"How could you let him play, James? I knew something like this was going to happen." Sirius's panicked, angry voice cut under the surface of Remus's consciousness, pulling him slowly awake. "We could see how sick he looked from the stands, even. Even Marlene bloody McKinnon could tell something was up, and you still let Remus risk his life over goal hoops!"
"I thought Quidditch would be good for him!" James protested. "And it was, Sirius—if only I could've gotten the match moved back…he said he was all right to play today!"
"Of course he did, he's Remus. He knew you didn't have a backup, so of course he bloody played." Remus blinked open his eyes, his head aching at the sudden onslaught of light, and found James and Sirius standing over his bed, both of their faces bright red. James looked flustered, running his hands over and over again through his hair, and Sirius was visibly trembling. "And now Pomfrey's never going to let him anywhere near that pitch again. Brilliant job, Prongs."
Remus felt a pressure squeezing at his hand; wincing a little, he turned his head to find Peter crouched on his other side and clutching at him tightly. Peter gave a little gasp as he met his eyes. "Guys, he's awake!"
"Oh, thank Merlin." James and Sirius immediately forgot all about their argument and fell to their knees beside Remus's bed. "How're you feeling, Moony?" James asked anxiously.
"Like I drank way too much firewhiskey last night," Remus mumbled. "My head is killing me." He slid his hand from Peter's grasp and raised it to the throbbing spot behind his ear, where an angry lump had already formed. "What happened? I just remember playing Quidditch and trying really hard to hold onto my broom."
"Well, you didn't quite manage that, mate," James said grimly. "You got whacked in the head by a Bludger, hard enough to give you a concussion. Me and Mary caught you before you hit the ground, though." He shook his head, biting his lip. "I'm sorry, Remus. I didn't—I shouldn't have made you play today."
"You didn't, James. I wanted to." Remus swallowed. "I'm not going to get to play anymore though, am I?"
James and Sirius exchanged a glance. "It's all right. I heard you talking before."
"Pomfrey's taken away your medical clearance," James told him reluctantly. "But we can fight it, Moony—I'll make sure something like this never happens again, I can go to McGonagall and get her to change the game dates—"
"No, James." The words tasted like bile on Remus's tongue. "Pomfrey's right; I never should've played in the first place. It's too dangerous for me." He'd been so stupid to think he could ever have been on a Quidditch team. Even though his memories of it were hazy, he knew he'd made himself a laughingstock at the game today.
Sirius placed a gentle hand on his arm—it was the first time he had touched Remus since the summer before. This close to him, Remus could make out tear streaks down Sirius's cheeks; had he been crying over him? The thought made his heart give a painful squeeze.
Remus reached across his chest and rested his fingers against Sirius's. "I'll be okay, Padfoot," he said weakly.
Sirius nodded. The emotion in his eyes was so deep and intense, it made it difficult for Remus to breathe. Suddenly he found himself wondering exactly why he had spent so long avoiding one of his favorite people in the world—Sirius had a darkness inside of him, sure, but so did Remus, and Sirius had never once judged him for it. Sirius couldn't help the way he'd been brought up and the way he'd learned to see the world any more than Remus could help his lycanthropy. How had he not realized that before?
"James," Remus murmured, "you think you could give us a minute?"
James glanced quickly between Remus and Sirius. "Right," he said, clearing his throat. "Come on, Petey; let's go stall Pomfrey when she finishes with the concussion potion."
"But she said he needs the potion right away—"
"He won't die if we keep her a few more minutes. Peter, come on."
Peter stood and followed James out of the hospital wing, casting nervous glances back at Remus every few steps. James ushered him out the door, and then it was just Remus and Sirius and the empty beds that surrounded them.
"I was so scared today, Remus," Sirius breathed, breaking the silence at last. Shakily he raised Remus's hand to his cheek as if to make sure it was real. He was still shaking a little. "When you fell, and you wouldn't wake up, I was so bloody scared. I almost passed out myself."
"You were yelling at James when I came to," Remus said. "I've never heard you so angry with him before." He tilted his head. "You know it's not his fault."
"I know." Sirius tightened his grip on Remus's hand. "I had to yell at someone, though. You just—you make me crazy, Remus Lupin. Absolutely mental." He glanced up, met Remus's eyes once again. "I…oh, screw it. I love you, you wolfy bastard. I love you like I've never loved anything else."
And Remus knew he meant it, because the truth was written all across his face. Despite all his faults and all his mistakes, Sirius loved him for exactly who he was. He always had.
Remus couldn't resist him any longer. "Come here," he said, and he used every last bit of his strength to pull Sirius into the bed with him. He rolled him onto his back and kissed him, and kissed him and kissed him again, feeling like he was tasting air for the first time after a long dive under the sea. God, how he had missed this.
When they finally broke apart, Remus felt so light and healed that he wondered if he'd even need Madam Pomfrey's concussion brew. He traced his fingers hungrily across Sirius's cheekbones, his nose, his eyebrows, taking in every single perfect inch of him.
"I love you, too," Remus whispered, and it was one of the truest things he had ever said.
