnuts in a box, thankful that he knew where everything was enough that he didn't need to look up and around for anything. Handing the box over to the man he gave a quick nod and a "thank you", before sighing in relief when the man walked away in the brisk manner Remus knew so well. That casual briskness that Remus had always wanted to replicate, but only managed as a sort of hurried limp.
The next hour was a blur, a blur of customers, of pastries, of coffee. Of people's conversations, of laughter, of music. Of words half heard and automatic motions. Of orders taken and written down, of eyes scanning and finding, of the processes that he knew so well coming back so easily. James came back at some point and resumed his place at the till, allowing Remus to fade back into the mechanics of the coffee machine, the simple process of packing things up for people to take away.
Slowly the blur eased back into something Remus could grasp and see and feel again. It was a relief, when he could consciously carry out the actions that he'd previously been doing on autopilot. It was a relief when James spoke to him and he could continue the conversation further than a nod or a brittle yes or no. It was slowly gaining control and it was relieving. He wasn't all too sure of the time, but it must have been an hour at least, maybe more. Which meant it was something like 9:30, maybe a little later. Dorcas would be there in half an hour and then both she and James would leave at 3:00. It was a short day for Dorcas, but it wasn't often like that. She'd asked to leave early today weeks ago, and Remus had been more than happy to oblige. She was a hard worker, they all were. It was important that they had the opportunity to balance work and life. It was important that they took care of themselves, Remus was only too happy to help.
—
4:00 and the day was almost complete. It had been consistently busy all day and so very helpful when Dorcas had arrived, one of them in the kitchen baking at all times, often two of them. There hadn't been a day so busy in awhile now, and Remus had forgotten how exhausting they could be. It was worth it though. It would make the purchase of next week's ingredients so much easier. Mentally at least. He always paid everyone first, then they worked out what they could buy. Often what they planned to bake the next week linked arm in arm with what they had earned that week, so every extra sale was important. Remus didn't often tell them, because he suspected that he'd never hear the end of it, but he waited until everything had been sorted out to accept his own pay, but maybe this week he could do it in the order that James would have commanded him to.
Cleaning up was easy, it always was. Wiping down tables didn't take long, and stacking things up was simple. The kitchen was kept mostly clean except for a few dishes which didn't take huge amounts of time. Putting away ingredients was simple. It was all going well and easy when Remus heard the door swing open. Immediately he set down the bag of flour he had been holding.
"Who's there?" he called out, he knew he voice was deep and mildly threatening, or so he'd been told. He'd been thankful for that fact ever since Lily had told him and James and Peter had confirmed. He lived alone and not in a great part of town, a threatening voice was helpful, especially considering in all his jumpers he didn't look particularly threatening.
"It is I, Sirius. Come to take you away on my noble steed, her name is Motorbike," Sirius announced, gesturing grandly, grinning all the while.
"Hello Sirius. How are you?" Remus asked, rolling his eyes at the man, attempting to disguise his relief that it was Sirius as he let himself sink back onto the bench a little.
"That, darling, is a stupid question to ask. How are you?"
"Are we playing that game, are we? Darling?," Remus asked, laughing a little, his eyes bright.
"It is a stupid question!"
"Alright then. How's the motorbike? I bet you would talk about that for hours."
"Of course I'd talk about her for hours, but don't we need to get going?"
"No one particularly cares what time we get there, but sure, why not? Did you bring stuff to stay the night?" Remus asked, wondering just how far James's invitation had extended.
"No, no I didn't. I didn't realise you all slept there? He did send me the address though, and instructions on how to get there, which I was very relieved by, I might add," Sirius replied, and he did look relieved that James had included instructions.
"I could have instructed you, but yes, trust James's directions first. He has a strangely good sense of direction for someone who pays little to no attention."
"I'm glad I'm listening to someone who's good at giving directions, but let's go now. I refuse to be late for the first official movie, book, talking, sleeping night that I've been invited to. I do expect to be invited to the rest."
"Ah, well you see, that all depends on how this first one goes. So let's see if you pass the test."
"If I got through school and aced all the exams, I can pass this test. I'm sure of it."
"If you say so. Let's find out."