Disclaimer: Harry Potter is life, but it isn't mine.

Quick A/N: This chapter is mainly about what Sirius was/is going through, but there is some context that forwards the story as well.

He is damp, cold, and alone as the walls made of rock lay rough against the side of his furry face.

Padfoot had been his saviour from the Dementors, and had therefore allowed Sirius more time to contemplate recent events that seemed to be unfathomable to him.

Padfoot allowed himself to wonder how he came to have such an unpleasant nightmare that appeared to be, in Sirius's mind, all too real for his liking. Sirius wondered: had his hunger for revenge on Peter -which had defeated all of his logical reasoning on that fateful Halloween night- unwillingly lead to death the man he loved as well as his two best friends?

Initially, after his first 'Vision' of seeing his Remus, bloodied and dying, Sirius had believed Remus, who had come close to death various times before now, had indeed finally succeeded in his attempt to kill himself. The continuous taunts of his 'dream' had allowed Sirius to believe that he himself had killed him; killed Remus like his killed everyone else he loved. Days would pass, and Padfoot would howl softly at the Moon, berating himself for his sins while simultaneously cursing the very source that had once caused all his lover's pain; he howled as it phased in the sky, constantly changing.

Sirius could not see a world without Remus. He could barely cope with the knowledge that death had taken both Lily and James from him, but the very thought that he had lost both of his best friends, and his one love was, for Sirius, too unbearable.

He would see Remus in his dreams though. His beautiful eyes would stare at Sirius in confusion and apprehension, as if he were scared to show any emotion. It deeply disheartened Sirius that these dreams neither confirmed nor disproved his fear that Remus had indeed died from previous events, even if he had felt an immense closeness towards the werewolf in his dreams, as if you could them dreams that is.

Sirius had not allowed himself to give up though. He would not conform to the Dementors. He may abhor himself for the rest of eternity for all the pain and death he had caused, but he knew he had to survive all this.

For Harry.

The world was filled with such hate -most directed towards Sirius himself- but he knew that one day, Harry will grow to understand the truth. Harry would realize his Godfather's innocence. Sirius had believed that he had let everyone down, but he promised himself that he would not let Harry down further.

In Sirius's mind, he believed that Harry had deserved a better Godfather than himself, but he knew he could not run from the responsibility betrothed to him the day Harry was born. Sirius promised himself he would somehow be there for his Godson. Always.

He would make up for all the times he had let the people he loved down.

The ebony dog's eyelids dropped, allowing him to believe he was not trapped in a cold cell; allow him to believe that his love had indeed survived, and that they would one day be together for eternity.

Alive.

Moony was alive. Remus was alive. He knows. He sees him now. Sirius watches Remus's life continue from his internal prison. In the depths of his dreams, Padfoot had found his Moony. His lover's life was a moving picture, constructing emotion and enraged beauty. He watches Moony struggle and his refusal to communicate with the wizard he once respected above all others, as well as the rest of the world in general. It was painful for Sirius to see Remus in this new light. So much hate and anger, and so much loss. Oh, how Sirius ached to be by his Moony's side.

He was so close, yet so far away.

Sirius watches him now. He does not know how he is doing this. Magic is an endless chasm of knowledge, he gathers. This is not a normal dream though, he knows that.

It is all real.

Moony. His beautiful Moony. The sun reflects off his golden brown hair, that contains an unhealthy amount of grey for a twenty-one year old, not that this feature marrs his lover's elegance. His lust filled eyes move to focus on Remus's face. His skin: white but alluring as it had ever been.

Sirius reaches a hand out in an attempt to caress his lover's gaunt cheek -which was hosting three new scars from the previous moon- as he remains impassive to the static noise formulating from Dumbledore's mouth as he attempts to communicate with the werewolf. Entranced, Sirius watches the emerald orbs of his Moony uncannily glare at the old Headmaster with the wrath of the wolf. He watches Remus like a drug.

Like an addiction.

Although no one appeared to be aware of his presence, Sirius continued to reach out. Closer. So close now. The light in his eternal darkness. He sees Remus in his dreams, but only now does he realize that it's all real; that all he has to do is reach out. Touch him. Then he will know, that everything will be okay, and that Remus was, against the odds, alive.

So close. Inches away. One more move and Remus would be his again. Sirius's longing for the brush of Remus's cheek against his toughened fingertips was unexplainable.

Closer...

Remus moves forward in his chair -away from Sirius's touch before any contact had ever been formed- and Sirius felt at a loss, his eye's watering.

No. Blacks' never cry.

Sirius turns his attention to the cause of Remus's movement. Dumbledore was handing him something. Remus sat back in his chair. He appeared to be holding an envelope. An all too familiar envelope. Sirius's heart skipped one too many beats as excitement overwhelmed him.

This is better than Sirius could ever imagine. The letter, beneath the werewolf's hands, was the key to his innocence. All Remus had to do was open it, and he was free.

But something was not right...

Sirius watched as Remus's glassy eyes considered the parchment. Confusion and emotion slowly brimming into anger and resentment. Sirius knew then, that life was never as simple as opening an envelope. He had seen that look in his lover's eyes before, too many times. Reason was futile. Once Remus had set his mind on a particular path, there was no going back. He could only watch in horror as Remus suddenly stood and marched to the fireplace, destroying the answers he had held unknowingly beneath his palm, discarding it into the flames.

Remus marched from the office and Sirius's world turned monochrome as his mind had returned to his cell -the symbol of his imprisonment. He sighed ,exasperated. He pulled his knees to his chest, resting his elbows on them. Sirius pressed his rough hands to his face and began rubbing furiously.

He had been so close!

'God damn it, Remus!'

All he had to have done was open that letter and Sirius could have been free; could have been with him again! A lone tear slid down his face, triggering his breakdown.

Blacks' don't cry. Blacks' don't cry. Blacks' don't cry.

Sirius screamed in frustration, the sound drowned from behind his hands, yet it was still at a distinct pitch. He wanted to scream and scream at the world; yell and curse and wail. Then, it hit him.

The Coldness.

Cold. Bitterness. Death. Sirius looked up from behind his hands to find a Dementor staring at him from outside his cell, tapping its scaly fingers against the metal bars in interest. The sight was eerie and sinister, and unwillingly, Sirius found himself to be quite afraid of what would happen next. It would be too risky and conspicuous to change into Padfoot what with all the emotion going through him currently.

Remus. Why was it that his source of happiness was also the cause of his pain?

He squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the hours of torture that were about to befall upon him as the Dementor began to feast.

The North Sea?

Could Dumbledore be implying what Remus thinks he is implying?

'Sir? But... surely you don't mean-'

'Azkaban, Remus? Yes, that is indeed what I am talking about. I was merely pondering the idea.' Dumbledore looked thoughtful as his gaze shone through Remus's own sceptical look.

'Sir, forgive me, but I'm afraid I'm not entirely sure on what you're implying exactly.' Dumbledore chucked slightly, a ghost of a grin forming on his tranquil countenance.

'I thought as much,' He focused on Remus properly now, smiling apologetically at the werewolf. 'Tell me, Remus, if I were able to make it possible, how would you feel about seeing Sirius again?'

Remus blanked. He did not understand, why would Dumbledore ask him this? What would be the purpose of seeing Sirius again? He struggled with his response,

'Sir? What possible significance could come from seeing Black-' Dumbledore raised a hand to interrupt.

'I apologise for my impatience, Remus, but please could you answer first, then I can go into further detail.' He paused, and Remus stayed silent as the headmaster seemed to be considering his next words, Remus looked at him apprehensively. 'Also, you may as well call him Sirius, Remus. I hear the feigned malice in your voice, as if you are trying to detach yourself from him. We both know that you are going through enough pain as it is without concealment of what is fairytale and what is fact.'

Remus nodded once, then looked down at his hands in contemplation. A whirlwind of emotion swam through his head, and he considered the consequences of visiting his deranged lover. Surprisingly, it did not take as much consideration as he originally thought. Remus looked up at Dumbledore who was watching him closely and curiously.

'I have considered the consequences, Professor... and I have decided that I would want to go anyway.' The corner of his mouth twisted in a melancholy, albeit humorous smile. Dumbledore smiled back, although his humour appeared more dominant than Remus.

'I see.' He nodded in agreement. 'I suppose you'd now like to wonder why I have asked this of you?'

'Indeed, Sir, if you don't mind.'

'Not at all.' Dumbledore leant back against his headmasters' throne and sighed.

'I have had a lot of time to analyse this situation, Remus. I am sure that you are aware of that.' It was a statement, not a question, so Remus did not interrupt. 'After considering our options, I figured that, in this situation, visiting Sirius seemed to be the most convenient. Allow me to explain what I mean by that.' He added when Remus looked at him puzzled. 'I figured, seeing Sirius again would make coping with things seem easier for you. It would be, after all, the first time you were able to see him again since before your mission back in October. It is my belief, that seeing again will bring you the closure you deserve and need.'

Remus shifted uneasily in his chair, twirling a clunk of his hair beneath his fingers in perturbation. Dumbledore continued to look at him, bemused. Remus sighed and began to confess.

'Professor, what if I told you that I have already seen Sirius after... everything?' He breathed ruggedly, as the headmaster formed a questionable glance.

'How?'

In all honesty, Remus was taken aback by the question. How? He had expected a more formal, contextual approach to his confession. Although, Dumbledore demeanour seemed unsettled as opposed to his usual omniscient appearance. Remus thought about the question carefully and began to explain.

'Well... It's difficult to explain, Sir. The thing is, it's almost like I'm constantly having hallucinations of him. I have seen him almost everyday since the Ministry. It's mostly when I'm asleep that I see him, however I know that is no cause for concern.' He sighed, struggling to put his point across. 'The thing is though, he was there, Professor. He was there with me in the Shack. That was like the break in the damn that started all of this.' He sounded mad, he knew it. He could tell from the way the headmaster was studying him.

'Have you considered the possibility that these "Visions" could have been simply a memory, or a construction of your imagination, Remus? After all, the likelihood of Sirius Black actually being in the Shrieking Shack while at the same time being locked away in Azkaban seems to be next to impossible.' Dumbledore reasoned. Yes, he did have a point, but that was not the case. Remus's cheeks puffed as he exhaled.

'I understand, Sir, but I didn't imagine the confrontation.' He emphasised the "Imagine" hoping Dumbledore would understand. 'He wasn't physically there with me, per say... but he was. It's complicated...' He screwed his eyes shut in concentration, trying to remember. 'I was angry; distraught. I wanted to end everything, I just didn't see the point anymore. Before he came, I admit, I did sort of hallucinate, but that was not the point. I was determined; I was ready. So close, but then he came. He touched me. It wasn't like when a ghost or spirit touches you though, it was almost... warm... I don't know...'

He opened his eyes and looked directly at Dumbledore, who chose not to interrupt. Relieved, he continued, 'But he tried to help me. He wanted to stop me, like he used to do when we were kids... but he wasn't a memory. It was new, all of it, but I was so devastated and distressed that I thought nothing of it...

'I'm not sure, sir, but thinking about it now, doesn't it seem a little unorthodox?'

Dumbledore nodded.

'It would seem so. Personally, I think this new information you have given me gives me all the more reason to think that visiting Sirius is the next step in his story, Remus. I think -and you probably think so too- that it would probably be best if we got to the bottom of this mystery quickly, don't you think?' Remus nodded feverishly, eyes abnormally wide.

'When do you think it best to go, Professor?' Dumbledore thought about this for a moment before answering,

'I think we had best wait until after the next full Moon, Remus. I need time to make special arrangements for you to go to Azkaban -with regard to you lycanthropy that is. I fear that if you yourself were to make the inquiry to go, you would be denied without question. Forgive me, Remus, for my arrogance, but I think that if I were to do it, you would have a better chance of being able to visit. I am, after all, in a much more respected position at the Ministry at the moment.'

He smiled sadly at the forlorn werewolf, who indeed understood Dumbledore's words but did not rebuke him for them. He had only stated the truth, and he had meant well by them, so instead he nodded and made to stand.

'I understand, Sir. Thank you for doing all this for me despite how I have acted towards you this past month, and no matter how this turns out, know I will forever be grateful for all you have done for me.' He paused and smiled lightly, 'I also hope that you do not think me too mad after this encounter, because I can assure you, I am perfectly normal.' Dumbledore smiled back at that,

'The pleasure is mine, though I hope you can forgive me also for my nonchalant approach at the commencement of all of this. In regard to your last statement though, I can assure you that I may be old, Remus, but I am definitely not blind yet, nor indifferent to the havoc you and your friends beheld on this school and Professor McGonagall during your school years. Due to this, I am afraid to say that "Mad" does not quite cut it.'

'The Marauders had their own category, Headmaster.' Remus replied reminiscently.

'Indeed.' When Remus turned to leave, he called back, 'Remus!'

The lycanthrope turned back curiously, 'Yes, Sir?' Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

'Call me, Albus.'

He falls into his usual slumber, but this time it's different. This time, he is not the one that initiates the 'Dreams'. This time, he does not see those beautiful, expressive emeralds. Instead, he sees the never ending darkness; it consumes him whole. He is aware of his head swivelling around, looking for some other presence with him, but finds nothing. It is befuddling and excruciating for him to know he is so close, yet so far. Sirius knows Remus is with him; he feels it, but he can not fathom where...

His throat is rough, but he calls out never the less.

'Moony?'

No answer. Sirius begins to worry, he does not want to be trapped here alone, his dreams are meant to be his escape. In his palace of serenity, the Dementors can not reach him as his dreams were never happy. It was his longing to be with the one he loved that he strived for. It was pure obsession. If he could make Remus understand that he was innocent, then they could have the chance to try and live again...

Sirius had seen Remus in Dumbledore's office. His countenance was broken, like Sirius, but his eyes were filled with a small hope as Dumbledore spoke of visiting him -Sirius.

'Moony!' He called, this time louder and desperate, 'Remus!'

'Sirius?' The voice was unsure, albeit oddly hopeful. Sirius sighed in relief.

'Yes, it's me, Moony.' He smiled into the darkness.

'I can't see you, Sirius...' Then his soft voice became colder, 'Padfoot what are you doing here? I hate you. Why did you come?'

Sirius did not know what to say. The infamous Sirius Black: speechless. He found his voice, though his confidence faltered.

'I- I wanted to see you, Remus. Always.' He waited anxiously.

'Well, I don't want to see you.' The voice quivered, and Sirius shook his head with a melancholy smile.

'We both know that's not true, Moony. If you didn't want to see me then I wouldn't be here. You brought me here this time.'

'No... I didn't.' The voice softened and came closer, a breath away.

"I saw you in Dumbledore's office today." Sirius wanted to say, but he was just happy to hear Remus's voice that he didn't bother. Besides, it might make Remus leave, and Sirius did not want that either.

Nervously, he reached out into the darkness, yearning for some sort of physical sign that Remus was actually there with him. The brush of his finger tips against the werewolf's cheek brought him unexplainable happiness and relief, and feeling the lycanthrope subconsciously lean in to the touch filled Sirius with a brilliant warmness.

He grinned ecstatically.

They remained like that for a few minutes, Sirius's smile gradually faltering, being replaced by a disconcerted one instead.

'The full Moon's on the eleventh.' Sirius whispered, and he felt Remus nod weakly beneath his fingers. 'I always know, Moony, even from where I am now.' Remus stilled. He did not move away, but he was no longer as submissive to Sirius's touch. When he spoke, he voice feigned anger.

'I should hate you, Sirius. I want to hate you so much... Why do you do this to me?' Sirius stuttered in discomposure as he tried to answer the question.

'I- I don't know...'

'Why do you taunt me like this?'

' Moony, please... I love y-'

'No.' The word was was not spoken loudly, but it echoed through the darkness as Remus pulled away. 'Don't you dare, Padfoot.' Sirius knew then that it was a mistake, he quickly responded,

'I'm sorry, Remus.' But he was only met with silence.

He ran forward, hoping to find the werewolf, but found nothing. He ran until his feet no longer sought the floor and instead he was falling. Falling through the bottomless darkness until he awoke, drenched in a cold sweat.

Aware of his damp surroundings, he quickly made to transform into Padfoot so his torturers would not seek him out.

So close...

A/N: Whoo, I am back! I'm on a short break from exams so I thought I'd post a few chapters this next week to make up for my absence. Once again, thank you for all the reviews, appreciate them all. :)