'You never visit anymore."

Sirius says it; his lips turn slightly upward at the corners, smirking, so that James knows he's not really mad. Not that James was worried about it in the first place.

He misses it, Sirius does, James being there, laughing, talking…just being there.

The apartment is small, but Sirius has always liked it that way. Easy to keep and small, so that no one really cares how much he lets the dirt build up. There are a few cracks that run along the walls, and some wonky plaster and peeled wallpaper that may or may not at some point have been floral. He loves this place, cruddy carpet, old sofa and all.

Sirius watches as his best friend collapses onto the sofa in question, putting his feet up on the table, and Sirius grins inwardly at that as he rolls his eyes.

"Get your feet off my furniture." He insists with a smile, eyes flashing, challenging.

"Come off it, Pads, no fair asking me to keep my feet off anything, while there are unidentified stains on the carpet. My delicate, clean feet won't take it." James raises an eyebrow, and slouches further down. Sirius can't keep the grin off his face this time. He misses James, but he knows he doesn't need to say it out loud. James knows.

"You, sir, are insulting my housecleaning." He says, in mock offense, choosing a spot on the rug, and plopping himself down.

James nods rigorously. "Yes. Yes, I am." He brings a hand up to his head, and drags it through the back of his hair. This is a familiar James twitch, and though it was once annoying, it's welcome now. Sirius scoffs at the comment.

"I mean, really, Sirius. You could do a charm, or something." James insists, motioning around. Sirius shrugs.

"Like it this way."

"You would."

"I do."

"Good."

"Good." Sirius finishes. But he can't leave it at that. "It's easy for you to say, having a nice, convenient wife to do your dirty work for you." James scoffs, leans over and picks up a magazine from Sirius' table.

"Lily would have your head for saying that."

Sirius throws his hands up in defense.

"No, anything but that. I'd have a go at you over it, but that woman's loony. She'd kill me, and I was never one to go into a fight I couldn't win."

James rolls his eyes.

"Oh, no." he snorts, "not event that time when Shacklebot ate your last chocolate frog…"

"Hey! One should never disrespect a man by taking his chocolate. It's just not done, Prongs." Sirius lies back on the floor, stares up at the ceiling, grinning and remembering.

"Of course not," James assures, "that was so much worse than when he took my girlfriend."

"Well, no harm was done there, I mean, you've got her back, married her, happily ever after and all that, while my frog is lost forever. Forever, James…ow!" An apple that used to rest on the table, was now bouncing along the floor, having made direct contact with the side of Sirius' head.

"Sod off, mate!"

It's the times like these that Sirius loves. The jokes, the memories, the wistful, deep breaths brought on by familiarity and comfort. James chuckles, and flips through the crinkling pages, not really paying attention to what he's looking at.

He snorts once more, and Sirius raises an eyebrow. "Guess it all worked out, though, eh?" Sirius nods.

"I guess so. You and Evans."

And like that, things are sobered. Less familiar territory, and it's not ground that Sirius knows quite how to deal with.

"And Harry." James adds, quietly. His eyes meet Sirius', curiously, pleadingly. Someone please understand me. Testing him?

Harry, right. It wasn't that Sirius doesn't like Harry; he does, really. He's cute enough, has James' hair, and Lily's eyes, and likes to grab at things, like Sirius' wand. Sirius loves to make faces at the baby, watching as he scrunches his pink, soft flesh into what could only be a grin. It reminds Sirius of James' ruddy grin, all lopsided and knowing.

But in most ways, Harry has replaced Sirius. Where James used to groan about having to spend more "quality time" with Lily, rolling his eyes as he ducked out of a guy's night out, James now happily excuses himself to spend hour after bloody hour watching Harry do pointless things, such as grab at wands and practice his grin. Sirius hates the baby. Hates the adorable, irresistible little bastard.

"Yes, and Harry, I suppose." Sirius says, with a small little sigh that has James wincing. Just a slight, barely there gesture, but one that Sirius notices, and appreciates.

"I…" James starts, but he trails off, sighing, and James looks afraid. Sirius can only think of one time he's ever seen James look that way, and it involves one unmentionable, hook-nosed wanker and a full moon.

"No, Prongs, tell me." Sirius manages, not really wanting to know. He doesn't want to know what can make his best friend look so tired, so un-James. It scares him.

James sucks in a deep breath, brings a careless hand to his hair again; a gesture which Sirius is sure he doesn't even register anymore. The magazine is dropped, and his feet, which James had rested so cockily on the table, slide off as he pulls his knees to his chest.

Sirius holds the air in his lungs like he can't get anymore, and he has to savor it. This is going to be a moment, he can tell, and Sirius doesn't want to ruin it, like he always does.

Sighing deeply, his best friend brings his eyes to Sirius'.

"I'm not sure I… I can't do it, Pads." He lets out finally; eyes gleaming like Sirius has never seen them do before.

"You," Sirius says slowly, when James stops speaking and rubs at one arm with his other, "you can't do… what, exactly?" It's coaxing, and Sirius knows it's obvious. James' shoulders slouch slightly, and he looks defeated as he continues.

"I can't be a father." Deep breath, "I can't. It's so… he's alive, and he squirms, and he's mine, and he looks like me, Pads. Me and Lily, we made him, and we can't…I can't…"

He stops, waits, composes.

"He'll be alive, long after I'm gone, and that's frightening, because how will I take care of him then? I just want to take care of him, and I don't think I've ever cared about anything else so much in my entire life, and do you know how scary that is? One day he's not there, and then, bam, there he is, needing me, and trusting me, and I want to do it. When Harry needs me, I don't want to play Quidditch, I wouldn't rather be wrapping my fingers around a snitch, or laying on a beach, or eating, or breathing, or anything. And I'm not used to this. I'm used to being shallow, and I'm used to looking out for me. These feelings, they…" James trailed off, expression gleaming with tears, eyes searching Sirius', trying to figure out if he understands.

"Sirius, I would die for this kid."

Sirius was shaky. His hands were damp, pressed together, his lips dry. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

"James, you…" fighting back his own tears, but Sirius couldn't really understand why, he attempts to force a smile, "That's a bit severe, James."

Bad joke. Planned failed.

Silence.

James is uncomfortable, clearly having just poured his heart out, and Sirius doesn't know how to fix it. He was used to fixing things with jokes, with smiles… clearly not working this time around.

Getting to his feet, he crosses the room and busies himself admiring the candle arrangement on the mantelpiece. One of his only, early attempts at making the place look homey.

James shifts uncomfortably on the sofa, as Sirius slowly turns to him. He studies the look of desperate intensity on his friends face, and wants to say something. He wants to make it better; he wants to see James smirk. He wants to drag James down the corridors at Hogwarts, blocking out Remus' protests. He wants to do something stupid.

James shrugs, and sighs, closing his eyes.

"Sirius, I don't know what to say." Swallowing around the lump in his throat at the words, Sirius nods.

"I know." He says softly. His best friends' features twist into something that looks like pain.

"And this is a problem, because I don't think we've ever run out of this to say before. It's just… it's not like that with us. We're unbreakable." James says firmly. Sirius battles the tears at his eyes, nodding his head vehemently, convincing himself.

"Well, I…" James starts, with what appears to be some difficulty, "do you think we… do you think we're falling apart? Do you think that our friendship…"

"No." Sirius snaps suddenly, and he knows what he has to do. A grin comes to his face. "No, James, mate. You've gone soft on me. We are far too manly to talk about the state of our friendship. For your sake, I will pretend I heard nothing."

And James, thank Merlin, Sirius thinks to himself, is grinning back. This is familiar. This is them. This is James Potter and Sirius Black.

"We wouldn't get into these conversations if Moony were here." James insists, running his hand once more through his rumbled hair. Sirius laughs.

"No, we wouldn't, would we? Remus knows how to have proper conversations." Sirius sat back down on the floor.

"That's not all he knows how to do, is it, Padfoot?" James can not seem to keep the mischievous smile off his face. Sirius didn't even blush.

"That he does, James. That he does." James scoffed, and set his feet on the table once more, folding his arms behind his head.

"As long as he's good to you, mate. We wouldn't want to see any abuse going on in this tiny little apartment. I hardly think there's room for it."

"Sod off." Sirius raised an eyebrow dangerously, "Is i Lily /i good to you?"

"You should be asking if I'm good to Lily. That's what's important here."

"Are you implying that I'm less than manly, James Potter?" Sirius grinned genuinely.

"Just a little, yeah."

"Well, I never!" Sirius pretends to be offended, and James laughs, and they both laugh, and Sirius loves this. This is what they do.

"Well," James says finally, "I was a little bit serious." Sirius looks up, confused.

"About my unmanliness?"

"No, about Remus. Is he good to you, Sirius?" Sirius searches James' eyes for tricks, for glee, but he finds none.

"Merlin, yes! Of course he's good to me, James. It's Moony, for Christ's sake!"

"Just checking."

"Who are you, my keeper?"

"Well, who are you going to turn to when Remus leaves you? You're a needy little thing, and he's bound to find that out soon. And when he does, you'll only have me." James is teasing, and Sirius shakes his head.

James stays for another hour, and they talk about everything and nothing. They discuss the paint color the walls should be. ("Gryffindor red, obviously," James scoffs. "I don't know, I kind of fancy this bleak, dull grey." Sirius ponders.) They discuss Dumbledore, and more important things; the war. They discuss the work James has been doing, the things Sirius has been working on. Harry said his first coherent word a few days ago. Alexander Nott had shown up, suddenly, on Dumbledore's doorstep, claiming his allegiance to the side of good, and everyone was skeptical. Lily was scared of being found by Voldemort. The weather had been shite lately. The Longbottoms had been in St. Mungos for quite a while, and James wonders how soon it would be before the same thing happened to him. They discuss what the best kind of Honeydukes Chocolate was.

And then, as quick as he had come, James has to go. He stands up to leave.

"Lily will kill me if I don't make it for dinner." He claims, stretching, raising his hands high above his head. Sirius groans.

"You're so bloody domestic."

"It comes with the marriage bit."

"Right." Sirius nods, chuckling, "I almost forgot. Husbandly duties and all that. Well, you enjoy that, Prongs. You enjoy your marital prison, while I sit here in my dirt and my grime and eat things with my hand and on the sofa if I so please. Freedom." James laughs.

"I don't know how Moony puts up with you." He says, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on.

Sirius doesn't want him to go. James is his constant, and has his unwavering loyalty. Lately, he hasn't been around as much as Sirius would like. James notices the look in Sirius' eyes.

"I'll come back and visit soon, Sirius."

"You'd better. What do you have to do for work this week?"

James sighs, thinking about it. "Peter is coming by later to let me know what my next assignment will be. Then I go from there. Snape…"

Sirius shudders visibly at the name, and James grins, but continues.

"Snape told us about a possible Death Eaters meeting, so it might have something to do with that. It'd be nice to finally get some evidence on Lucius Malfoy." Sirius listens quietly, and then nods.

"Be careful." He says firmly, quietly. This isn't a Sirius that James knows. This isn't the carefree, frolicking Sirius that James has grown up with. James laughs, and turns around as he reaches the door. His eyes twinkle as he looks at Sirius, and grasps his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Padfoot," he says, the corners of his mouth twitching up into the smirk that Sirius knows so well. "I'm invincible."

I'm invincible.

And then he's gone.

There was a house, and it was broken, and there was rubble, and Sirius had never liked rubble, and why was Sirius focusing on the rubble? There was fire, and there was something...

Another step forward to the house, and another, and panic. James was in there, James with the rubble, and Merlin what if Lily was hurt?

He reached the door, and then there was no door, just a man. Just... big, and Sirius couldn't see around him, this man, with something in his arms, squirming...

And it was the baby, and right, the baby, and James!

Where was James?

"Come on, this way, tha's no place fer you ter be lookin'..." He was being ushered, he was being pushed, and something was wrong, something was really wrong, and there was rubble and fire, and the fence was broken...

Snap. Reality.

James was in there, James had been in there, and even as Sirius' heart broke, he knew that there was something more important, than his grief, and if he could only remember what it was…

Harry.

"I'll take him, Hagrid." Sirius said, even as the anger boiled up in his eyes. He would take Harry. Harry was what was important now, that's what James would have wanted. But Hagrid said that he would take him, and right, the bike. Take my bike. And then he was gone; Harry was gone, and Sirius could breathe, easier but for the one thing that was still stopping up his throat.

"Don't worry, Padfoot," James says, the corners of his mouth twitching up into the smirk that Sirius knows so well. "I'm invincible."

He would rip the throat out Peter Pettigrew, before Moony even got a chance to talk some reason into him.

And then Sirius would cry.