Remus had been a boy of poisoned blood running under scarred skin, paper cuts from late night reading, and sad smiles. Sirius had been a boy of adventure and joy pumping through his veins, loud laughter at 3am, and childish grins. Yet their hands had fit so perfectly together, fragile fingers interloping with strength and security. A relationship that was built on a foundation of care and love from two opposites. But that was then.

Now, Remus looks at a ragged heap on his sofa. A man of jagged edges, sunken eyes, and laboured breaths. Sirius whimpers in his sleep and it sounds every bit as broken as his body is. Every bone juts out at painful angles. The person that once helped Remus recover from monthly transformations now lays recovering from a twelve year transformation of his own. With a sigh, Remus sits on the chair across from Sirius and remembers.

Remus woke in an unfamiliar bed. The air, smells crisp from heightened senses of the beast, was sterile. The Hospital Wing.

Every muscle ached and there was a particularly intense sear of pain across Remus' leg. He felt as though he'd been running for an eternity.

"Remus," whispered a voice from his left. The voice was filled with friendliness and poorly masked concern. It was rough and low and Sirius'.

Remus turned to look at the boy whose eyes were cautious and guilty behind a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, mate," Sirius muttered. "You were gone longer than usual so I went to look for you. You were bleeding a lot and my healing skills aren't quite up to scratch."
"Nice wording," Remus smiled slightly at his friend's lack of forethought, a flaw that often provided arguments rather than the comfort of knowing Sirius wasn't stepping around Remus' affliction with over attentiveness as many did. Remus appreciated the change.

"Ah, bugger. Sorry."
"Quite alright," Remus shook his head. "You didn't have to bring me here, Sirius. I would've been okay. I've dealt with this on my own for long enough."

Sirius looked down, shrugging.

"That's what James said. I don't know. Maybe you shouldn't have to deal with it on your own all the time..." Sirius' eyes flitted to the window as he spoke. Remus didn't reply.

The silence between them stretched out for some time, interrupted only by the gentle snores of other patients and the rain on the window as it grew lighter outside. The pain in Remus' leg continued to attack at him but he did his best to ignore it.

Finally, Sirius stood.

"Feel better, Moony," he said with a smile. A strong hand patted Remus' thin shoulder. The warmth from the touch lingered with Remus long after Sirius had shut the Hospital Wing door.

"What am I doing here?" Sirius croaks, eyes wincing against the sunlight that covers his face. The light only serves to emphasise the deep circles, drawn in cheeks, and scarred soul behind his eyes.

"You showed up drunk, passed out on my sofa, and now you're asking the same question I've been wondering all night. Tea? Toast?"
Sirius waves a bony hand in dismissal and turns away from the sun.
"Perhaps it's for the best," Remus says. "I'm afraid that if I let anything edible anywhere near the vicinity of your mouth then you will projectile vomit all over my floor – and I only cleaned it yesterday."

Sirius grunts in response. Hungover. Remus sips at his own tea, watching the man before him struggle to sit up. Sirius' hair falls below his shoulder blades in knotted twists. His clothes, torn and muddy, hang off him with a sense of hopelessness. He shakes.

Remus places himself on the other chair, eyes never straying from Sirius' body. How could a man once so full of life look so haunted?

"Sirius, what are you doing here?"
Sirius glances up, bloodshot eyes lacking comprehension. It's quiet for a moment while Sirius gathers thoughts that are trapped in the tangled web that is now his mind.

"Gets lonely being in hiding sometimes. Pent up. Sorry if my presence is an issue."

"It's not," Remus ensures him. "I'm glad you're okay." As okay as someone who suffered Azkaban can be, he thinks. Sirius brings his knees to his chest and stares at the floor. Remus drinks his tea and watches over him. Feel better, Pads.