A/N: Whee! Another chapter. Jeez, for 5 pages it sure took a bloody long time to write.  I have no idea where this story is going, and almost gave up on it, or would have if I didn't know Kirsty would beat me to death with grapes and feed me to her geese *dodges grapes* Thank you once again to everyone who reviewed. *massive huggle* you all rock beyond comprehension.  And once again, this is not intended to be slashy, but some parts definitely could be read that way.  I don't intentionally write slash though, I just read it, so don't go flaming me if R/S isn't your thing.  I think they're better as friends but as I've said before, it's your choice to read it how you want.  That's the point of stories, isn't it? To be interpreted by the audience according to their own personal opinions and such (sorry, critical literacy in English. Bleh!) And now on with the angst! Angst angst angst! Yay!

Chapter 6:  It Never Ends

Remus stood at the side of the road, every muscle in his body tensed, ready to leap to his friend's aid.  But in his heart, he knew it was too late now.  It was all up to Sirius.  Now more than ever Remus cursed his wolfish form.  He needed to be human again, to speak, to scream, to explain to Sirius that he never meant to forsake him.  He wanted to explain.  But he had to wait for dawn to come, and only the barest hint of light on the horizon was visible.  Dawn would not come in time.  Everything seemed to slow down, unfolding before him.  Sirius glanced back, fixing him with a pleading gaze.  His massive black shape was silhouetted in the surrounding golden glow of the headlights.  Defeated, Remus let his body relax, his head lowered, still watching hopelessly as his friend's fate was decided. 

Sirius saw his friend relax and hang his head and immediately the voice faded to a mere background noise, easily ignored.  Thinking rationally for the first time in days, he made his decision.  He wasn't going to die.  Not like this.  He hadn't passed through hell and risked life and limb to meet his end with the bumper of a car.  He hadn't risked it all for Remus and Harry to leave them now, even if they may have given up on him.  He leaped back towards the spot where his friend stood.    

Tires screeching, the car swerved.  The driver wrenched at the wheel, trying to avoid the creature in the middle of the road.  Sirius jumped out of the way, claws scrabbling on the wet road as he maneuvered himself out of harm's way.   

That unimaginable bastard! Remus thought, tensing up again.  That unbelievable prat! He didn't know whether to be happy, or angry, or anything. But in that moment sheer elation took hold and he leaped forward, running towards Sirius, who was standing, gasping for breath, on the other side of the road.  But he never got that far.  He stumbled, slipping on the damp road.  The last thing he heard was the screeching of tyres and Padfoot's bark.  Light surrounded him and a burning pain flared in his side.  Then there was nothing.

The driver swore, still wrenching desperately at the wheel, fighting for control of his vehicle.  He felt an impact, something big hitting the front.  The bloody dog was on the other side of the road, barking itself stupid, so what the hell had he hit?

~  *  ~

Sirius felt nothing.  He heard nothing.  No outside noises, or whispers in his head.  He only saw Remus lying in a bundle of damp grey fur in the middle of the road.  The car sped off into the night, and Sirius dimly registered the red glow of its taillights fading in the gloom. 

His legs were shaking with exhaustion and cold, but he forced them to carry him the small distance to his friend's side.  But that was all.  His legs folded under him and he collapsed on the road, his head resting on Remus' side.  There was blood on his fur and the wolf's hind legs were hideously twisted and broken.  Sirius whimpered, a pitiful, barely audible sound deep in his throat.  Remus shivered, violent tremors shaking his broken body, and Sirius' eyes snapped open.  He was alive!  His friend's side rose and fell with shallow, irregular breaths.  And despite being aware that each one could be the last, Remus' ragged breathing was the most beautiful sound Sirius had ever heard.  It gave him hope.

Now he was faced with a major problem.  The faint grey light on the horizon had grown stronger, and dawn was approaching.  If Remus stayed here, he ran the risk of being discovered.  And some unsuspecting muggle would be faced with a half-man, half-wolf monstrosity, or simply find a half dead, completely naked man in the middle of their street. And it would take one glance for a wizard and they'd know.  The ministry would be alerted and Remus would be imprisoned.  And that was the best case scenario.

Thinking fast, Sirius transformed.  The first thing he needed to do was keep Remus warm.  He laid a hand gently on his side, feeling the wolf shiver in the cold.  Gritting his teeth against the chill wind that assailed his skin, he took off his shirt and cloak and gently wrapped them around the battered body.  Now he had to move, and move fast.  Still exhausted, he once more forced his body to work, slowly lifting the massive creature.  Sirius ignored the pain and began to walk, stumbling under the wolf's weight.  But he didn't make a sound of protest.

"I'm sorry Remus," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."  He couldn't think of anything else to say.  But he refused to let his emotions get the better of him yet.  He had to get Remus home.  The sky was getting lighter. 

At last, after what seemed like hours, Sirius stumbled through the gate, gasping for breath.  He was freezing, trembling with cold and exhaustion.  He somehow made it inside and upstairs.  Barely making it before his arms gave out, Sirius staggered into Remus' room and dropped the motionless form onto the bed.  Shock began to set in, and Sirius himself sat down on the floor, leaned his head against the bed and let blessed darkness surround him.  It was a long time before he heard the voice again.  He never even saw the first rays of dawn creep into the room. 

~  *  ~

The changes began slowly, with the thinning of fur, followed by the lethal claws retracting, leaving blunt nails and bloody fingers.  Paws lengthened into hands and feet, the long wolfish snout receded into an increasingly human face while sharp teeth shrank and shifted.  Soon the only visible traces of the wolf were a few scattered patches of thin fur and two tiny protruding canines.  These too vanished.

Remus was human once more, lying beneath Sirius' damp cloak.  The transformation may have erased all external traits of the werewolf, but it could not undo the damage.  Wounds reopened, bleeding again, and half-healed fingers weakly clenched on the blankets.  Remus' thin form shivered beneath the ragged cloak, but he didn't wake, not yet.

Images flashed before his eyes, playing like silent movies in his mind.  Angry red scars marred pale flesh. The hand that bore them shook uncontrollably while the fingers were stained with blood. Dark eyes, void of tears, looked up at him from behind a curtain of unkempt black hair.  There was so much pain in those eyes…so much pain. But no tears. The knife glinted in the sunlight. Blood stained the blade and the grass around it. Sirius said nothing…

Black eyes glittered in the headlights.  The golden glow struck the droplets still clinging to black fur, creating a glittering aura of jewels around the defeated creature.  There was pain in those eyes, pain and fear.  But then they changed.  A light returned to them…

Tires screamed sending up plumes of water as the worn rubber sought a grip on the slippery asphalt. A deft leap and some fancy footwork and Sirius was safe. He leapt forward, joy and relief seizing his heart and driving away all else. He wanted to join Sirius, who stood on the other side of the road, safe, and so close, so very close…Light blinded him and agony flared in his side.  Bones crunched, the sound drowning out the frantic barks that seemed so far away…

Black eyes watched him, hovered over him…so much pain… 

Bleary eyes snapped open.  Remus gasped, biting his lip in a futile attempt to block out the pain and the scream that was fighting to get out.  It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, and his entire body seemed to burn with unbearable pain, but it was his legs that were the worst.  The bones had been shattered by the impact, and the transformation had caused them to shift, causing more damage.  It was an agony that burned into his brain.  He tried to breathe and pain flared in his cracked ribs.  Red flashes blazed across his vision and he bit down on his lip again, tasting blood.  One word filtered through the painful haze. Sirius. He had to save Sirius. He had to protect him. It was his job. It was his responsibility.  Sirius wasn't himself.  Sirius was hurt. Sirius was…here. 

~  *  ~

It was the sound of a pained gasp that first alerted him.  Sirius slowly opened his eyes, squinting as the early morning light assailed them.  He felt the blankets shift as a hand unseen clutched at them.  Slow and groggy and still cold, Sirius stood up, wincing as he placed his weight on his trembling legs.  His arms felt weak and useless and hung limp at his sides. 

Remus looked passed him, not really seeing, his hazel eyes glazed with pain.  He was breathing in shallow, rapid gasps and his hands clenched and unclenched on the blankets and cloak.  His lip was bleeding.  Sirius couldn't begin to imagine what kind of agony his friend was in.  He knew that, should a werewolf be injured in their canine form, that pain is increased when they become human again.  The bones shift, shrink, and joints reverse in the change.  Broken bones will splinter.  Tiny fractures will cause unimaginable agony.  Wounds will become deeper.  Sirius tried to ignore the deep gash on Remus' leg, protruding from beneath the cloak.  One of the bones must have punctured the skin when he'd changed.

Remus groaned, squeezing his eyes shut against a fresh wave of pain. He smiled weakly though.  Somewhere in his mind, through the haze and the dizziness, he registered Sirius' presence.  And somehow, to him, this meant that even though he was hurt god knew how badly, it was going to be okay because Sirius was there and he was alright.  That was the whole point, wasn't it? And it felt good to know that he wasn't alone.  He closed his eyes and let blackness take hold.  The pain faded and his grasp on the blanket relaxed a little.  He felt a light touch on his arm, gentle and comforting, and he let his consciousness slip away again.

~  *  ~

Sirius placed a hand on Remus' arm, trying to offer some small comfort.  He felt the muscles relax beneath his fingers, and Remus began to calm down.  His breathing became a little less labored and he sank into unconsciousness once more.  It was a moment before the complicated nature of this situation finally hit home.  Remus needed help.  But if anyone found out Sirius was there, he'd be whisked away to Azkaban.  And Remus would soon follow.  That or he'd get The Kiss then and there, while he was crippled and helpless.  There was only one answer, really.  Dumbledore.

Sirius reluctantly left the room. The voice had returned again, and Sirius paused.  They'll really take you away now. You could have killed him. They won't let you stay. He sighed. He knew. There was no way they'd let him stay after this.  Remus could have died.  And it would have been his fault.  He clenched his fist and ignored the voice for now, but it was always there, a constant droning in his ears.  It didn't matter where he ended up now.  Remus was injured, because he was stupid and selfish.  And Sirius had to make it right somehow, no matter what happened to him after that. 

With new determination, he walked towards the fireplace.

~  *  ~

It was only Madam Pomfrey's complete trust in Dumbledore that stopped her from running away from that house and turning them both in.  But she was an understanding woman, with a heart of gold, and if Albus said that Sirius Black was innocent, and that she would be safe, then who was she to argue?  He'd never led her astray before.  And Poppy Pomfrey could hardly bare the sight of anyone suffering unnecessarily.  So, while Albus took Black outside, she went to work.

Her patient's whole lower body was mangled horribly, broken and bruised.  The legs would take a few days to mend, and there were several broken ribs that would take time to heal.  There were nasty cuts everywhere, but with a wave of her wand and a few choice words, they closed and faded and soon disappeared all together.  Once she had done what she could, she stood back, observing her patient.  He lay unconscious beneath the thick blankets, one hand still clutching Sirius' cloak.  She'd tried to take it, to throw the ragged, unhygienic thing away, but he had refused to let it go.  What could have happened to him? Albus had typically been infuriatingly vague in his explanation, but from the looks of it, he had been hit, hard, by something very large and heavy.  But that wasn't for her to find out.  Her job was completed for now and with a shrug, she turned on her heel and bustled out.

~  *  ~

"Sit," Dumbledore commanded.  Sirius sat. Dumbledore pulled up a chair for himself and sat opposite him.  He peered over his spectacles at Sirius, who was bent forward, holding his head in his hands.  Dumbledore sighed and shook his head.

"Sirius?"

He looked up slowly, staring blankly at the old professor through a curtain of tangled black hair.  Their eyes met, and Dumbledore was shaken by what he saw in them.  So different now from the last time they'd met. 

The first time he'd seen Sirius since his escape, there had been a fire in those sunken eyes that had been almost frightening.  It was bloodlust, rage, and desire for revenge.  There was very little else.  No compassion or fear ever entered that fearsome gaze, save for Harry and his friends.  Then, during the previous year, there had been a spark, a glimmer of hope for better things to come, and he would laugh again.  He had nothing but concern for Harry, and anger for what his godson had been put through, but there was no sign of the vicious, predatory rage. 

He remembered even further back, having Sirius and his friends in his office.  He remembered lecturing them, trying to keep his amusement hidden.  They obviously made no such effort, as they would grin proudly and snort with barely contained laughter, exchanging triumphant looks.  Sirius' eyes would shine then.  There had been a light there, in all of them.  But time has a way of smothering such things, and all those lights were fading. 

Sirius' dark eyes now reflected the barest of emotions.  Pain and guilt haunted the shadowed eyes, creating a blank void.  The eyes are the window to the soul, it is often said, and one looking into that haunting gaze would see that that soul was being slowly chipped away, and would never be whole again.

"What happened yesterday?" Dumbledore broke the uncomfortable silence.  Sirius averted his eyes again.  His fingers strayed to his wrist, toying with his sleeve.  He'd had time to change before Dumbledore's arrival, and his arm was once again covered.  He made no reply.  He began to scratch idly at the bandage beneath the sleeve of his jumper.  He thought the old man didn't notice, but the sleeve rode up a bit with the movement of his arm, showing the tiniest bit of the rough bandage, stark white against the black material.

"Sirius," Dumbledore prodded.  That haunting, empty stare was fixed on him again.  Dumbledore peered at the man, blue eyes serious.  He nodded reassuringly and Sirius took a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry," he began.

A/N: Stuff is actually happening now! Woohoo! It may not be all that riveting but it's stuff all the same. There ya go, Kirsty and Keeley, I did it. Another chapter. You happy now? *flees evil geese* And now for the obligatory pitiful shaking of the review tin. *pitifully shakes review tin* Pweese? Happy Birthday Sarah!