4 sierpnia 2000

Mr Moony presents his compliments

 


R e m u s   L u p i n

When I was little, I used to ask my dad to check for monsters under my bed. And then I became one. Of course, not one of my friends would agree with that statement but that’s why they’re my friends, they like me anyway. I felt like I was different ever since my father started asking me not to speak with other kids about not feeling great once a month and my mother started looking at me with pity whenever nights gradually became lit by the fuller and fuller moon. I knew they were sorry for me, and frankly, I was sorry for me, too. I was a great student to show everyone that I could do it, but ironically couldn’t really pursue any respectable career because of my special condition. I’ve tried, but people pretty quickly start to catch on that something’s not right when you can’t work for a few days out of every month and aren’t even a woman. But ultimately, that only leaves me with more time to dedicate to standing on the right side of the brewing war. Fine, maybe I’m not exactly a monster. Maybe I just have a little bit of madness within me.

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  1. They were only twenty minutes into the meeting and Sirius was already feeling boredom hatching somewhere in his lungs, making him force down a yawn. Honestly, it wasn't exactly how he imagined it all would look like. Not at all. Because all of the meetings he had attended to so far consisted mostly, if not only, of talking - or, more specifically, sitting and listening to the reports given by older, more experienced members of the Order.
    And to be perfectly honest, that wasn't quite how Sirius would enjoy spending his free time... okay, he would storm out of here after like five minutes if he was anywhere else. But this was the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix he was in, and it was Albus Dumbledore himself who was doing the talking at the moment, so Sirius didn't really have any choice now did he. This may have been more boring than he had imagined, but that's how his life looked like right now; they had a damn mission to accomplish and a certain evil wizard to defeat after all, he could bear a little bit of boredom and resist the desire to try and balance his want on the top of his nose so that it wouldn't fall fown on the table immediately.
    And yet he couldn't supress this funny little sensation of excitement tingling in his chest when Dorcas' patronus disappeared, leaving the message and just a bit of chaos. As one could expect, Sirius was one of the first to jump to their feet, wand in his hand, absolutely ready for action, because finally, bring it on, and in James' eyes there was the same kind of excited glow when they smiled at each other above Peter's head. They have been waiting for this moment since they first stepped into this building - for a chance to prove themselves in a real battle.
    He felt energy and adrenaline rush through his whole body, stirring every single cell in their wake, when he stood beside other members, ready to disapparate on command. His eyes met with Remus' and he couldn't help but grin widely at the other man.
    "C'mon Moony, let's go kick some Death Eaters' asses," was all he had the time to say before Dumbledore gave an order and the first few people disapparated with loud crackle. Sirius had no problem with focusing on the destination, having visited the Leaky Cauldron countless times and knowing the place well enough to know his way around blindfolded.
    He felt a rush of air and a brief sensation of being nothing before he snapped back together with a familliar slight sickness to his stomach. There was really no time to think about it in the middle of a middle battlefield they found themselves on though.
    The sky was steel gray and the alley pressed between the wall of a brick building and the main entrance to the Leaky Cauldron was way too narrow for all the people in it. Sirius ducked quickly, avoiding a spell spiralling his way, and he could have sworn he felt the white light brush on his hair.
    "Fuck!" he hissed angrily to himself, then waving his wand towards his newly found opponent. "Depulso!"
    The masked Death Eater was thrown backwards with huge force, landing on the ground a few meters away and Sirius jumped to his feet again. People were screaming and spells were flying around, sparkling in the evening air, one of them exploding way too close to Black, making his head spin a little and ears ring unpleasantly, but not depriving of the ability to fight - he would claw someone's eyes out if that would be the only possibility of self-defense he would be left with - but it wasn't an easy fight. Or maybe it was him who wasn't experienced enough, but nevertheless the Death Eaters were simply outnumbering them.
    "Where the hell are the Ministy's people?! Weren't they supposed to help us with eliminating the fucking threat?!" he shouted over his shoulder, not sure exactly who was he shouting to, at the same time using the Full Body-Bind Curse on a really ugly witch who tried to drown him in a jet of water springing from the tip of her wand.

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  2. Chaos filling up the dark alley felt heavy and dense, almost tangible, hanging in the air and crackling with this specific kind of electric energy associated solely with spells being casted and incantations screamed all across the place. It was omnipresent, filling up Sirius' lungs and making him want to cough it out, as if it would make the pain in his left side, right where he was hit by a rather big chunk of wall from one of the explosions, go away. This whole situation felt so weird, so surreal, because no more than five minutes earlier they have been all sitting by the table and listening to Dumbledore's calm voice, and maybe his brain was still refusing to accept the simple fact, that now there were Death Eaters pointing wands at him and he had to struggle to stay fucking alive, with just a bit of panic clenching his throat and making it a little harder to think than he would like it.
    For a fraction of a second he felt an overwhelming desire to turn into a dog, to feel the familliar weight of bone structure changing and his mind being turned into a much simpler one, to feel less suffocated, less in danger. Being a dog was almost always safer and better in every way possible, but then some strangely familliar voice screamed Avada Kedavra! and Black from his position at the other side of the alley had a chance to catch a glimpse of greasy hair and a green light crashing against the brick wall about ten feet behind Remus, and suddenly the temptation of turning into his Animagus form became about hundread times stronger, because it would be much harder to rip Snape's throat off with his bare hands than with his teeth. Not impossible, but harder. This little fucker!
    He was ready to lunge in their direction and set the damn prick on fire when white light exploded right in the middle of the battlefield, revealing a group of Aurors, and right then they looked like ancient gods coming to the rescue. Spells started flying once more, something exploded again, someone screamed in pain and Sirius was hoping with all his will for it to be one of the Death Eaters and not his friends. He didn't see them, he didn't know where they were, and damn him if it wasn't the worst feeling he could imagine at the moment - being left alone, unsure whether or not he will see them alive again. He was fighting, he was suppresing the urge to shout out James' name or rush to look for Moony or at least shoot a glance to look for little Pete, because Wormtail wasn't really prepared for all of this, but it turned out that neither of them was. They had to be alright. They just had to. It's just a fight, the first of many to come, right? Nothing bad could happen.
    And well, yeah, Remus didn't really look all that bad when he somehow landed on his butt in front of Sirius, apparently thrown back by the strength of one of the spells he managed to block. Black tried not to make his sigh of relief too obvious.
    "Up you go, Moons, I don't want to scrape you off the wall," he pulled his friend up, helping him to get back on his feet. He had to use a Shield Charm somewhere along the way to avoid being blown up, but the good news was the Aurors turned out to be really helpful and soon the fight simply died out. Death Eaters began disapparating on the trot the exact moment they really started losing, leaving their unconscious comrades on the ground, and soon silence fell in the alley, unnatural after so much screaming and crashes. Sirius felt a shiver run down his spine and the adrenaline slowly wearing off, leaving him tired and sore.

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    1. "Alright," he huffed to himself, rubbing his side, which still stinging a little with pain. He shot a glance towards Remus and smiled as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "You okay? Shame this little bitch ran off back to his lair, we would have shown him how to cast the Unforgivable properly. Twat."
      His eyes laid on James helping Lily to stand up; she seemed to be limping a little, but it didn't really seem like something serious. Peter was nowhere to be seen, probably helping with the wounded or doing something inside. It was almost calmful, as if the fight and the screams were just a bad dream which ended when someone turned on the light, waking Sirius up.

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  3. Sirius frowned a little, watching Albus Dumbledore's back striding away from them and at the same time struggling to recall seeing the Hogwarts' headmaster fighting along with them. It was hard to remember, though, with all of these witches and wizards trying to stay alive by killing or at least disarming others, with one of his best friends being almost killed by the same guy they were making fun of just a few years earlier... he gritted his teeth at the memory, his blood starting to boil again. Next time he'll see the damn little flea he will break this huge nose of his before giving him a one-way ticket to the afterlife, just to make sure other ghosts will make fun of him too.
    It was the feeling of Remus' hand on his shoulder, warm even through the layers of fabric, that brought him back to the reality. Black smiled again, meeting his gaze, and waved his free hand dismissively.
    "What, this? It's just a scratch, will heal fast on its own," he laughed and, as if trying to prove his point, patted his side. Sparks of pain that the movement and pressure sent flying through the left side of his chest weren't really all that nasty, but still quite unpleasant, making him wince minutely, still with a smile he had hoped looked at least half as soothing and carefree as it should. "See? I'm fine. Nothing to worry about here."
    He paused, glancing at the main entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. Frank Longbottom was helping Pete get one of their wounded inside.
    "But you could go give that sweet smile to someone else. I bet Dorcas would be delighted to see it, especially after you've basically saved her life," he couldn't help but waggled his brows at Moony. It's not that he didn't enjoy seeing it. He did. Gods, he did for the past five years or so, and Remus' smile had seemed to be just so rare an occurrence these days, and honestly, Sirius didn't want to share it with anyone. But as much as he would like to come back home and curl up on the couch with a mug of hot coffee, well, they were still out in the field and leaving others without the help of every pair of hands possible just wouldn't suffice.
    And there was always the fact that Sirius Black was, well, Sirius Black. And he wouldn't miss any chance of teasing his friends, no matter the current situation.
    Now that the Aurors have left, the members of the Order were actually left with little to no choice; they could have took their wounded back to the headquarters and help them there or healed them right here and now and then send them home, with no dragging them all over the city and making them apparate and disapparate. The decision itself seemed quite clear.
    And even though, Sirius found himself strangely reluctant when it came to entering the pub. He should, he knew damn well he should, his friends were there, one of them wounded, and this loyal, caring part of him tried really hard to rush him inside. But the other part was still trembling a little, unsure as to in what condition he will find people he had known for years- God, he didn't even know if all of them were alive! And he was simply scared to go and see himself.
    They have all been prepared for the duel part of the battle, for casting spells and curses and trying their best not to get killed. Some were prepared better, some... well, not so good, but still they knew what to do. And this- this was something no one ever told them about. What should you do after, when the dust falls down and all you are left with are your wounded comrades and thoughts racing like crazy in your own head?

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  4. They have lost two people. Two of them will not come home this night.
    Sirius' breath hitched in his throat and he could have sworn his heart just skipped a beat or two. There was something heavy in his chest when he stared at Dorcas, talking, gesticulating, alive, and suddenly all this situation felt so unreal again. He had to swallow thickly around the bump forming in his throat, afraid his voice will tremble and break right in the middle of the sentence.
    "Sure. It's not like we're going to get scared by a little blood and run away, right?" he shrugged and smiled anyway, as if nothing was wrong at all, and besides smiling was his default setting for difficult situations. And this definitely was a difficult situation. People were hurt, people were in need of help and people were dead because they couldn't save them. Because they came too late or weren't just qualified enough or... anything really, it didn't matter now, there was no way to change it.
    The Leaky Cauldron looked and felt even worse than the battlefield itself, and Sirius didn't really thought it was possible until he inhaled the heavy smell of alcohol, sweat, dust and something that could have only been the stench of death, and right then and there he realised how lucky he was to actually be alive. He was going to be okay and none of his friends have been struck with a green light, and really, he should be so happy just because they have survived, but somehow he couldn't find any happiness lurking inside him. Just fatigue with some grim thoughts attached to it. And honestly, he was grateful for the chance to get out of the demolished interior to help Frank get the rest of the members of the Order inside. It was easier than staying with the suffering and those in pain; easier to focus on the task and stop thinking about everything that has happened or could have happened, and besides, Remus was right, he was good at healing spells, better than Sirius, but then again, wasn't it a norm since their first lesson in Hogwarts? Moony has always been the best when it came to magic, or at least learning magic, and being the part of the Order, helping others and fighting the evil suited him so much Black couldn't help but wondered sometimes how someone this kind can actually exist, let alone be friends with the rest of their crazy pack.
    They have lost two people, and Sirius didn't even know who they were, too afraid to ask. His friends were still alive and, as selfish as it could sound, it was all that mattered to him at the moment. He was smiling when someone called him to help with one of the wounded, a young witch, younger than himself probably, with a very nasty leg injury, then to Edgar Bones with his almost-healed splinched forearm; apparently he tried to disapparate to avoid one explosion or another, but not everything went according to the plan. It wasn't a nice view, but at least they weren't dying. None of them was and soon it turned out no more help was needed. The wounds have been healed and the Leaky Cauldron was starting to look more like its usual self again, thanks to some clever spells. Black sighed with relief, approaching his best friend, seated on one of the tables.
    "Here are everyone's favourite lovebirds," he patted James on the back and gave Lily a nearly flirtatious smile. "Everything alright here with you, guys? Evans, you look stunning with this black eye, seriously, right now? I would date you."
    He earned hismelf a stern look and a laugh when she pushed him on the shoulder.

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    1. "We're fine, Mr Funny, why don't you go check up on Remus before he works himself to death? You boys should go home already and rest," was it just him, or did the last sentence was adressed to James, too?
      "Fine, fine, no need to use violence. I'll leave you two to yourselves then, take care," one more pat on James' shoulder and Sirius left. Peter was nowhere to be seen - again - but at least he knew the kid was alive and well. And he spotted Remus in the back of the room.
      "Hey, roommate, isn't it about time we went home?" was basically all he had to say, because they both were tired, sore and dirty, and he was damn sure there wasn't much else they could do staying in the pub, or whatever was left of him, in this condition.

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  5. It was good to be home again, away from all the suffering, destruction and choking dust hovering in the air even though the fight itself has ended a long while ago. Really good, even if the sudden silence and peacefulness of their living room was so oddly different from the rush and hubbub of the nearly destroyed Leaky Cauldron. The sole memory of the spells flying around and people screaming suddenly seemed like a bad dream, like something that just didn't happen, because it was so quiet right now and honestly, it made Sirius feel a little uncomfortable. Just a bit, in this strange way when you're not exactly sure what is real and what's not and it itches somewhere deep inside, but still.
    "Sure thing, Moons. You know Evans would kill us if we lost. Or if any of us ended up dead," he muttered with a sly smile, feeling the weariness piercing through the relief of being safe and sound. Well, maybe not exactly one hundred percent s o u n d, he thought, feeling his side ache a little again; it wasn't as bad as it was an hour ago and he didn't really pay it any mind. He's had worse, right? And Remus would immediately sit him down on the nearest chair and treat him with the most complicated healing spell he knew, just to be sure he wwould be okay, trying to lecture him about getting wounded in a battle and taking care for himself at the same time. He would rather avoid all of this fussing about nothing.
    And then it dawned on him: everyone was hurt, one way or another. Everyone, except for Mooney.
    He didn't notice it before, his mind tangled in other things that literally just screamed for attention. But now, back in their shared apartment, he had every oportunity to think everything through; to pay attention to the detail, small things that happened to slip his mind before. And Remus was undeniably as fine and alright and good as anyone can be after almost getting hit with an Unforgivable Curse. It was... strange. Sirius still felt his side, James was unhealthy pale and limping last time that they saw him and Lily's fiery red hair became tangled and heavy with blood from the wound on her forehead, and Peter... well, he didn't really know what's up with this kid since he didn't see him since he helped Frank get all of the wounded to the safety of the Leaky Cauldron, but he was pretty sure that something not so good happened to him as well. And then there was Lupin, standing in the middle of the room all healthy, with no indication of being in any sort of pain. How was that even possible?
    "A drink would be nice," he agreed anyway, with a smile, again, because really, he was just tired and when Sirius Black was tired, stupid ideas started to sprout in his mind. Even more stupid than usual. "And the bathroom is all yours, the last thing I think about right now is washing myself so you're gonna have to live through the stench of a dirty dog."
    It was his way of handling stress - an unpleasant situation turned into joke often didn't seem as bad. And he seriously had no intention of taking a shower, so why not saying it out loud.
    He didn't watch at Remus disappearing in the bathroom, choosing to take a short trip to his own bedroom to find a t-shirt that wouldn't be covered in dirt and soaked with sweat. Stepping back into the living room and feeling a little better wearing something smelling with laundry detergent rather than battle and holding two whiskey glasses taken from the kitchen, he opened the small cabinet and glanced at the small alcohol collection.

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    1. "You okay with Firewhisky?" he called out, hoping Mooney will hear him over the sound of the shower. "It's the only thing we got, anyway. Oh, wait, no, there's this muggle thing Lily brought like three months ago... bourbon was it called?"
      He took the bulgy, but still ellegant-looking bottle filled with brown liquid and gave the label a concerned look. They never opened it, but it had almost 70% alcohol content, and Sirius had a feeling they could use something strong, especially today.

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  6. The muggle alcohol had a strong, heavy smell, just what Sirius needed at the time. Maybe with any luck he will manage to get drunk and fall asleep right where he's sitting, forgetting about everything that they went through this evening - and everything they still had to go through before this war was over. And he felt like it wasn't exactly a long road that had no turning.
    He poured them both a drink, roughly about two fingers each, but the bottle ended up on the coffe table within his reach, because really, who wouldn't want to get dangerously intoxicated when people are dying, and it would be hard without any alcohol anywhere near. The amber liquid seemed to glisten in the dim light of the living room when he swirled it around in his glass, tempted to start without Remus.
    Sirius wasn't ever very good at being patient - alright, not good at all, but it simply wasn't his cup of tea and everyone knew it from the way he always tapped his fingers against flat surfaces and narrowed his eyes when he was feeling quite impatiend and irritated - and it was a good thing he didn't have to wait too long this time, because somewhere between the silence of the apartment and the distand hum of the water in the shower his thoughts started to race in dangerous directions and suddenly he found himself being so scared and unsure of the future he almost sighed with relief when Lupin took his seat beside him. Black shot him a wry smile before downing his drink quickly.
    "I have no idea," he admitted, pulling a face at the all-too-familliar feeling of alcohol burning his throat. Then he poured himself another one, because damn, he very well deserved it. "Honestly. But it doesn't feel like we're doing anything, let alone something that will actually matter in the end. I just... I don't know, I thought it would all be different, I suppose. Guess I imagined less dying and more happy endings, but then there's the reality, storming in through the door and punching me right in the face, and now nothing feels good at all and I got the feeling nothing will ever be okay again. You feel me?"
    Maybe he shouldn't look at it like this. Maybe he shouldn't say any of this, because it was Moony who was listening and the last thing Sirius needed was his friend thinking he's some sort of a coward looking for a best occasion to evade the fighting - maybe he should still be his over-optimistic old self and keep his thoughts to himself, maybe this would be the best option for everyone. Maybe he should have shut up when he had a chance to do so, but then again it was too late now anyway. He shifted in his seat, kicking his shoes off - why didn't he do it earlier again? - pulling his feet up on the couch and his knees up under his chin, just as he always used to do when he wasn't feeling well, ever since he was a little child, and it always made him feel a bit like he was 8 again, scared and not knowing what to do.

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    1. "'m sorry, Moons," he muttered, turning to face Remus and resting his head on the back of the couch, a drink still in his hand. It was a little better now that ne was curled up in the safety in their flat, even if the sudden attack of doubt still didn't seem to have any intention of passing. "I shouldn't... listen, it'll all be fine, we'll be fine, the war will be over before you know it and everything will be back to normal again. You'll be the big nerd you are and I'll always interrupt you with your readings, and Prongs and Lily will get married, and Peter will dance through the night with some nice girl we'll find him, and maybe I'll even manage to get you drunk so you can have some real fun for once. We'll all be better than we've ever been, you'll see, just don't mind my babble, alright?"
      And even though he really, really wanted to mean it, he simply couldn't shake the feeling that nothing will ever be the same. Because people were and will be dying, people they knew, people they loved, and it would be so damn childish of them to hope things will magically come back to the pre-war state, and this strange little feeling was starting to tingle somewhere in the back of Sirius' mind and he wasn't quite sure what it meant, only that something didn't feel right, aside from all the things that obviously were wrong on so many levels he even refused to think about it.

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  7. All of this wouldn't be so hard if he just cared less. Caring less or simply not caring at all would definitely be the best option in this kind of situation, because if you don't care then nothing really gets to you. Nothing hurts with this kind of pain which makes you want to claw your eyes out and rip your heart right out of your own cheast and it feels like you're dying inside, but outside nothing seems to be wrong and your body just stubbornly keeps holding on. Caring less would mean emotional safety and stability, and no danger of tears running down his face at the sight of his dead friends. Because it was war and wars mean death. People have died and people will were going to die and nothing could have change it. That's just how the world is.
    Sometimes Sirius really wished he would care less. He wished he could just turn off his feeling when it was most convenient, when things were starting to go wrong or being a dog just wasn't enough to make him feel safe and at ease, or at least more safe and at ease than he felt while being human. But his feelings didn't work like a light switch and dealing with them was the only thing he could do. He was Sirius Black after all, the one with tons of stupid ideas per minute, the one so loyal, so devoted to his friends his animagi form turned out to be a friggin dog. Saying things like this - that it doesn't matter, that they weren't doing anything, let alone anything important - wasn't fair. It wasn't fair towards Remus.
    Because Remus mattered. Because Remus didn't deserve to hear his complaints and doubts as he clearly had his own on his mind right about now. Remus was always too good and there were problems outside of the war he had to deal with and he didn't need any more of them, and Merlin, how could Sirius be so awfully stupid to let himself babble without giving a second thought to what he was actually saying? He should be the one protecting and cheering others up. The one always going on about something irrelevant to let his friends, his family something to wrap their minds about and forget about anything that has happened.
    "Sure, I just... Merlin, I'm sorry. Seriously. I don't really think any of these. It was idiotic, I'm idiotic, and tired, and my head is statring to hurt, and I just want to get dead drunk so I can forget who I am and what am I doing here. So pour one for me too, Mr. Bartender," with that said, he offered Moony, who was reaching out for the bottle, his own glass, emptied too fast for his liking. "And, you know, I still think you would look cute with Dorcas. She likes you."
    Something shifted awkwardly in his guts at his own words and Sirius could have sworn it was the same strange little feeling as before, only it felt completely different. Almost like disgust. The sudden realisation that he didn't really mean it wasn't helping at all; sure, he just wanted to tease his friend a little and reel their thoughts away from the uncomfortable topics, and yeas, Dorcas liked him, but he was completely sure - or maybe hoped? - it wasn't in that way, and besides, didn't she like everyone she considered friends? On the other hand though, there still was a chance Remus will smile at his not-so-serious remark, and every chance of getting his to to that was worth a shot. Because Remus' smile was one of the most beautiful things Black has ever seen, always making his heart do a little happy jump in his chest. Like a rare treasure these days, not seen often, and thanks to thateven more precious and worth remembering. There were times Sirius let his mind wander at the sight of it - how would those lips taste like? How would it feel, to leave them red and swollen and their owner, this school smartass, speechless? It didn't hurt anyone to fantasize, as long as it was just a fantasy, right?

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  8. Something shifted inside Sirius, something clicked loudly and unexpectedly, clenching tightly around his stomach and threatening him with the possibility of simply throwing up all the bourbon he has poured into himself. He always thought he had a strong head for alcohol, especially with all the summer nights when he stole Firewhiskey from his father's cabinet and almost emptied them all by himself, looking for a way out of the family problems, way of escaping from his mother's screams and the heartbreakingly honest look on his baby brother's face every time Regulus was telling him to finally stop fooling around and start listening to their parents instead, start being a good son, a good Black boy and a good heir. He drank quite a lot as a kid, right before running away and spending the rest of the summer holiday with the Potters, so it felt like something obvious, that he could bear four or so glasses of some muggle stuff. And yet apparently the muggle stuff had more impact on him than he thought, or maybe it was that he just really was being tired and weary, but still impulsive and passionate as always, because suddenly he found himself close to smacking Remus on the shoulder for all the idiotic things he just heard from him. Seriously. No one talks like this about his friend, even if it's the mentioned friend himself, especially when the same friend is being drunk and flushed in a way that is definitely too adorable, the cute moron, who even gave him the right?
    "Oh don't you dare say that," he grumbled, looking at Moony with something like reprimand and anger in his eyes, only a bit blurred with the alcohol that has been somehow transported from the bottle to Sirius' stomach somewhere along the last half an hour of their evening and he wasn't even sure how did that exactly happened. He only knew it did and that he was irritated. But also pleasantly warm and cozy on the couch, with Remus smiling to himself, and it felt like home. And apparently because all of that he just couldn't get angry enough, so he decided to settling at pointing finger at his friend in a gesture that was supposed to be admonishing. "Don't you dare. You're super intelligent and kind, and so sweet with people you like, and trustworthy in every possible matter, and you'd beat the shit out of me if you wanted, with or without the wand, so don't you dare underestimate yourself like that. You could as well be a fairy or a whale or anything really, I still wouldn't care, and neither would James or Pete or Lily. Or Dorcas. You're Remus, no matter what weird shit you change into every month. And if anyone judges you by your furry little problem then I damn solemny swear I will personally hunt them down turn their dumb ass into a pretzel. Maybe even give them fleas."
    It was a good motivational talk, right? Because Lupin apparently needed one. Deserved one. Maybe even more than one. Sirius narrowed his eyes, looking at him suspiciously, tempted to add something like when was the last time you looked into a mirror? because somewhere between third and fifth year you started looking way too pretty with those curls and hazel eyes of yours, how can you not even see that, but stopped himself before he could say something he would regret later. He really didn't want to kill the mood; Remus looked so relaxed on the other side of the couch, the tension of the fight now completely gone, and suddenly Sirius didn't trust himself enough to get any closer, so he decided to just stick to his own side and blamed it all on the alcohol. It was easier than trying to figure out his own feelings anyway. He attempted to do so on multiple occasions while being sober and it didn't work out.

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  9. Sirius was drunk and it was just easier his way, really, just like with being a dog – less complicated, less complex, less… hard. No one expected you to say elaborate things or talk abort your feelings and you yourself didn’t expect yourself to do any of these too, and most of those intrusive thoughts, one of those having a habit of lurking in the nooks and crannies of your mind and attaca you in the most inconvenient moments, just disappeared. You could just… say and think whatever you felt like, because more ofthen than not you wouldn’t remember it in the morning anyway so it didn’t hurt anybody. It was better, more comfortable, so he just couldn’t help but smiled. At Remus, at himself, at the fact, that for once they were relaxed and at ease, with no unwanted tension brought them by the war raging outside their doorstep whatsoever. And most importantly, at the thought of Lupin being a fairy. An old-fashioned muggle fairy, just like one of these from the movie for children Lily showed him not so long ago, with Tiny, almost transparent wings, dress made from green leaves and chubby face, showering everything with some sort of yellow powder. Pixie dust, was it called?
    "Yeah, well," he muttered, smiling against the edge of his glass as he downed the rest of his own drink. He still frowned a little when the alcohol burned in his throat again, noticeably less than after the first gulp, but still. "If you want to get any more cuter than this," he gestured sloppily in Moony's general direction. "then I got a feeling I’ll need a lot more alcohol. No one can handle so much loveliness all at once while being sober. Do I have to get my ass up from the couch and bring some Fireshisky or do you intend embracing your furry little problem and not exchanging your tail for a pair of wings?"
    Yes, he most definitely was drunk. Funny, because it never occurred to him that he could get intoxicated after something like three (or maybe four?) glasses of some muggle stuff. And maybe because he was drunk, he didn’t really care abort anything he was hearing.
    If anything happens.
    Something inside him shifted again, almost as if trying to warn him, to bring his attention to the fact, that this shouldn’t slip past him unnoticed, should causa him at least a little bit of koncern, because it wasn’t normal. Or maybe it did? His head didn’t hurt anymore, but his words were blurred and the room seemed to be spinning slightly around him, so he decided the best solution would be simply ignoring the faint warning his mind, dulled with alcohol, tried to give him. Then he remembered a nice quote from one of the books he read – okay, attempted to read, but it just wasn’t his fault it had so many pages and besides, At least he tried his best – and thought it was amusingly fitting. He also couldn’t think about all of these today. He’d go crazy if he did. He’ll think about it tomorrow.
    "Well it's nice to hear. I may be a terrible person, but I’d still do anything for you. You’re my friend after all… the only one who can stand me and still be metally stable enough to try and tell me not to do things," he laughed, putting his now empty glass on the coffee table and stretching with a lazy smile. "You’re the best, y’know? I have no idea what we’d do without you. What I’d do without you. What time is it anyway?"

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  10. It was weird to hear any kind of ’I love you’s from Remus, but honestly, right now Sirius was in no position to judge. He couldn’t even be sure if all of this was real. Was he really drunk enough to imagine stuff like this? Was it even possibile to get that smashed on a few glasses of alcohol?
    Yeah. Yeah, it definitely was. There was no better explanation for what Sirius just heard anyway, so the logical choice was to just… go with it. No questions asked.
    "Right," he mumbled, trying to look awal from his friend and not look or feel extremely awkward at the same time, because honestly, what was his mind doing? "Beds. Right."
    He wobbled a little while standing u pand had nothing to hold on to to regain his balance, but somehow he manager to stay on his feet and avoid falling down on the couch again. Or worse, on Lupin. It would be weird, right? Of course it would. Some part of his mind didn’t think so, but it definitely would. This little part was always the troublemaker one and it was better not to listen to it right then and there, for both of them.
    How they even managed to empty a whole bottle of alcohol in what felt like half an hour, tops, was far beyond his ability to perceive reality and think clearly. Alright, he didn’t feel like thinking at all, about anything, maybe except for the bedroom and sleep, because damn, did his brain focus on the concept momentarily and refused to back down until Sirius actually puts himself to bed. All of a sudden he was more tired than he thought he was, then he thought he could ever be, and maybe it was the fight that took place, or maybe the whole not-so-motivative talk with Remus, he didn’t know and he didn’t care, what mattered that he was going to get his beauty sleep or murder someone to get it, there was no third option.
    "Think you could use some help getting to the bedroom?," he asked, setting his empty glass on the coffee table, next to an equally empty bottle (why were his hands shaking and why was he so irritated because of it?), and then shooting Moony a wide, lazy smile. "'Cause I sure do. I’ll escort you if you’ll escort me."
    It was a normal thing to ask, and besides he got a feeling that both of them wouldn’t be exactly able to reach their bedrooms without any help. Nothing weird, totally. Just a mutual favour. And a chance to get closer to Remus than he was right now, standing besides the couch and trying to ignore the fact that the room was spinning a little and his mind was trying to wander every time he laid his eyes on Lupin, so he had to stop himself from falling into the ocean of tons of weird thoughts that tried to invade his brain. Really, what was in this alcohol? What did muggles add to their whisky?
    He took the risk of moving forwards a few shaky steps, resisted the urge to lean on the back of the couch and play with Monny’s hair – there was no blond in his veins at the moment, he decided, only alcohol with subtle hints of spaghetti sauce that he’s had yesterday evening – and eventually reaching out and grabbing Lupin’s hand as he was getting up. Just for… stability. Yes, stability. That’s it.
    "Come on, let’s go to sleep, we had a rough day and we both deserve it," he said, smiling again, with that stupid, all-too-wide drunk smile, but didn’t do anything to move them towards their rooms. Just because. He was intoxicated, he had every right to do illogical thigs.

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  11. It wasn't that Sirius has been naturally overly suspicious and tried his very best to find something that simply wasn't there in every possible situation. No, he definitely never could have been called this kind of a person, or at least he didn't think he could. The thing was, he was just perceptive. And so he started noticing things, for the first time... well, it was hard to pinpoint the exact moment, but maybe it was a few days after their little drinking party and maybe it was there even before that, maybe he just... but it didn't matter anymore, now did it? When all of that really started?
    No, whispered something deep inside him, making his mind hum with something like anxiety. No, of course it mattered. Because if something was wrong, and something definitely was, even a blind man would see... if something was wrong, then why didn't he notice earlier? He should have.
    He wanted to talk it all through, to clear the atmosphere, because everyone always used to tell him communicating with others is the best way to solve your problems, but Remus magically was just never there. Never. As if he didn't want to talk, didn't want to even look at his friend, and for a frightfully long while Sirius thought it was his fault. Because what if he did something wrong again? But then, looking back, no, there was nothing in his words or actions that could possibly be seen as such, that could make Lupin run away from him at every opportunity.
    So days changed into weeks and he became suspicious over time. There wasn't really any other choice, right? It was only logical, everyone would start suspecting something if their flatmate and one of the closest friends suddenly, right in the middle of the war, started disappearing and giving stupid excuses about looking for a place of their own with no evidence of them being possibly true. It just... wasn't natural. Wasn't normal, wasn't something one would just dismissively wave their hand at and ignore. And most of all, it wasn't like Remus.
    Sirius has always been one of those short-tempred people and everyone who had a chance to meet him knew it all too well. And frankly, nobody would be surprised with him growing more and more irritated in this kind of situation – Lupin obviously tried to avoid him, avoid talking to him, and most of the time he wasn't even there to be painfully silent at all. So Black was just becoming more angry and suspicious with every passing day, and couldn't do anything about it. It was hard to stay at home, alone with an empty armchair in the living room and silence hanging heavy in the air, but going out, riding, running or simply wandering through the city streets with no specific destination wasn't reallt helping, because his mind still raced with grim thoughts and apparently didn't intend to stop any time soon.
    Maybe it shouldn't be like this, but when the next battle with the Death Eaters broke out, he was almost happy to hear the news and go kick some asses again. Scared, sure, but shouting and screaming all around him gave him the opportunity to focus on something other than Remus' weird behaviour... until he saw one of the fuckers across the battlefield smile at his friend as if they knew each other for ages. And honestly, it was like having a bucket of ice cold water poured over his head. Something clicked in his mind, something fell into place, and suddenly everything was painfully clear.

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    1. Of course. How could he not see it earlier. How could he be so blind, how could he lie to himself about something so obvious simply because he didn't want it to be true? Merlin's beard, of course.
      Of fucking course.
      If someone asked him what was happening throughout the rest of the fight, he wouldn't be able to answer. Every spell, every explosion and every scream were blurred, turned into something like pulp with no meaning whatsoever. There was only the burning sensation deep inside his gut and the urge to kill someone only to vent the rage.
      They lost. It was no big deal, every war consisted of lost and won battles, and besides, they would do better next time. The important thing was, the headquarters of the Order were now crowded with people, most of them injured in some way, and it was so hard to tell if everyone was there or if someone stayed behind, unable to disapparate.
      "You seen Lupin?" Sirius asked, catching the first person possible by the arm. The young wizard, maybe a year or two older than Black, gestured towards one of the rooms and rushed up the stairs.

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  12. Somebody almost bumped into him as Sirius was making his way to the room, supposedly full of wounded and almost-healed members of the Order, and he was definitely too close to snapping. He felt cold fury burning inside him, making his chest vibrate and hum with that specific, weird kind of energy he couldn't quite describe; he only knew it wasn't the best one. His hands were shaking, his heart pounding, there was a growl climbing up the inside walls of his throat and the urge to hit someone right in the face seemed to grow stronger with every passing second, spreading through him like a wildfire spreading through a forest.
    He should have seen it earlier. He should have set the friendship and all of these weird, unexplained feelings that seemed to be hanging between him and Remus for quite a long time actually, whatever the fuck they were, aside and look at things soberly. Objectively. Like a normal person would. When did they last talk about anything for more that ten seconds anyway?
    There was chaos inside. Pure chaos. And there were people, lots of people, kneeling, lying on the floor, every single one of them dirty, sweaty, with blood staining their skin and clothes; Sirius' own hands felt somehow sticky and he felt prickling in the left side of his face - it wasn't really pleasant, especially combined with a fresh memory of a burning hot air that had hit him earlier, but he still considered himself damn lucky, since it wasn't the fire spell itself that he got hit with. And even though, right now, he didn't mind... didn't even think about having it treated, not because there were others wounded in a much worse kind of way, but because the only thing he was seeing right then and there was Lupin.
    A new wave of anger crashed against him, pushing him forward, towards the traitorous bastard looking and talking all so irritatingly innocent it made Black's hands shake even more violently with the need to punch Remus' nowe into his face and demand him to take his filthy hands off of one of their friends. No, not theirs. Lupin was no longer a friend. As a matter of fact, maybe he never was.
    Instead, he just clenched his fists tightly and forced a smile on his face. It was that kind of smile, that specific one, showing no signs of happines. Of any warm, good feelings at all. Clearly forced too.
    "No idea," he hissed, shooting a glance towards Benjy. He looked fine, so Sirius' eyes quickly turned back at Lupin. Of course they were alright, it was the first thing he made sure of after apparating to the headquarters, but he would have to be an idiot to say that aloud to someone he once called a friends. "Haven't seen them. Now move, we're going back home. You won't stay here a minute longer."

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  13. Being the ever-impulsive, ever-unable to control himself in almost any sort of situation, really, and basically always ruled solely by his strongest feelings, Sirius could have sworn on his mother's grave (well, maybe not literally, knowing that she was still alive and well - unfortunately - but it's a rather nice metaphor nevertheless) that right now, he was inches from hitting his friend in the face. This time for real, definitely, he wasn't joking. There he was, he traitorous bastard, begging him to listen, to just let him explain, as if all of his dignity suddenly disappeared. Maybe he never had any in the first place.
    There was something inexplicably disgusting about the way Remus acted, the way he was looking at him pleadingly. Like a cockroach waiting to be crushed under a shoe, and really, right now Sirius was far more than willing to do that. Trample the worm standing right in the middle of their shared living room - no, Black thought viciously, trying really hard not to let his hands ball into fists and crash against Lupin's nose, or rather make his nose crash against them. His teeth ground against each other when he tightened his jaw so hard for a millisecond he was sure he will break it. Not our living room. My living room.. It would be hard for him to think about the battle itself, especially with the person he used to trust giving him those sad puppy eyes, which, to be honest, only made him more furious. It would be hard to think about all those people they have lost today, mere hours ago, maybe even not that, when everything inside him literally screamed. So he just didn't. It was way much easier to focus on the boiling anger threatening to pour out of him any second now, and really, he's always been the best at choosing what's easier and simply going with it, ignoring everything else.
    Maybe later on he would look back and just see it was the tone of Lupin's voice that was the last straw that broke the camel's back. But right then and there, he just knew he couldn't stand all of this a minute longer.
    "Explain everything," he repeated, and the cold calmness of his voice was surprising even for himself. He crossed his arms on his chest and looked at the taller man, a smile spreading across his features. "You want to explain. Well please, do go on, I'm honestly very curious how the fuck are you going to explain the fact that you are, and please don't get offended by my choice of words, a motherfucking traitor. Or should I say a Deatheater? Would that be a better term?"
    Funny thing, the enormous speed with which Sirius' moods were able to change, the way he was able to jump straight from being so composed to a personification of raging fury. He didn't even notice himself closing the distance between him and Remus, not stopping at the socially acceptable "comfortable distance", violating his personal space and pretty literally getting in Lupin's face with hate in his eyes, completely ignoring the height difference.
    "You know what's funny in this whole situation?" he heard himself hiss throught his gritted teeth. "Turns out it's all true what they say about trusting others. Everyone will always mind their own business and stab you in the back if they no longer need you to do the dirty work for them."

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  14. There was a time, a few good years ago, when Sirius has been constantly angry, almost as if his body has suddenly decided it's reached the limit of anger and it was high time for it to let it all out instead of just keeping to store it in and ignoring it's dangerous potential burning closer and closer to the surface with each passing day. He's tried his best to pretend it's just not there, and when this tactics turned out to fail on all fronts - turning the anger into pure energy. Being this loud, foul-mouthe, kinda crazy and hyperactive was helping a bit, to cover other emotions with simple joy of life and adventures with his friends. But then the school year was coming to an end and Sirius had to come home, he just had to, no matter how hard he tried to change the torments of reality with the power of his thoughts. The reality didn't even seem to be bothered, not wanting to be changed and always staying exactly the same - and in the corners of his room at Grimmauld Place, the anger lingered once more, slowly growin from a dull ache in his stomach to a burning hot rage filling him from head to toes like boiling water filling a too small bottle, making it shake only for it to finally shatter into pieces, spilling the water in every direction.
    Sirius himself felt like this bottle, ready to blow up spectacularly, both back then, between the 6th and the 7th year at Hogwarts, when he screamed at his brother, at his mother, at his father, at everything and everyone - and now, standing in his own living room, looking into the eyes of a man he once called a friend. He looked at him and saw a traitor, filthy thing not worthy of being called a human being; not worthy of anything but being crashed under a shoelace, exterminated like a cockroach. And he was angry, just as angry as he has been back then, over three years ago, in a different flat, in a different part of town, feeling so horribly, terribly betrayed by a completely different person, maybe even more than he actually should. It just hurt so fucking much.
    "Well that's exactly what you do, right?" he growled, and some part of him was honestly surprised at the sound of his own voice, the fury in it matching the one that felt like a storm in his heart. He clenched his teeth and fists, letting a digusted smile onto his face. "Fool us into thinking you don't want to hurt us, oh, he would never, our poor, puppy-eyed Remus, what a darling he is. Merlin, you're so full of bullshit, how come I've never seen it before?"
    And there it was, much the same as years before - the deadly tide rising inside him, taking over and making him lose his own sanity in the choking redness of fury. He was feeling as useless, as helpless as when his brother became something Sirius has sworn he'd never let him become; exactly as mad at himself for failing at being alert enough to notice everything going to shit. And he really knew only one way of letting it all out.
    Before he had any time or chance to think twice - or think at all, but maybe that too was out of question right from the beginning of this fucking conversation - he was already taking a swing towards Lupin's face. His fist landed on the other's nose, making him take a few small steps back in a painful surprise, and Sirius almost tripped from this sudden movement. He stood there for a while, taking in the pathetic sight of someone he once thought he knew, and the anger didn't lessen a bit.
    "Get out," was all he was able to hiss though his still clenched jaws. There was nothing else to say, really.

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  15. He couldn't move. He just couldn't, for some unclear reason, even if he wanted to spin around and yell something after his friend walking out of their flat or just look at him leave in complete and total silence. But it was the former friend walking out of his flat and honestly, the punch he landed on the goddamn traitor's face felt so awfully good he'd do it again without even thinking twice. And yet, he didn't really know why and probaby didn't even want to know, why would he, right - and yet, when he stood there, still burning with rage, looking at the empty spot where Lupin was not so long ago, he felt heavy. Almost as if someone has tied stones to his limbs, turned his stomach into a tight knot and made his heart sink into his chest, thumping like a drum - which, every single of of those things, only made him angrier. He didn't care. He didn't want to care. He was feeling furious and betrayed and so fucking hurt, and it made so, so much sense, he knew it did, but still didn't give a damn. His feelings didn't matter, shouldn't matter, and so what if his heart ached like hell because maybe, just maybe he felt something for Remus. It really didn't matter anymore, any of this, now, did it.
    And so he just stood there, trying to calm down and failing miserably, not even knowing how much time has passed since he heard the door being slammed behind him; minutes, probably, though it felt more like hours. Days, even. His limbs still felt heavy, his head was empty and thoughts refused to fill it with anything, almost as if his mind went blank to spare him the torment of realising what he did just now - but his heart was racing just the same and all he wanted to do was crawl in some hole and weep silently. And it suddenly hit him harder than he ever expected, that this may actually be what a heartbreak feels like.
    "Fuck," was the only word he seemed to remember right now, growling it to himself through the teeth clenched so hard he probably was alarmingly close to breaking some of them. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, slowly snapping out of this weird state of being both miserable and too angry to actually function, simultaneously. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck, think, Sirius, think. What do we do now. And so he did the first thing that came to his mind, because even feeling like someone has blown a huge, gaping hole right through his chest, he was still Sirius, which basically meant being as impulsive as they get. In a matter of seconds he was knocking at James' and Lily's door.
    "Gotta talk to you," he bluterd, when his best friend opened, looking like he saw a ghost, but Black didn't seem to notice. He pushed his way past Prongs, walking inside before the other man even had the time to say anything, and started talking. About the whole traitor thing, about how Lupin was making a deal with Death Eaters and didn't even had the decency to tell him that yeah, I sold you all to Voldemort, about how he couldn't believe all of this. Or at least he tried to talk while still in the hall, because then he entered the living room and there he was, the local traitor, sitting on Sirius' friends' sofa, looking like a piece of crap.
    "Well that's an unexpected turn of events," he said after a few seconds of just plain staring. He wanted to be angry, should be angry, had every right to, but somehow he just couldn't. He was tired and felt completely numb, mentally, almost as if his mind has turned off all the emotions to make it all easier for him.

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  16. For a moment there all he could do was staring. Openly staring at the person sitting in the chair in front of him, looking at his own shoes almost as all of a sudden if he found something really interesting in them. They weren't interesting at all, and so was the story that Remus told their mutual friends... no, Sirius' friends; Lupin was now officially excluded from the circle of his friends and James and Lily should naturally think exactly the same - because really, how dumb one would have to be to believe a story of "this is all a misunderstanding, I didn't betray anyone, I didn't know this guy in a mask who was clearly a Death Eater and I'm definitely not one myself, you have to believe me, me, the poor, innocent werewolf"? Idiotic, really. And pathetic too.
    And yet, they believed him. Merlin, Black couldn't believe that they did for a solid minute, just standing there, looking as confused, outraged and resentful as they get, all three at once. Instead of staring at Lupin like he wanted to pull out his want and kill him on the spot (which he probably should have done, but he didn't, and only one part of him wished he did it after all when he still had the chance), he was now staring at Lily.
    She wasn't joking. Clearly, that was serious.
    Sirius looked back at James, who was still standing in the hall with his hands crossed and determination on his face; he was serious too. Shit, were they really that stupid?
    "I'm sorry, but have you both lost your mind?" we snarled, not really knowing at who, his best friend or his girlfriend. The anger that lessened a bit after taking a long walk from his place to Merling knew where and only then (after finding himself alone in a dark alley, in a park he didn't knew, or just couldn't recognize in the middle of the night) apparating to their place, now was starting to boil in him again, threatening him to spill out in another sudden outburst of aggression. Was he the only one sane here? Was he the only one who managed to see Lupin for who he really was?
    "Are you really that blind? You can't tell me you believed in his stories. He's a fucking traitor-" he continued, his voice raising with each word, but was cut off by Lily.
    "Sirius, sit down," that was the voice of an angry mother and Sirius knew better than to resist. Reluctantly, he sat on the couch, as far away from Remus' armchair as he could, and glanced at his friends - both of them. Lupin didn't get a single look from him. He didn't deserve it. Being a traitor was one thing - being a bloody coward who still wanted to lure everyone into a trap was another. But Black was too smart to let that happen, or at least he wanted to think that of himself - he knew the truth now and no matter what James and Lily were going to tell him, now matter what they've heard from him, no matter what they believed, they didn't know a thing about all of this.

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  17. Having to sit there in complete silence, especially when his friends - his best friends, the only ones he had left now, but still best and still friends - listened patiently, not even daring to argue or question, to say a word, and believed in every single of Lupin's lies - it was very rapidly turning out to be almost too much for Sirius to handle. To endure. He found himself still shaking with anger (he couldn't make his hands stay still, and even gripping the armrests of the chair didn't help much), at one point even tried to get up and get in everyone's faces with his angry yelling and interrupting - something he's always been exceptionally good, if not the best, at - but one stern look from Lily made him abandon his plans, sitting his ass back in that chair he hated so much. He didn't mind sitting in it on multiple other occasions, but right now he just outright hated it. With every single beat of his heart (there was a lot of those, and they were only making things worse, pumping the adrenaline into his veins together with blood) and every inch of his body (not a lot of those, though), just as he hated everything and everyone in this room. In this house. Hell, in this whole neighbourhood, because why the fuck not.
    He hated James, for not taking his side. Which he used to always do by the way, damn it.
    Lily, for being too friendly and naive and not even trying to see through the facade of the Perfect Boy Remus, not wanting to believe he could have ever done something - anything! - wrong and just straight-up shitty.
    Remus himself. For rather obvious reasons.
    But then, agonizingly slowly, one small step after another, something's begun to change; a tiny but very much unwelcome shiver ran down his spine as he listened, still with an angry frown upon his face - a shiver ever so slight he would probably ignore it if it wasn't for this terrible, sickening sensation of dull cold creeping up his stomach and gripping his chest that soon followed. It felt like someone, something, a beast of an enormous strength and size, has suddenly sank it's razor-sharp claws in his body, keeping him painfully stiff in his spot, scaring the living shit out of him and not letting him move an inch at the same time. Something in him howled like a wounded dog, wanted to run away, get up and leave, but his limbs felt too heavy and his head too light, and there was suddenly not a single ounce of hatred in his body. None. All of it seemed to have just disappeared, exaporate the exact same way water does on a specifically hot, sunny day in the middle of the summer, only way faster, in a matter of mere seconds which it took him to understand what's actually going on, who the actual asshole is. It made his intestines tie themselves in a knot.
    There was a silence when Remus finished speaking, having said all that he had to say, and Sirius felt everyone's stare heavy on him. His heart raced, his blood hummed loudly in his ears and a traitorous heat creeped up his neck and cheeks. It was hard to look up from his hands - he's suddenly found them so very much more interesting than anything else in the room, not even wanting to look anyone in the eye. Fuck, Sirius. You fucked up again.
    "Well," that was a quiet word and it made its way out of his mouth before he could even think it through. Still staring at his hands, fidgeting nervously in his own lap, he shifted in his chair, cleared his throat. "Well," and there it was again, stupid little part of speech. It didn't even mean anything. It wasn't supposed to. He just had nothing else to say. And the only thing he finally uttered was an equally quiet: "Maybe I shouldn't have... jumped to conclusions. Maybe."

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  18. For a solid minute Sirius was just sitting there is complete silence; and yet, somehow, it felt like ages have passed since the last time he's moved at all. Every single one of his muscles was strangely stiff with some cold, unnerving feeling, the same one he felt in his stomach, heavy and almost like a giant ice cube that someone has dropped in his drink a bit too eager to cool it down, and now the drink has spilled all around it in an imperfect circle of splashes. He could bring himself to clean it all up; he couldn't make his limbs move, his mouth open and his lips to form words. It scared the shit out of him, made him believe, even if only for a few seconds (but they seemed like ages), he was doomed to spend the rest of his life just like this, in that miserable state of self-hatred and remorse, and the piercing feeling that his mother has been right, right for all those years, when she said he was a good-for-nothing caricature of a son and that all he could do was igniting himself with his own rage, only to burn down to nothing, taking all of his friends and family down with him.
    And then something in him snapped at the sound of Remus' voice; something was suddenly melting inside his brain, some invisible barrier keeping him away from the outside world and trapped withing the neverending loop of his own feelings. Sirius was always good at hiding behind the facade of a rebellious, carefree teenage boy, but now that he really fucked up, he suddenly wasn't that sure he was able to do that anymore.
    Lupin's eyes were sad and strangely hopeful at the same time, and it broke Sirius in a way he'd never expect to be broken in. The ice cube in his stomach dropped lower.
    "Alone. Yeah," was all he could utter through his clenched throat. He tried not to look at anyone in particular when he was getting up, throwing a little "thanks" towards James and Lily; it was enough of an uncomfortable situation for him as it was and he really didn't want to talk about it. Never again. All he wanted was to go simply home, lock himself in his bedroom and sleep until the next week, when the yelling thoughts of you fucked up, you fucked up, it's all your fault and you fucked up again again again would finally shut up, or at least be a little bit quieter.
    Obviously he wasn't lucky enough to be able to just make all that happen, at least not that easily. There was still a talk to be had, and his head was already very close to a headache from only thinking about what it would do to his guilt. But maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky, they wouldn't have to talk about it right fucking now.
    They apparated in the dim light of the street lamp in front of their building, climbed the stairs to their flat in perfect silence; didn't utter a word when they entered, Sirius opening the door as he was the last one to leave the place in anger. And then they just stood there for a while, in the same living room they've had a heated argument not earlier than a mere few hours ago, not quite looking at each other. Black cleared his throat.
    "Yeah," he said, but had no idea what he wanted to say really. What he should say. Apologise? Ask if they're good? Maybe. But honestly he just wanted to forget and never mention it again. Pretend like it never even happened. "Alright. Well. James has always had sort of a saviour complex and once it's come in handy. Guess there's no need to go back to that shitstorm now, right, Moony?" he stretched his back, yawned theatrically, with his eyes still on the floor. He tried to sound very determined, like someone you wouldn't want to argue with. "Yes. I'm not having that conversation, not tonight and not ever. G'night."

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  19. Somebody once told him he might have anger management issues, and frankly, Sirius has been denying that fact ever since, because he just didn't want to be that one asshole who's always loosing his nerve and yells at everyone without any apparent reason. And yet it kept happening, he kept getting angry because of those dumb little things that definitely shouldn't be making him so mad. But they did, oh, they did, because he was so extremely short-tempered and couldn't do anything about it. Wouldn't do anything about it, that's just the type of person he was, always ignoring all the issues and pretending it's all fine, he's all fine, everything will be fine, even if the world kept tumbling down all around him. Pretending was the one thing he was really good at, until he wasn't, because his emotions have always had a way of taking over his body and his mind and he kept running his mouth and saying things, sometimes pretty hurtful and pretty horrible things, without really meaning them, just to talk. Just to distract himself from everything else.
    If he could turn back time, he would, just to slap himself and yell at himself to stop being a bastard to the people he loves, he knew he'd do that right at the moment when he opened his mouth, but still he couldn't hold back.
    "Well maybe I don't want to think about the long run, have you ever thought of that?" he was remotely aware of how much like a growl his voice sounded when he looked up into Remus' face. He was infuriatingly tall but at this point anything would be infuriating to Sirius, literally anything. Mostly his own inability to be a decent human being though, as he's shown before and was showing now. "Maybe I want to stay the pathetic caricature of a best friend? Maybe I don't want to be your best friend at all, ever thought of that? Huh? Maybe I want to be something else, Remus, but how can I know if you won't give me some motherfucking space so I can fucking think?"
    Something deep inside him knew very well space is the last thing he wanted at the moment; being alone with himself was always the worst thing that could happen to him, especially in a state like that, when his own thoughts would eat him alive. And maybe, just maybe, he was a bit too scared to name his feelings and say what he feels out loud, because then he'd have to start thinking about it deeply too and decide that he is, in fact, in love with Remus fucking Lupin - and too scared to admit it even to himself. So he just kept standing there, biting his own tongue, staring in his best friend's face and silently hoping he'll either understand or back down. There was nothing else he could do in this situation, right?

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  20. Remus seemed angry in a way Sirius has really never seen him and that's when he knew he fucked up. Shit, did he fuck up. Again. How was this even possible for one person to fuck up so many things in so little time, he had no idea, but he knew it was bad. He should have just told Lupin he was tired or come up with some other lame excuse, anything that wouldn't lead to this, because if he was being honest, Sirius would rather be in any other situation. He'd rather be fighting two dozens of Death Eaters all by himself, wandless, with one hand broken, than feel this angry stare on himself.
    But Remus was angry and looked so furious, like he was ready to punch his friend in the exact same was as he himself has been punched earlier that day, and it was scary. Maybe the rage has left Black's body, replaced with shame and self-loathing, or maybe he was just too afraid of opening his mouth again, because he knew that if he did, some more hurtful, idiotic shit would come out without his permission. And he didn't want that. So he kept his dumb mouth shut, biting his tongue, backing away from Lupin, because the anger in his eyes was really making him shudder in a very not-good way. It wasn't like him, to act like a terrorised dog, curling his tail between his legs and waiting, afraid, for what was going to happen next, not even trying to run, not even baring his teeth to try and scare the attacker into giving up or just showing him that he too has something to bite with. He felt uncomfortable like that, bad, so far out of his comfort zone he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to come back - but then again, it was definitely not like Remus to crowd him into the back of the couch and grab the front of his t-shirt, and Lupin was looking so much like a feral animal. It felt horrible and Sirius wished he could just take his words back or go forward and yell "I'm in love with you, you bastard, don't know how long it's been, haven't realised it before but now I do", because being in this in-between stage was a true torture.
    It felt bad, so bad, but then Remus was kissing him and it felt right, oh, so right, and Sirius didn't even know what was happening at first apart from the fact that he liked it. Then, really faster than slower, he let himself relax against the other man, his muscles sore but grateful, his skin itching with the overwhelming need to be touched, everywhere and anywhere, and Black closed his eyes and opened up his mouth. The kiss was rough, felt like a claim than a love confession, but he was fine with it, didn't want fight for dominance too long anyway, quickly giving in. And when it ended, he let out a desperate sound.
    He wanted Remus to stay close, step closer, if it was possible, and suddenly being pushed against the back of the couch felt nice, especially with his friend saying fuck you again, in a raspy, low voice that made Sirius melt a little.
    "Shit, Moony, yes," was the only thing he could make himself say at the moment, too much at a loss of words to think of something witty or sarcastic. There was no need to pretend he didn't want this, because he did, so he just grabbed Lupin's shirt, mirroring the other man's gesture from mere seconds ago, and pulled him down, crushing their lips together again and sighing into the kiss. Merlin, did he want this.

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