Disclaimer -- if I owned this, I'd be writing it at a decent time, not at eleven-thirty the night before a big exam. Remus, Sirius, James, the Fat Lady, Lucius and the girl's bathroom on the seventh floor (along with the rest of Hogwarts and, well, the whole magical world) are the sole property of JK Rowling. The rest is mine mine mine.

Note -- you can decide for yourself whether this is slash or not; there's a mention of bed-sharing at the end, but it's rather platonic. Oh, actually, there is a mention of slash in it, but ... yeah. The rating is for a little violence and some minor language. Mention of one OC; it'll be explained.

Ice

Sirius felt the back of his head hit the wall; not hard, but enough that he blinked hard and shook himself a little. Remus did not loosen his grip on Sirius's arms; rather, his fingers dug in harder. The Fat Lady tutted. Remus shot her an amber-green glare and she fell abruptly silent; a quick imperious gesture sufficed to make her slide from her portrait.

Sirius came back to himself and tried to wrench himself free, snarling a little; Remus slammed him into the wall again, not quite as hard this time. Sirius desisted, staring at Remus, panting. Remus's eyes were cold.

"You know who you sounded like in there?" Remus asked icily, his eyes unblinking in their tight focus on Sirius's face. "Caleb. You sounded like Caleb. You found his weak spot and you tried to reduce him to nothing –"

"Shut up –" Sirius was shoving to get free again. This time Remus turned him away from the wall and shook him. His weight was not enough to hold a fighting Sirius against the wall, despite his considerable third-quarter strength. Sirius was slightly dazed when he was done and Remus forced him round the corner to press him against the wall again. There was a short flight of stairs nearby; Sirius would recognize the risk. Or he would if Remus managed to let off some of the building pressure in Sirius; he wasn't sure this time, if he could do it.

Sirius tried to bring his knee into Remus's groin, hissing, "Don't you dare, do that to me," and Remus dodged the blow, reasserted his grip and knocked Sirius into the masonry again. While Sirius was dazed, Remus wrestled him across the hall to the nearest bathroom. It turned out to be a girl's bathroom; Remus couldn't have cared less. He forced Sirius's head down into a sink and turned on the cold tap full blast.

He let Sirius up about thirty seconds later, coughing, spluttering, and forced him to the wall. A moonbeam from the high window caught Sirius's wet face, and Remus was satisfied to see that the cold water had done its work. Sirius took another deep, hoarse breath and coughed rackingly. Remus kept hold of his arms, knowing he was bruising the soft tan skin.

"You done?" he asked, and, without waiting for an answer, "You have got to control yourself. You acted like you wanted to humiliate him – James, your best friend, you acted like you wanted to see him crushed – and –"

"Let go of me," Sirius panted.

"– you sounded more like your brother than I've ever heard you," Remus went on fiercely, between his teeth. "Someone has said all that to you, haven't they? Don't even try to be ice cold, it doesn't work on you. You're killing yourself trying to be your father –"

"I hate him!" Sirius shouted, twisting in Remus's harsh grip as they were assailed by hollow echoes of his throaty cry. "I would never be like him –"

Remus jerked him forward and threw him back again, heard the sharp crack as Sirius's skull struck marble wall tiles, and took a deep breath and exhaled his impatience. Sirius could kill him like this; he could just as easily hurt Sirius.

Sirius sagged a little in his grip; Remus was afraid he'd knocked his friend out, and let off his grip. Sirius slumped to the floor, sprawled with one leg bent and his arm draped over his knee, and Remus sank down with him, sliding his arms around Sirius's shoulders, more to restrain him than to show affection.

"Everyone who's hurt you is in you, Sirius," Remus whispered. He reflected for a moment on his own statement, realizing its truth. Sirius's father who had beaten him; his mother who'd half-convinced him he was a whore; Lucius Malfoy; cold, removed Regulus and Caleb, the man Sirius had sold sex to for protection from all of the above. And it was true in Remus's case as well; dear old Fenrir Greyback's legacy made its monthly reappearance; he hoped it hadn't caused him to hurt Sirius. He slipped a hand into Sirius's long black hair, ignoring the violent recoil, and felt for a cut. There was none. He returned his hand to Sirius's shoulder. "You've gotta realize that and you have to control yourself. Sure; you've been completely fucked up –" he felt Sirius move a little in surprise at Remus's word choice – "but you have got to control your temper. You don't want to be them. And that is what you will become if you keep this up. James will not take much more of this – you're tearing him up and you've no one to blame but yourself for that – he'll drop you if you keep stabbing at him."

"But not you, Moony?" Sirius's voice was childlike in its blind need for comfort, and Remus relaxed a little.

"No," he said as gently as he could manage. "Not me. But Sirius –"

He stopped, because Sirius had lashed out again when Remus relaxed. Remus dropped onto Sirius and flattened him against the glass-tile floor. He put a hand on the back of Sirius's neck to keep him there. Sirius was more keyed up even than he'd thought, shaking like a newspaper in a gale-force wind and tenser than a live wire. "James – won't – take – your – treatment," Remus said, his voice iron, amending his last word in the instant before he said it. "I've heard how Lucius talks to you, and that was what it sounded like. You love him like a brother; don't screw this up for yourself. Or for him. Please, Sirius." His voice was soft again. "Please don't do this. To any of us. Just breathe. Calm down."

He lay on top of Sirius for several minutes, with the hand on Sirius's neck and the elbow in the small of his back assuring Remus of his friend's docility. Some distant, very alpha part of his mind was commenting that it was about time Sirius remembered who was the wolf and who was the fuzzy mutt. It was very quiet in here, and smelled of old mildew and old perfume.

"Remus," Sirius said at last. "Lemme up, okay?"

"Are you calmed down?" Remus asked.

"Yeah."

"Take a deep breath," Remus commanded, "and relax as you let it out. You'll feel better."

Sirius slowly obeyed, and Remus pushed himself up to sit cross-legged on the tile beside him.

Sirius straightened his arms slowly, then got up and assumed what Remus privately thought of as his "lost puppy" position; one side of his back pressed to the wall, arms draped loosely around knees that were drawn tightly to his chest. The left side of his face bore a red tile-print, and his damp and disordered hair tumbled over his right eye. He took another deep, shuddery breath.

"I lost control," he said.

"No kidding." Remus was not backing down this time. "You must learn to control your temper, or one day you're going to kill someone. Or yourself."

"I try to control it, Moony –" There was a touch of puppy whine buried in there.

"Which is exactly why it might be yourself." Remus looked at Sirius until their eyes met. "You can't bottle it up. Or it comes out like this."

"I've never done this before –" Sirius protested.

"Never quite like this. Never to this extent. But you can be very cruel, once the pressure has been on the rise long enough; you have to recognize that and you have to come up with other ways to deal with it, or you're going to hurt James. Or yourself. Or me," he added as an afterthought.

Sirius extended a supplicating hand; Remus gripped it and pulled Sirius close for a tight hug. Recognizing the desire for contact, Remus kissed his brow in an almost paternal manner, squeezed him again, hard, and got them both upright. Sirius slid free of his grasp.

"Bed," Remus suggested. His voice was flat; the confrontation had drained him as much as it had Sirius.

"Yeah." Sirius agreed.

They returned to the dormitory. The Fat Lady looked them over warily as she opened for them. The common room was quiet; the fire was hot coals. "Your head okay?" Remus asked quietly as they ascended the stairs, side by side.

"It's had worse," said Sirius, and gave Remus a tight little smile. Remus patted his shoulder.

Sirius pushed the dormitory door open. James gave Sirius a cool, appraising look, then his gaze flicked to Remus, who mouthed: Please, Jamie. James nodded, trusting that Remus would make things right later, and looked back to Sirius. "Hey, Padfoot," he said.

"Hey." Sirius looked down humbly. "Sorry."

"'S all right," James said indifferently, anything but indifferent. Remus was at once grateful for James's trust – of course Moony would defuse it all – and wearied by it. He picked the first one.

Sirius, who had stopped awaiting that approval, proceeded across the room to his bed, pulling his shirt over his head. James and Remus shared another glance as Sirius revealed his scarred back. Remus followed Sirius, changing beside his own bed, then going to Sirius's to provide warmth.

Sirius was already in bed; Remus slid between the sheets. Sirius opened his eyes. "Thanks," he muttered, in ashamed gratitude.

"No problem," Remus told him, even though it was a problem; when both of their girlfriends were starting to question what honestly was a brotherly habit of sharing a bed on the bad nights, it was a problem.

Sirius closed his eyes again, beginning to drift. Remus reached out absently and patted his back, as he might with a child, then turned over and closed his own eyes.

And it would continue. This would happen again.Sirius would fall silent in the middle of a conversation, or would blow up at something so minor that it was like declaring full nuclear war because you happened to glimpse a soldier; but Remus would defuse it again. This hadn't been in the job description, but he took it with the rest; it was what he did.

End