Angel

Summary: Just Remus, and a soliloquy in the dark. Post Order of the Phoenix.

Rating: PG – 13, for rather unhappy story matter, I suppose.

Disclaimer: These people aren't mine, nor is the song. Enough said.

AN: Oh, wow… It's been a while, has it not? Anyway, please review and let me know about this piece, as I am not sure at all if it's decent.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Spend all your time waiting for that second chance

For a break that would make it okay

There's always some reason to feel not good enough

And it's hard at the end of the day

I need some distraction or beautiful release

Memories seep through my veins

Let me be empty and weightless and maybe

You'll find some peace tonight…

*~*~*~*~*~*

Remus Lupin wished people would stop asking him if he was okay. He was not okay, not anymore. Nor, he suspected, would he ever be 'okay' again. Not since Sirius…

The shock of having Sirius returned to him after twelve years in a place worse than Hell for a crime he had not committed, and then being taken away so soon again… it was all becoming too difficult to bear. It was almost like losing all three of them again, he thought, casting his mind back to that terrible moment nearly fifteen years ago. But this time…this time there would be no deliverance of Sirius... this time gone was really forever.

Remus gazed absently out the window of his country house, lost in his thoughts. The Dog Star looked back at him, burning cold and bright and indifferent. Remus felt a deep aching in his chest.

Padfoot….

Oh, how he wanted to lie down and die. Just die, and forget everything that was happening. Forget that they were at war, forget Voldemort. Too much, too much, this cross he now had to bear without Sirius was too damn much.

The Order was sending him daily owls now. Asking for his return to London. Every day he told himself that he should be there, and every day he tried to force himself to go. But he knew he wouldn't be able to set foot in Sirius's old home, knowing that his best friend would not be there to greet him.

*~*~*~*~*

In the arms of the angel

Fly away from here

From this dark, cold hotel room

And the endlessness that you feel

You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie

You're in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort here…

*~*~*~*~*

Tearing his gaze away from Sirius's namesake, the star that would offer him no comfort, Remus cast his eyes around and let them rest on a small framed photograph on one corner of his desk. He stared. Smiling and waving back at him were Sirius and James.

Oh, God, how they had thought they were invincible then. But maybe, Remus thought almost hysterically, maybe if they had been smarter…maybe they could have seen through Peter…maybe James would be alive…maybe if they had been wiser…less rash… maybe Sirius wouldn't have done something so damned stupid…maybe he would still be here… maybe…

Oh, no, no no no no nonono…

His eyes never straying from the image of his best friends, Remus let out a choked sob. Gone, they were gone…

Reaching out with a shaking hand, Remus pulled the picture closer. When the first tear hit the glass, Sirius and James looked curiously up. Another tear fell, and then another, until both images were distorted.

For the first time in fifteen years, Remus Lupin put his head down on his desk and wept bitterly.

*~*~*~*~*~*

So tired of the straight line

And everywhere you turn

There's vultures and thieves at your back

The storm keeps on twisting, keeps on building the lie

That you make up for all that you lack

Is this sweet madness, or this glorious sadness

That brings me to my knees?

*~*~*~*~*~*

Sometime later, perhaps minutes, perhaps hours, Remus opened his eyes. The tears had gone from the glass in the picture frame. Sirius and James began to wave at him again.

Why those two? Why? They had the most to give, the most life… James had a family… and Sirius had the whole world…

Why should he be the one damned to grieve?

Remus had not felt this way in fifteen years. The loss of Sirius had ripped open a gash in him, and out of that gash, grief for Sirius, and fresh grief for James had poured. And…and grief for himself.

He was the only one left again.

*~*~*~*~*

In the arms of the angel

Fly away from here

From this dark, cold hotel room

And the endlessness that you feel

You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie

You're in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort here…

*~*~*~*~*

~~Fin