Azkaban stands in the middle of an island. It wears a man down, breaks him so that he's only a shell of his former self. Azkaban has turned Sirius Black into a bitter, sadistic shadow.
But it is not the deep, treacherous water surrounding it that holds a man to this prison, it is the Dementors. Dementors fill those shells of men with guilt and an endless sea of hopelessness. The guilt gnaws while the hopelessness drowns. Sirius Black does not find himself drowning in despair, but rather the memories of happier times. It is these memories that break him more than the guilt. Because it is these memories that show him how truly happy everyone was before all this (a vague reference to Halloween night that he usually describes with an uneven wave of his hand while he talks to himself of things he no longer remembers) even despite the creeping darkness. And he reminds himself that it is his fault everyone's lives shattered with just the parting of his lips.
He has fallen into a familiar pattern, one that threatens to falter with each passing day when the shadow of a memory tears away at his decaying heart. One step, he falters when the Dementors come. Two steps, regains composure. Three steps, he falls, bearing the burden of his painful memories. He dances around the guilt like he used to skirt around Moony when he realized he was first in love with him. (Moony, a name he clutches to in the shadows of his mind but when the Dementors hover over his tormented body, Moony brings back memories that claw, tear and rip like the werewolf.)
When he's curled up in a cold, dank corner of his cell, he murmurs to no one but himself about rushed kisses, clasped hands, dying fires and early mornings. Tattered robes (too threadbare to keep the cold from permeating his pores, leaving his bones aching and his heart too cold to beat) cling to his body like he clings to the good memories of Moony, the ones that give him hope. But the blue ink of Azkaban tattoos his body, claiming him as a prisoner of despair and guilt. No time for innocence or shy glances under shadowed lashes. There is only time for faltering dances and the cold rattling breath that leaves him a crumbling man.
Azkaban leaves Sirius bitter. It gives him time to think about betrayal and death and morbid things that he wouldn't have thought about if he had been anywhere else. Azkaban makes Sirius wish that he were dead. That he remained James and Lily's Secret Keeper and died for them instead of dying from a broken heart. He'd go down more valiantly in history that way, instead of as a coward, a murderer…a traitor.
Sirius wishes that he could have seen the dark flicker of anticipation and hope in Peter's eyes when he told James about his change of plans. He wishes that he noticed Lily's look of apprehension as she clutched Harry tighter to her chest, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. And he wishes that Remus would at least come visit him in Azkaban. Brave the heartache and despair and just see the broken man he has become to give him strength once more.
Remus visits Sirius in Azkaban once. He stands outside Sirius' small cell, watching him mutter in his sleep and claw with ragged dirty nails at the concrete floor as if trying to get away from some unseen force. Remus watches Sirius suffer. He sees the confident, handsome boy that he had known so well crumble.
"Not so confident now, are you Sirius?" Remus murmurs. "Serves you right, you bastard." Then he leaves, feeling empty and far from absolved.
Remus always thinks and drinks coffee at his kitchen table in his flat that is too small for two people to live comfortably in. But it is all he can afford. He works two jobs just to get enough money to pay for the rent.
Every morning he takes his coffee with two sugars and no milk. Just the way Sirius liked it. Remus does not like coffee and he thinks that it is too bitter but Sirius liked it and Remus cannot untangle himself from memories of Sirius.
It's been years since he visited Azkaban. He doesn't feel as though he can see Sirius again with sunken eyes that lack warmth and compassion and tangled hair that he can no longer run his fingers though. He does not hate Sirius anymore, not sure if he ever hated him. Only wishes that he hates him. But he can't hate someone he loves.
He wishes that he had been bolder, more confident in his youth (the years keep fading as though they were yesterdays and he feels as though he's growing too old too fast and maybe all he needs is Sirius to feel young again. Oh god, Sirius—) and maybe Sirius wouldn't have ever suspected him. And if he was let in on the secret instead of Peter, James and Lily wouldn't be dead and Sirius wouldn't be crazy and if only Remus had said the right things, or if only he eyes did not speak of mistrust and false hopes (because he's been betrayed far too many times to take things like trust lightly anymore) life would've been worth living for.
So when Dumbledore tells him that Sirius has escaped and is heading for Hogwarts, for Harry, Remus doesn't know what to wish anymore. But packs up his bags and heads for Hogwarts, a reminder of the youth he has forgotten.
Gulls cry out a solemn tune, one all too familiar to Sirius' heart, the song that he dances to. There's too much water soaking Padfoot's fur coat as he stumbles to shore, his whole body aching. But he struggles onward, on to Hogwarts to find the traitorous rat that ruined his life and on to find the one person who could piece his life together once more.
The Shrieking Shack holds more memories than Remus and Sirius can count. So when they find themselves, arms wrapped around one another not tight enough, they can't help but feel overwhelmed by the close proximity of the other and the memories they bring with them. Sirius can feel the loneliness and distraught slowly ebb away from Remus. Remus can smell rotting flesh mingled with sweat and dirt but he does not care because Sirius is here and he is innocent. Innocent of not only the crimes he was accused of, but of the crimes Remus had silently put him on trial for.
Together, they expose the web of lies and betrayal that had torn their lives apart. They want to kill Peter together, the man who once was their best friend, but Harry stops them.
"I don't reckon my dad would've wanted then to become killers—just for you," he snarls as an explanation to Peter.
Remus forgets to take his Wolfsbane potion and he does not get to see Sirius for another year until he shows up at his doorstep, tangled black hair plastered to his face in the rain.
They spend the year rediscovering one another. Sirius finds scars on Remus' body, ones he does not recognize and instantly feels guilty. He traces them with his fingertips, gentle touches dancing upon gnarled skin, hoping he can memorize them. He wants to understand their story, how Remus got it and where, so that he feels as though he was there.
Remus discovers that Sirius still feels the effects of Azkaban and holds him tighter when he whimpers in his sleep, still troubled by mistakes and guilt. Remus kisses Sirius' forehead when he drags his clean and shortened nails down Remus' arms just like he clawed at the concrete of his cell, leaving scars that Sirius feels guilty about, even though he's there to watch them form.
When Snape barges into Grimmauld Place, a fury of black robes, shadows, and too many secrets, Remus begs Sirius to stay. But Sirius does not like being told what to do and he does not like being a prisoner once more. He is determined, too fierce and bitter from twelve years in Azkaban. He will not let Harry die like James did, when he can do something to prevent another tragedy. But he cannot prevent another tragedy from occurring, one that no one sees coming.
Remus remembers flying spells and billowing robes. He remembers taunts and a solitary red beam of light flying straight towards Sirius. Remus watches, paralyzed as Sirius tumbles, falls like the broken man he is, through the veil. Remus has to grab a hold of Harry to prevent him from making a mistake, though his own heart cries desperately to follow Sirius.
"He can't come back, Harry. He can't come back because he's d—"
"HE—IS—NOT—DEAD!"
And Remus truly wishes that Harry is right but deep down inside, he knows that Sirius really isn't coming back (there are more ways to destroy a man besides death and Remus feels as though he's finally broken).
Sirius feels himself stumbling backwards into a void. He sees the look of horror on Harry's face and the look of defeat on Remus'. Falling…falling, he crashes into oblivion. Finally, he is free.