remuslupin-mer:

siriusblack-mer:

remuslupin-mer:

He still listened, the whole time Sirius felt the need to speak. Golden eyes fixated on the heavens; seeing stars in patterns of white with streaks beyond the human eyeline blinked every so often to show he had not abandoned this world for another. That he still existed; still let Sirius run…

He could keep talking if Remus wanted. Sirius was sure that if Remus asked him too, Sirius would happily continue talking until his throat ran dry… or until Remus punched him or something. Knowing Sirius, who could talk for days, he’d probably end up driving himself into a corner where upset musings would just come rambling out of him like a trainwreck, and then that would just make everything a lot more complicated… and painful. So just as well Sirius managed to cut himself off and Remus had indeed not asked him to continue.

He tried not to let it hit him too hard when he saw Remus adjust himself, getting to his feet and turning to look at him. Properly, at least. He built himself up, held his posture and held his ground with only the slightest hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He’d said what he wanted to say [albeit a little less articulately than desired, but he couldn’t have it all]. If that’s all Remus wanted then… okay.

…Couldn’t help but crumble slightly at how tired and torn-up the boy looked.

It’d been a while since they looked at each other, face-to-face, without the awkward and burning tinges of rage behind their gazes. Stubborn and proud. But not now – at least, that’s not what Sirius saw… perhaps that’s what Sirius looked like himself, but. That was Sirius.

This was about Remus. It always had been. And it took a while for him to clock it but. Hey – sometimes you needed a smack on the head to realise what’s right in front of you.

He wasn’t aiming for sympathy [alright, maybe a little, but it wasn’t entirely intentional]. Or even, at this point, forgiveness. He just wanted Remus to know. That was probably the difference between then and now. To show how much he’d changed. Sirius didn’t do this so he could claim Remus back like some needy schoolboy. No. He did this because it was the right thing to do and perhaps apologising would make his fellow marauder feel better. Because Sirius knew for a fact he was the one who was in the wrong – always was – he just had difficulty admitting it up to now.

And it was mainly, out of respect for Remus… that had given him the courage to do so now.

Frowning – only a flicker of expression as Remus rose his hand towards his face, confused because in no way was this fast enough to be a slap or a punch, only to be metaphorically knocked off his feet by the gentleness of the gesture, almost breaking there. Why, he wasn’t entirely sure. Probably simply because… he wasn’t expecting it. And he wasn’t sure how to cope. The smile just drove that wound deeper, and all Sirius could do was muster a mirror image of one back at him, somehow suddenly exhausted too.

“…Perhaps—“ Sirius winced, suddenly missing the warmth of Remus’ hand against it’s face as it dropped, only to weakly grab Remus’ forearm as he tried to move by him, eyes downcast and lips trembling. “That’s the next best thing, then.” Still not looking up, Sirius gulped and continued. “…Forgiving each other. Because as far as I’m concerned… there’s not even anything to forgive you for.” His gaze rose, finally, head turned to peer at the scarred student beside him.

To Sirius, Remus was more of a man than he’d ever be.

If only he could just… make him believe that.

“Please… you can’t leave me just… like that… after all this…”

Remus could listen to Sirius’s voice all day. A gentle, slightly-bossy tenor with a softness and sweetness unrivaled. And a sharpness and snark that could get unsheathed like a blade in a fit of temper. Sirius always cut first and asked questions later. Remus should’ve realized that and forgiven preemptively—but forgive him, in turn, if his time of month got in the way of occasional instantaneous understandings. They each had their own difficulties. And in turn they butted heads—but like good friends ought to, they could patch themselves back up for the wounds they couldn’t reach to lick clean.

And words cut deeper than knives or spells, after all. Because words controlled the latter, and thought controlled them all.

He was tired, though, Remus was. Tired of being angry; of fighting. Maybe it was better to give in and let the animal take over. Maybe it would hurt less. If he could feel nothing at all, of course it would hurt less. What he said and did didn’t matter, anyway. People only ever looked at James and Sirius whilst he and Peter were left taking up the shadows of the respective parties in question. The wolf in the dog’s paces and the mouse quietly creeping after the deer. 

All Remus Lupin wanted was to not feel tired anymore.

If nothing else, he simply wanted to not feel ever again.

He could at least look Sirius in the eye. Perhaps the dark-haired Black couldn’t say the same—or do the same—but the wolf in Remus wanted to growl and snap; while the boy simply stared. Motionless and quiet, simply reserved and patient as ever. The wolf could wait while the dog paced.

It would take a while still for Remus to open back up to where he had been before—dry wit and sarcasm aside, he had become a ghost of his former self, drifting through halls and studies, not truly speaking and simply existing. He had a long way to go to change back to the way things were. Sirius’s dissonance had caused a rift, but it was one he was willing to smooth over if need be. If only because Sirius and the others merited more than a simple write-off in a fit of temper. There now—that was more man than beast, now wasn’t it? That was civility for you, honestly. 

At least Sirius could respect him—whereas Remus could not even respect himself, on a good day. How could he? A beast in tattered clothing trying to be a boy wonder. Trying to be better than he was, as Lucius was SO  fond of pointing out…

He flinched to a halt as his arm was ensnared, facing the doorway to the tower with a blank expression masking his features. Finally, golden eyes slid Sirius’s way, the lupine gaze dissippating enough to reveal a sort of human negligence—a bitterness and a reserved quality that showed the true depths of his weariness. 

But he kept smiling. 

Oh yes.

He kept smiling.

“I know this wasn’t easy for you, Sirius,” Remus said calmly, unmoving in his friend’s clutches. “I’m sorry for forcing you to talk about things you might not’ve wanted to talk about. I just…wanted to hear your thoughts.” He shrugged tiredly, the smile turning faintly brittle and scrutinizing at the comments that followed Sirius’s primary statements. 

Nothing to forgive? 

“What do you want me to say, Padfoot?” Remus asked softly. “Sorry, I almost killed James and spoiled your fun? Sorry I groused and moped and cussed and threw a hissy?” His eyes fluttered and the scarred figure sighed, glancing downward. “Just tell me what you want me to say, Sirius, because at this point, I’ve nothing left to add.”

Except for the fact that he’d missed the connection. He’d missed him; Sirius.

And the weight of his hand felt good; safe, strong on his arm. 

A shackle to his sanity.

Kind of a walking contradiction all his own. “Gentle and slightly-bossy”. Only he could seemingly pull that one off. Whereas when Sirius seemed to act and charge-head first which his emotion in full tow [well, he says emotion, when all we see is childish pride and the occasional burst of anger] Remus would almost always be the one behind him, the voice of common sense seeing as the pureblood had none himself. And when he wasn’t there, well. We’ve seen the consequences. Words might be the weapons but they’re nothing without thought. And Sirius knew for a fact that Remus had more of that than anybody else he knew. Perhaps that’s why it was so uncomfortable when he was silent.

Merlin forbid any sign of Sirius feeling tired. Sirius Black was a boundless figure of energy – who had gallons of air and laughter that constantly filled his lungs, an endless supply of will to run and jump and fight and simply… live. As of late all that Sirius could think of was how boring it was to do so alone. He wasn’t built to be alone. But with no family… and if he continued to act so horribly, no friends… what really was the point of all that when you had no one to share it with? Sure – there were people to look.

But that wasn’t anything near the same.

You couldn’t exist alone. To Sirius – that was impossible. And he had never felt more alone than he had those past few weeks.

…And if he had to wake Remus up with a shake or two, then so be it.

And there was that word again. “Beast”. Similar to “Monster”.

Sirius knew what true beasts and monsters were. He’d seen them – snarling and cackling and tearing things to shreds with their clawed hands and wide, maddened eyes, flashing and snapping and growling and howling…

And that was nothing, nothing anything like Remus Lupin was.

Sirius had come from a family of beasts. Cruel, heartless things – and “heartless” and “cruel” were not words that came to mind when Sirius thought of his best friend. More heart than any other wizard, and never, ever cruel. It seemed near-impossible. Not even on his more… hairy days, would he ever seem heartless. Not even cruel – not even thoughtless. Behind the hair and the scars and the tatters was a beautiful gem of a man that was so often mistaken and called coal that it didn’t even seem to realise that he was indeed, a diamond that shone. Regardless of the moonlight. It was a little chipped, but it had to be in order to be free from the ground and exist.

All humans had their chips. James had his. Peter had his. And Sirius definitely had his.

Humanity was just a little sucky at acknowledging that.

“That’s not—Remus.” Sirius tried not to tighten his hold on the muggleborn beside him as he internally flinched at the apology and the words surrounding it. “You did no such thing as force me—if you were I’d’ve dug my heels straight into the ground and kept my mouth shut like the stubborn git I am, you know me.”

His eyes widened at the questions seemingly running out at him, before turning fully to clasp both of Remus’ shoulders, brow creased not necessarily in anger… but more in frustration. At himself, if anything.

“That was my fault. If it weren’t for me none of that would have happened. You can keep trying to blame yourself for things like this but I’m going to try my hardest not to let you because if everyone played by that logic then—then nothing’d ever be resolved. You were right to be angry! You were right to want an explanation and an apology from me –more than that! You are not a bad person, Remus Lupin, and if I have to say it to you every day until that message sinks in then fine. Fine! I don’t know what I want you to say— Perhaps I don’t want you to say anything. But… damnit, I missed you. Like a… like a good chunk of me had been carved out.” He paused, not realising how worked up he’d gotten until he actually stopped talking, eyes a little wider and a pulse punching inside his chest. “And perhaps that’s why I don’t want you to leave just yet. Because I’m selfish and maybe I need you right now. Need you for what—like I know! But. Don’t ask me things like that, Remus, because I don’t know the bloody answer.”

…Remus was always the one with answers, anyway.

remuslupin-mer:

He still listened, the whole time Sirius felt the need to speak. Golden eyes fixated on the heavens; seeing stars in patterns of white with streaks beyond the human eyeline blinked every so often to show he had not abandoned this world for another. That he still existed; still let Sirius run…

He could keep talking if Remus wanted. Sirius was sure that if Remus asked him too, Sirius would happily continue talking until his throat ran dry… or until Remus punched him or something. Knowing Sirius, who could talk for days, he’d probably end up driving himself into a corner where upset musings would just come rambling out of him like a trainwreck, and then that would just make everything a lot more complicated… and painful. So just as well Sirius managed to cut himself off and Remus had indeed not asked him to continue.

He tried not to let it hit him too hard when he saw Remus adjust himself, getting to his feet and turning to look at him. Properly, at least. He built himself up, held his posture and held his ground with only the slightest hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He’d said what he wanted to say [albeit a little less articulately than desired, but he couldn’t have it all]. If that’s all Remus wanted then… okay.

…Couldn’t help but crumble slightly at how tired and torn-up the boy looked.

It’d been a while since they looked at each other, face-to-face, without the awkward and burning tinges of rage behind their gazes. Stubborn and proud. But not now – at least, that’s not what Sirius saw… perhaps that’s what Sirius looked like himself, but. That was Sirius.

This was about Remus. It always had been. And it took a while for him to clock it but. Hey – sometimes you needed a smack on the head to realise what’s right in front of you.

He wasn’t aiming for sympathy [alright, maybe a little, but it wasn’t entirely intentional]. Or even, at this point, forgiveness. He just wanted Remus to know. That was probably the difference between then and now. To show how much he’d changed. Sirius didn’t do this so he could claim Remus back like some needy schoolboy. No. He did this because it was the right thing to do and perhaps apologising would make his fellow marauder feel better. Because Sirius knew for a fact he was the one who was in the wrong – always was – he just had difficulty admitting it up to now.

And it was mainly, out of respect for Remus… that had given him the courage to do so now.

Frowning – only a flicker of expression as Remus rose his hand towards his face, confused because in no way was this fast enough to be a slap or a punch, only to be metaphorically knocked off his feet by the gentleness of the gesture, almost breaking there. Why, he wasn’t entirely sure. Probably simply because… he wasn’t expecting it. And he wasn’t sure how to cope. The smile just drove that wound deeper, and all Sirius could do was muster a mirror image of one back at him, somehow suddenly exhausted too.

“…Perhaps—“ Sirius winced, suddenly missing the warmth of Remus’ hand against it’s face as it dropped, only to weakly grab Remus’ forearm as he tried to move by him, eyes downcast and lips trembling. “That’s the next best thing, then.” Still not looking up, Sirius gulped and continued. “…Forgiving each other. Because as far as I’m concerned… there’s not even anything to forgive you for.” His gaze rose, finally, head turned to peer at the scarred student beside him.

To Sirius, Remus was more of a man than he’d ever be.

If only he could just… make him believe that.

“Please… you can’t leave me just… like that… after all this…”