There was a campaign board at the side of the road. "Reckless driving makes orphans." It inspired this, in a way.

12 years it has been.
Remus remembers every single detail of what happened all those years ago.

The death of his three best friends and the even worse fate of the love of his life didn't just leave pain or anger. It left the deepest scar one could imagine, mostly caused by the most treacherous of all feelings: hope.

It lingers in all corners of his life, ready to attack at every moment and to slowly eat away the last of his dreams from his mind.
Sirius is in a coma. He has been away for twelve years, never a moment waking up and perhaps he never even will, but still Remus Lupin keeps hoping despite of himself. He visits him as often as he can. Some people insist that this will make the loss even heavier, would Sirius die, despite of the doctor's best efforts in the complicated and scarcelely developed science of the brain, but Remus does not listen to those people. They don't know what devotion is, he thinks.

Today he is sitting at the man's bedside for a whole new reason. Well, it's not entirely new, but it has been a while since he asked. He doesn't believe it to work anymore, however.
"It finally happened, Sirius," he tells the unconscious man, fumbling a Mars bar wrapper, taking care not to spoil any of the chocolate on the clean white bedsheets. "I got the child protection office to get Harry out of that horrible family's house..."
He absently strokes Sirius' weak hand. "Walked away himself, he did, and I took care of the rest," he tells him, pride of the boy audible in his voice.

He sighs. "But I only managed to put him in an orphanage."

Lily and James, fourteen year old Harry's parents, died in the same avalanche during their ski holiday that has put Sirius in that long coma, and even though how much he tried and how many times Harry asked for uncle Remus, Lily's sister did not want to see him in her house for a single second. So Remus wrote letters to the boy, who eagerly asked for stories about his parents in his replies and politely asked about Remus too when he got older. He also occasionally asked about Sirius, but his godfather seemed as far away from Harry as Lily and James seemed. Remus had protected him from the treacherous hope when the boy had wanted to visit Sirius in the hospital, afraid that if he would see his godfather more or less alive, he'd start hoping like Remus too.
"I need you more than ever now, Sirius, because Harry needs you. Only direct family can take him, unless they see the person fit to care for a child. They declined my request. Multiple times. They do not even listen to what Harry has to say."

The small hospital room seems too big for the unmoving body of Sirius and as always, Remus wonders whether Sirius can hear him, wherever he is. He always tries to get him back, even though he does not really believe the stories of miracle wake ups.
"Please come back... You are his godfather. They can't but accept you."

He waits a few minutes and when nothing happens, he kisses Sirius on his lips. Years ago he would have hoped this would awaken the man to whom he had wanted to marry, but that hope at least is gone. Life is not a fairytale. And the half-life he is living certainly isn't.

Remus goes home after that. It's a flat, small, the best he can rent with his small income. It's up on the twelfth floor and last week he was stuck in the ancient elevator so he takes the stairs. He remembers how James and Sirius used to race stairs wherever they were and how they would be up sooner than Peter and Remus in the elevator, laughing and sweating and both claiming they'd won.
Panting slightly, he reaches his floor and as always counts the doors until the sixth: his own red one. The first thing he does is taking his medications. Remus needs a whole range of pills, half of them he doesn't even really know the function of. He's chronically ill, but the doctors don't know how to call it. He used to always feel tired and had a lot of mood changes because of his medications, but his friends got him through them. He used to be a weak and and extremely small child, until puberty decided he was to be taller than any of his friends.
This is the first year he's got decent pills since he was at school and his parents were still alive to pay for them. The school where he teaches has offered him support so his effectivity in teaching increases. He however still has difficulties walking stairs, running or other exhausting activities. They get worse with age, too.

He cooks himself a dinner and marks homework for the rest of the day. It is better than years before.

But there is a big hole in his life, in himself, where his friends used to be.

Yet, the miracle happens. Not more than three days later, things change forever. It even makes the papers:

MAN WAKES UP AFTER TWELVE YEAR COMA and DOCTORS TRY TO EXPLAIN MIRACLE or MYSTERY 'BREAKOUT': MAN ESCAPES FROM OWN SLEEP.
Remus gets the phone call at 4am from the excited head of the hospital himself. ("Mr. Lupin... A miracle! They'd have thought he never... but now! Sirius Black woke up!")
There is press already there when Remus arrives. He hardly even glances at them, immediately walking on to Sirius' permanent room. Someone tries to interview him but backs away when he sees Remus' face. I must look so worn... He makes his way through the familiar cold hospital corridors, past the Mud Machine (the thing makes the worst coffee ever) and runs the stairs because he doesn't trust the elevator after last week's incident. He arrives clutching his side and panting, knowing this isn't good for him. And not giving a damn about it.
A nurse is standing by the door, apparently waiting for him. "Remus," she says warmly. Half of the doctors know him by name from his endless visits, both for himself and Sirius. He reads hers absentmindedly on her name sign. She's one of the night shift people, he recalls, but she used to be here at days. He remembers how back then she reminded him of Lily. Not because of how she looks with her dark skin and hair, but how she managed to comfort him when he was so upset one day that he had trouble breathing.

"Nurse Joan... Can I see him?" He tries to look past her but he can't see anything in the dim-lot room. She nods, her dark ponytail bobbing with the movement. "There are a couple of things you need to know, though." Lupin waits, expecting the worst. It always is the worst. Maybe he's lost all his memory. Or he'll never walk again.

"He doesn't know what has happened yet. Mr. Black has figured that he was in a coma, a doctor told him about the twelve years. This was a big shock for him. He asked for you and, I am sorry, for James Potter. He's asleep now."
Remus bites his lip at that news, but he is sure he can handle this. Of course Sirius doesn't know. The horrible accident in 2002 had made the papers, the death of James and Lily Potter and Peter Pettigrew had people talking for weeks. Remus has so often wondered why he had to be the only survivor - well, Sirius too, but Remus had to bear the loss of all of them, the powerlessness of having to watch Harry grow up in a loveless family. And now his long lost friend and lover has to feel the same pain Remus has suffered over the past twelve years. He is not sure if he can bear to watch that, but maybe he can help him, and that is worth everything in the world.
"I think you can go in now," nurse Joan smiles. "Remember, we can have someone else tell him." He shakes his head to that and goes in. I won't wait any longer.
Sirius is sleeping indeed.
It takes Remus a moment to convince himself that this is normal sleep, and not the terrible coma, before he takes his place at the side of his white hospital bed, folding his hand over Sirius'.
He falls asleep in his chair and wakes up by a sound he has dreamed of for twelve years. His eyes shoot open.
"Rem?" Sirius' weak, croaking voice sounds. His grey eyes, open for the first time for Remus to see in the longest time, are searchingly looking at his face. He tries to sit up, but Remus numbly pushes him down. He can't believe he isn't dreaming. "Shh... I don't think you're supposed to sit up yet..." he mutters, staring at those beautiful (open! they are open!) eyes. Joy he hasn't felt in a lifetime flows through him, filling his veins with life.
"Suppose..." Sirius replies, his voice still not much more than a low, hoarse sound. "Rem, you're here... I wasn't sure..." He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again. He's surely seen the change of twelve dreadful years in Remus, the first flecks of grey appearing in his brown hair, the small wrinkles forming around his brown eyes.

"James?"
It is silent for a moment. The single name seems to echo through the room even though it's so small no echo could ever exist.
"He died." It is silent for even longer after that. "James is dead... and Lily. And Peter." The names feel strange on his lips.
Sirius regards him with sad grey eyes. "I knew it, I think. I.. I saw him fall and-" he breaks off abruptly. "What about Harry?"

"He... He's fine, I suppose. He lives in an orphanage now, a fine lad of fourteen years." Remus allows himself a little smile. "Exactly like James, but with Lily's eyes, there is no mistaking that."
"I'll take him in once I can."
Remus smiles at him. "Once you're stronger."
Sirius nods slowly as nurse Joan knocks on the door post. "It has been ten minutes, Remus. We mustn't force his waking hours, the doctors said."
He nods in agreement, pushing his hair back.
"No..." Sirius says quietly. "I want to ask one last thing, then I'll sleep as much as you like." Remus knows Sirius doesn't want to sleep, so this must be a burning question if he so obediently agrees to terms.
"Just one will be fine, I suppose," says Joan, smiling.
Remus looks at Sirius questioningly.
The dark haired man looks more distraught than with any of the other questions. "Rem, 12 years is a long time. What about... you know..." he looks around helplessly for words. "Do you still love me?" he blurts. "I understand if you don't, but-"
He is cut off by Joan, who is smiling at the two of them. "They say Remus has been here every day he's been able to come. They call him 'a part of the furniture'. I do not think you need to question his love, Mr. Black."

After that, things get better.

Slowly but steadily, Sirius recovers. He relearns to walk, his never ending persistency making his steps more confident and longer by every passing day.

He learns to control dizzinesses and eventually they fade.

Harry visits, his face full with delight when he realises that he can live with his godfather once he's out of hospital. He is so much like James, and Remus catches Sirius more than once staring at the boy, knowing what he is thinking of.

There are also bad moments. When he falls for the thousandth time. When he feels trapped between the white walls of the hospital. But Remus and Harry help him through.

There are two golden years. Sirius recovers, and Remus doesn't have too much problems with his own illness, either. The medications are working. He isn't a part of the hospital furniture anymore, and neither is Sirius, who is now alive as never before, glad with every second granted him.

However, all golden ages come to an end. Remus hasn't even noticed a thing, which probably makes it worse, but one night Sirius goes to sleep and never wakes up again. An abrubt heart attack ends his life.

How ironic he'd die in his sleep.

A peaceful death, the doctors say. He didn't feel anything, they say.

But Remus feels. Harry feels. They sit in silence for days after, the only sound the clock ticking, until one morning the boy lunges the clock at the wall and Remus tries to stop him, holds him, says there is nothing you can do, you have to go on, Harry. You have to go on.

He holds him then, the ache in his chest growing, and they both cry.

The funeral is empty, meaningless and Remus can't even remember the main part of it later. Doesn't even know the faces of the people giving Sirius one last goodbye. He feels like he's said no goodbye at all.

There is a girl, he remembers, who holds him when it's all too much. I'm Tonks, she says. Nymphadora Tonks, but forget the first name. He takes to calling her Dora, because it feels softer in his mouth. He can use some softness after cold, unmoving bodies.

His world becomes Dora. Dora, Dora, Dora. She's young, he is old. She doesn't care. His world brightens a little, and sometimes even, he can forget about the dark haired man who was called Sirius.

Harry encourages Remus to marry her after two years and he sees how love also takes his friend's son by the hand, and even how the boy becomes happy as he was in their little golden age.

When Remus holds his own son in his arms, he thinks he is, too.

As the car crashes into his with a deadly force, forcing the last breath out of his and his wife's lungs, Teddy is his last thought. Another orphan for nothing. But it is reassuring that Harry is there, he vaguely thinks. Sirius. Dora. Teddy. Teddy, Teddy, Teddy.

Remus never got to be happy for long.

But maybe, just maybe, in death he gets the time he deserves.