Finding Home

(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

NOTES:

About to get really complicated. Remus is a complex dude (with very low self-esteem).

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12

As if someone had hit him, Remus sprang up, very suddenly, sitting bolt upright on the couch. Frantically, he whipped his head around, struggling to comprehend, trying to untangle himself from the blankets that had wrapped their way around his legs. In his sudden confusion, he tried to speak, but his voice came out only as a sharp croak.

"Hey, hey," Sirius hurried over from the doorway, sitting quickly down at his feet, his hands instantly finding their place on Remus' face, stroking his hair back. "You're fine, Moony; it's okay."

Remus relaxed somewhat. It was coming back to him now; his momentary panic ebbing away as soon as it had occurred. He had just awoken on their very battered couch, and it was morning; and the sweet, beautiful morning sunlight was what had stirred him from his deep slumber. As if he were made of gelatin, Remus felt himself collapse into the bend of the couch cushions, closing his eyes again. Everything that had happened last night was a stressful, hazy blur. He could hardly remember what was real, and what was pretend prior to his transformation, and after that… Remus shook his head, trying to think. As usual, his memories while he was a werewolf were few and far between, but clearly, the night before had not been a good one.

Sirius had moved closer to him, still pushing the hair off his face, and Remus realized he had grasped onto his hand; their fingers intertwining. Attempting to get his bearings, Remus opened his eyes once more and spoke to the boy, who was looking extremely anxious, bending over him. "What happened?"

"It…wasn't good," Sirius said, with an obvious attempt to stay calm, and though he forced himself to remain so, Remus was shocked to see that tears were brimming in his eyes. He remembered, now—James had come over and the two had waited as long as they could, both pretending they weren't checking their watches, waiting for Sirius. Five more minutes… He'll be here in five more minutes; he would have told us if he would be late… When they finally couldn't wait any longer they'd set off, silently crossing the land, Remus' head swimming… Never been alone with James before; what if the werewolf hurt him? Where was Sirius… He could only vaguely recall the image of Sirius sprinting toward them; he felt he must have blacked out as he reached for him, flooded with relief, but feeling the wolf inside him grow angry, so, so angry…

"The werewolf," continued Sirius, attempting to keep his voice steady, "it made you so angry… It was all we do to keep you from us, Remus. We had…" he sighed, "We had to fight back."

"What do you mean?" asked Remus, confused, but as it he said it, his body was becoming more and more awake; less numb to the sleep he had woken from. As Sirius sighed again, Remus looked down at his self, noticing, for the first time, how much damage he must have done. Most noticeably, a large, purple-yellow bruise was spreading from his collarbone, and his arm, from shoulder to elbow, was covered in several long, already-healing cuts; his stiff, aching limbs decorated in minor injuries. "What's this from?" he asked, gesturing to the arm.

"Me…" said Sirius, regretfully, reaching out to gently touch the end of one claw mark. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but closed it again.

"And this?" Remus asked, gesturing to his collarbone.

"Broken," Sirius muttered, "We—James and I, that is—fixed it up, though, right after dawn. I… I didn't mean to do it. The wolf was going crazy, and James… He didn't know what to do."

They both sat quietly for the next few moments. A very odd mix of emotions was forming in Remus' chest, a fast, whirling tornado of confusion. He was deserving of every wound, grateful they were there; almost—he resisted gripping his scratched arm—wishing they were cut deeper, so he could feel the physical pain over what was going on emotionally. He felt as if he might vomit, watching Sirius, whose dark, under eye circles showed clearly that had not slept; still bent over him, looking harried. However, despite the guilt that was swelling so deeply it neared suffocating, he felt another surprising emotion, one he had never felt when it came to Sirius…

He was, despite knowing how selfish he was being, angry with Sirius… but not for being late the night before. He knew it wasn't right to ask Sirius to be there for him; it was unfair to ask Sirius to support him when he was what most wizards considered to be despicable. However, as he looked down at his neck, which shone purple against his white skin, the feelings of rage coursing through him were hard to deny. His bones would mend, but the fact that he had put James, and Sirius at risk would not change. To put it simply, he was angry that Sirius had cared.

The wolf had been livid, seeking to attack the things that had once given him comfort, and Remus knew Sirius would have had no choice but to protect his best friend, who had never been able to control the werewolf as well as Sirius could. Remus' anger, and the realization of it, was coupled only with a feeling of deep, impenetrable sadness. He had known all along he didn't deserve Sirius' love, or even his affection, but it was becoming more and more obvious with each day that Sirius had a new life. Against his better judgment, Remus had become used to the love, the attention, and now, he was bitterly reminded of what he had told Sirius just a week after they'd agreed to be together—he wasn't being fair to him. Remus had been foolish to let himself feel as though he deserved, stupid to encourage Sirius' feelings, and now, all of his friends were hurting as a result. As he opened his mouth to speak, to try and apologize, to say something, Sirius spoke again.

"My fault," he muttered desperately, and the tears he had been trying to suppress fell forward, dropping onto their linked hands. "Oh—Remus—I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I made you so angry last night; now… you're hurt…"

"No," said Remus, swallowing his anger, and, with a feeling of further guilt, the sense of knowing better—knowing that he was being selfish to keep hanging on "It's not, Sirius; it's mine. I am a werewolf. Nothing is going to change that."

Sirius sighed heavily again, and the shame coursing through Remus was almost unbearable now. "I wanted to show you something," he said shakily, drying his eyes on his sleeve. "I know your birthday isn't until tomorrow, and this isn't exactly a present to you, but I got it a few days ago…" Sirius had begun to undo the top few buttons of his shirt, and Remus stared at him, wondering what on earth he was talking about. As Sirius pulled the garment open, though, he felt his mouth drop. Sirius had quite a love of Muggle things, and customs, but Remus didn't think he would have gone this far. Across the top of Sirius' chest, just under his collarbone, was a long, dark tattoo. With a shock, Remus realized that the circles that crossed from shoulder to shoulder represented a pattern he was very familiar with—the cycles of the waxing and waning moon, with the open, full moon directly in the center.

Sirius had gone, after work one day, to get it done. He had, with Lily, drawn out the idea many, many months ago, but the day at the Ministry, the million other lies he'd told about his love life, and Remus' upcoming birthday had finally been the push he needed. He tried to pretend that their relationship, and his ultimate commitment to the boy had been the real reason for finally going through with it, but in reality, the guilt he felt in lying, pretending, and not being around nearly as much had been a huge factor. Sirius knew, despite the fact that Remus would never say it, that he hadn't been giving Remus nearly what he deserved… However, if he could only read Remus' thoughts at that moment, Sirius would have been shocked, as Remus was thinking quite the opposite. The remorse had built up so heavily in Remus' chest that he couldn't hold back his tears any longer. He collapsed against Sirius' bare shoulder. Sirius, though surprised, held him there, wordlessly allowing the boy's tears to soak into his skin.

As they sat in the silence together, their sore, tired chests pressed against the others, both heartbeats found a similar pattern. Each engrossed in their own thoughts, they couldn't possibly know, couldn't possibly realize that, though their minds told both a different story, each heart was also weighed down with the same, sinking, undeniable feeling… of regret.

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I'm back at school so... ugh... just leave me lots of reviews so I have something to look forward to in the morning, pleeease? : (