A/N:My life is literally all over the place at the moment. I'm trying to keep on top of other stuff let alone this, but here's a bit more.

-o0o-

Afternoon, 1st November 1981

Remus Lupin spent the day searching the countryside and streets for Sirius and Peter, but hadn't the slightest clue of where to look. It hadn't been an easy task for him to do, apparition was dangerous for someone who's body wasn't always their own, even without the distraction of his world falling to pieces around him. The Knight bus was an option of course, but questions got asked, news got passed around, and that wasn't something that he could face. Eventually he managed to Floo to a couple of their old haunts, mostly the places they'd spent drunken and rowdy nights while Remus had tried to keep them reasonably undercontrol before they'd been forced to grow up. There was no sign of them, not even the faintest patch of urine; one of the animagus's favourite past times had always been marking his territory.

When he had checked at Peter's house he found it empty, with not even his mother there. It wasn't anything unusual, Enid Pettigrew was the youngest of all their parents, and she still worked as far as Remus was aware. He found it a little odd that Peter had gone out on his own, normally he preferred to hang around inside unless someone invited him out, in which case he followed like an eager puppy. It was with dejection in his stomach and panic rising that Remus returned back to his house, or rather the house Sirius had brought with money he'd inherited from one of the members of his family who hadn't completely forgotten about his existence.

Despite having been living there alone for the past week, and other times before, fighting for the Order, or fighting between themselves, the house had never seemed so empty. Cracking open the front door, Remus weakly called Sirius's name, already knowing that there would be no reply. The air was cold, and there was no scent of Firewhiskey or dog. Automatically, he headed for the kitchen, and put a kettle on the stove, trying to think of any other places that Sirius or Peter might have gone, preferably Sirius. Their house had been one of the most likely places, yet the least likely, and he wasn't surprised to find it empty, but knowing that it was made it harder for him to believe he would ever find Sirius at all. If he hadn't been forgiven now, in a time when they needed each other most, then when would he?

A thought stabbed at Remus's chest, and he doubled over in agony. Did Sirius really think that he'd been a spy?

The kettle boiled but was never used, sitting there and whistling while it's owner gasped for breath, his forehead pressing against the formica worktop, light brown hair dangerously close to the marmalade. He heaved, bringing up a small amount of bile, and spat it into the sink. Remus's head was spinning and he wanted to fall out of reality, even if it was just for a couple of hours. Was this why Sirius had drunk? Was it like he claimed it to be and it was just for the added fun, or had he drunk away the pain of war?

His mouth rinsed with warm water from the kitchen tap, Remus finally managed to pull himself together enough to drag himself back outside, and down the flight of stairs, the ubiquitous smell of stale urine and takeaway pizzas assaulting his nose. He was sure that Sirius had contributed greatly to both. A few staggering steps down the road he swallowed lungfuls of the crisp autumn air, trying to push away the thoughts that were clouding his brain and think of somewhere that Sirius might have gone.

At the realisation that the most likely place for Sirius to stay whilst he refused to come home would have been the Potter's, bile threatened to escape from Remus's stomach again. He clenched his stomach and stopped the bitter liquid from rising in his throat, reminding himself that had anyone else been harmed at the Potter's it would have been mentioned in the Prophet too. The fourth Marauder popped into his head, and Remus wondered whether Sirius had been staying with Peter. It wouldn't have been hard for him to convince the chubby man to let Sirius stay with him for a while, he'd always agreed to anything that the dark haired pair of troublemakers had suggested. He hoped, for some reason that he couldn't quite put into words, that Sirius hadn't been staying there though. Perhaps it had just been the frequent disappearances that he could give no explanations for, or if it was because he'd seemed more and more like the rat he could become in recent months, but he seemed less trustworthy than any of the others.

Remus cursed himself at thinking that way, he knew it was just the war paranoia making him think that way. He also knew how it felt to be on the wrong end of that paranoia. Oh yes, he knew, all too well. The empty space on the left hand side of his bed reminded him of that every night. As had the breakdown of communication between them ever since Dumbledore had suggested he search out for other wizards with the affliction of lycanthropy, and try to keep them on the right side, or at least see whether Voldemort was trying the same tactic. It was just paranoia, nothing but a trick of the mind.

No more than ten minutes later, Remus found himself standing outside Dalston Junction overground station, and dug in his pockets for some Muggle coins. Most people thought of him as strange for carrying sterling wherever he went, but both Sirius and him had always been keen on using the London transport systems over apparition. It had been one of the reasons they'd moved there in the first place, even though the Po... their friends, had settled in the countryside. Sirius had loved it because it was a Muggle thing, and anything that would upset his family was a bonus in his eyes, Remus because he was terrible at apparition, and both of them because of the nostalgia of the journeys to the safety of Hogwarts.

He didn't have to wait long at the platform before stepping onto a train heading west, and he only stayed on for a few stops, disembarking at Highbury and Islington. Checking the times showed that although the journey on the overground would be quicker, he would need to wait considerably longer for a train, and so, he made the trek down to the underground platforms, following the signs for the southbound Victoria line. Standing at the edge of the platform the urge to step forward grew strong in his stomach, tempting him to fall down onto the line and play chicken with both the trains and that peculiar Mugglish form of magic known as "electricity".

It would be so easy just to step off the edge, and have a blackness even darker than what resided in the tunnel engulf him... blackness where he would be with James and his perpetually messy hair, and Lily, combing it down in vain, loving everyone with her limitless kindness. To have laughter and friendship surround him again. They would know that he wasn't a spy, Sirius's hot-headedness didn't speak for all of them. Once they were back together he could explain everything. Remus's knee twitched, tempting him to leap, but something in the back of his head growled, and his foot remained stuck to the floor. He couldn't tell if it had been the wolf, or his human self-preservation instincts, but part of him didn't want to die just yet. As the rush of wind announced the arrival of the next tube train, Remus stepped backwards, well behind the warning on the floor reminding him to "mind the gap".

An image of Sirius floated into Remus's mind and he couldn't tell if that made things easier or worse, but was enough to him on the train. As it rushed through the underground tunnels, far beneath the streets of London, he thought of the people above ground. He was jealous of their ignorance of what was going on beneath their feet, or in another civilisation that brushed against theirs. It was true that they didn't know what was giving thousands a reason to celebrate, but it also meant that they didn't have everything they knew wrenched away from them either.. He made a conscious decision to devote the journey to dissecting the obscure choice to of words in the phrase "mind the gap". And Merlin only knew, there was no chance of him forgetting the gap in his life now.

It didn't take that long for him to get to Kings Cross St Pancras, where he struggled not to go up to the station proper and stare at platform 9 ¾. Maybe even try to get on it, to get on a train and run back up to Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, his childhood. But knowing that he had to put the record straight with Sirius overwhelmed him. It occurred that the last place Sirius would have gone would be back to his childhood home, Grimmauld Place, but he knew no where else to go. The alternative possibilities were no more appealing.

It was all he could to to hold himself together, arms wrapped around himself, during his final leg of the journey, where he got off at Angel. The crowd of people tried to push him off the incredibly narrow island platform into the tracks on the other side, and it was only by grabbing at someone's arm that he managed to save himself. He looked up to thank them, his breath catching as he saw their long curled black hair, but then his chest caved as they threw him a filthy look and charged off, leaving Remus with a pounding heart. It made no sense why he saved himself when minutes before falling onto the rails was such a sweet, sweet temptation. There was no purpose for him there any more, the war had been won, James was dead, Lily was dead, Sirius hated him, and Peter hadn't been the same lately. Albus would disband the Order of the Phoenix, and then there would be nothing else. Only the vague belief that his friends wouldn't want him to give up that easily, and one day he could prove to Sirius that it hadn't been his fault at all.

He turned to his left, making a dogged path up the steps towards the lift, thankful that the Full Moon had been long gone, and his bones weren't aching in their usual manner for once. The scars had mostly healed now, it was one benefit of running in the werewolf packs, they distracted him from attacking himself. Despite that, he moved slower than he had ever done before in his life, sluggish legs carrying his numb body. The bubble he was occupying moved in a time warp tot he rest of the world, and he didn't have the energy to run to keep up.

It was a fact that hadn't gone amiss by the Lift Operator, particularly miserable, even for someone who spent most of their working life deep beneath the ground. "C'mon, hurry up. We close at midnight! Show us yer ticket."

With a scowl he brandished the ticket and stepped into the lift. The operator settled back onto his wooden stool, pulling the lever to shut the door. They both grabbed onto the rail at the side as the operator prattled on about the impending apocalypse, and his stomach vanished through the bottom of the lift. Apparition was almost comfortable in comparison to getting out of one of the deepest tube stations in the capital in a rickety metal box. There was no way that he could face the climb up to the top via steps though.

"...we're all going to die, 'ave you 'eard that?" He was glaring at Remus, demanding a response.

"Uh." Remus grunted, not having heard a word of it, too busy worrying about his own problems and trying to keep his ears from popping and his stomach from emptying.

"It's the motor cars they say, they're all going to kill us. All that machinery and fumes."

The lift shuddered to a halt, and Remus turned to the man, throwing the statue of secrecy to the wind. "Whilst your world was saved last night, the end of mine began. Believe you me, motor cars are the least of your worry. It's human nature that's the destroyer."

As he stepped back out into the outside world, he was still rubbing at his head, wondering what had possessed him to tell the Lift Operator even just a fraction of his troubles. He'd never met the man before, and he wasn't one for wearing his heart on his sleeve to strangers. The sky above was grey and miserable, and he would have said it was a pathetic fallacy if British weather wasn't always so dull. It took him a moment to work out which way Grimmauld Place was, but regained his bearings, latching onto the hop that for some unknown reason Sirius would have been there. He would tell him that it had all been a nightmare, his rash accusation was just a figment of his imagination, and that Lily and James had just sent them a patronus inviting them over for dinner to celebrate Harry learning how to say "Prongs". A stake was wrenched through his chest as he realised that he might never get to see Harry growing up again, he'd been the closest thing he'd ever get to a son, even if it was Sirius who had been made Godfather.

Then it struck how thick he'd been. A patronus. It would have been infinitely easier to find Sirius with a patronus. But the middle of a Muggle street was never the best place to perform magic, particularly such a striking piece, and he was almost there anyway. So he kept on walking. If necessary he'd find somewhere secluded to cast the charm. Before he realised it he was walking down Grimmauld Place, scanning the side of the road for Sirius' parents house, hardly daring to hope that a big black dog would come bounding towards him up the street.

No dog appeared, but the house in question was standing tall in front of him, having slid out of no where, large and imposing. Breath caught in his throat as he realised that this was where Sirius had frown up and spent the vast majority of his life, despite having run to James' at the soonest opportunity. It was behind those walls that his family had tried to indoctrinate him into pure blood fanaticism, and ruined his childhood, turning even his brother against him. As he stared at the building it sunk in how much he must have hated it there, in that pretentious street, with black railings and three story Gregorian houses. It was the very opposite of the house he'd brought with his Uncle Alphard's money, which was quirky, located on a triangular traffic island surrounded by junctions, only accessible by climbing up the stairs to the front door. It wasn't quire a flat, but it wasn't a house either. It wasn't quite anything, and when he had pointed it out, Sirius had laughed and said it was just like Remus himself, and that had sealed the deal.