Growing Up

Part 38.

Remus moved incessantly on the couch, hardly staying for more than a few seconds at a time in each spot. His bones ached against the foundation of the couch, his skin feeling all that touched it. It was excruciating, being acutely aware of every stimulant that interacted with his nervous system. Sirius' heartbeat behind him filled his ears, and his usual smell of a forrest after rain had rotten in Remus' nose, smelling of more like a mildewed patch of dead foliage. This was perhaps the worst part of it all.

"You alright?" Sirius whispered from the kitchen. Remus heard him at a normal voice.

"Yes." Remus mouthed back.

Remus stood up and winced, hearing his joints squeak out in despair. opening the door, he said nothing to Sirius, but he followed anyway. He was glad Harry wasn't there, and more thankful that Minnie had offered to take him for the night. She knew the two would be 'occupied', and kindly suggested the option. They eagerly agreed.

Sirius didn't hear him when he called out something from the shack. He was inside grabbing the pack of cigarettes on the counter, then walking out and admiring the cumulus clouds stacked above the orange sun. Remus limped in, sitting on the ground and trying not to make a pained face. Sirius saw it anyway, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing two.

"Those will kill you, you know?" Remus held his hand out, to which Sirius flicked his wrist and tosses it.

"Yeah okay, James." Sirius chuckled and snapped, a flame appearing above his thumb. It was a quite efficient trick Sirius learned when he started to smoke, and used it more as a party trick than a practicality.

After a while to Sirius and an eternity to Remus, the sun had gone down and Padfoot started to trot instinctually. The dark evening fell over the sky, and Remus requested water to be near him when he woke up. Padfoot nodded and began to walk out. If he wasn't focusing on the timing of his visit, perhaps he would've seen the thorn bush that spread out like weeds near it. How did they let Harry out here? Maybe it was inevitable, he didn't notice it when they walked out.

A searing pain shot up his right paw causing him to yelp and fall away from the bush, whining like a puppy. To what would've been excessive and violently vulgar cursing, Padfoot got up and sprinted to close the door. With each running step the thorn pushed itself further into the pad of his paw. He could feel his eyes begin to sting, but they didn't water. Remus was no longer in the talking mood, the moon was up past the trees and quiet gruffing came from inside. Sirius had yet to notice that he hadn't closed the door quick enough.

***

Remus woke up freezing.

"No shit," He thought. "You're outside."

His hands pushed him up from the ground slowly, mild vertigo washing over his vision. As a teen, throwing up after trying to stand, or often sit up, was common and after a while expected. This habit dulled after some years, but it was strong enough to slow him down. With his eyes instead of his entire head, a trick he learned after many years of nearly debilitating nausea, he glanced over to where he last saw Sirius.

The water bottled that was knocked over stood next to a dried stain. Without a second thought, he assumed it was his own blood and went on. Expecting to see Sirius sprawled out on their bed, Padfoot was passed out on the cool floor. Remus almost jumped at the sight, and didn't understand why Sirius wasn't Sirius. His eyes didn't flutter under his lids, and his mouth was closed except for his snaggletooth.

"Hey, pads." Remus whispered as he limped closer. Padfoot's chest rose softly and fell again.

"Sirius?" Remus asked again, leaning over. He now saw the stained grout and wood, and the paw that rested off his other so it didn't touch the floor. The fur around it had become glossy, and by the looks of it, crunchy from the blood caked into it. He took the paw in his hand, and it didn't take long to see the fair-sized puncture wound.

Remus crouched, wincing as he did, and gently lifted his snout up.

"Hey, answer me."

Sirius whined quietly, his eyes opening one at a time.

"Oh you big baby, you can take the thorns out."

***

After about an hour of early morning healing, which was always particularly a pain in the ass, all the thorns were out, and all cuts healed.

Remus sat at the side of the couch reading, his feet on the other arm.

Sirius walked to the front of the parlor, plopping himself onto the carpet.

"Do you ever feel like we're a lightning rod for bad situations?" He asked.

This was interesting. Sirius never really liked metaphors, he always felt they were unnecessary, and were "meant for Moony's vocabulary only".

"Interesting term, but yes." Remus responded.

"I just don't want Harry to be the same. It's hard to think that he could lose one of us, or even both."

Remus looked at Sirius, confused. Death had been a reoccurring factor in most of Remus thoughts, and the things happening around them for a while now, but saying it out loud made it a little more serious.

He had no response, so he just looked at Sirius and nodded.

Now, as much as Remus knew he wasn't a parent, and Harry wasn't his child, he could still feel the detriment of being one. He could feel the detriment of having such a close attachment to a child, and knowing it could be taken away in an instant was horrifying. Loosing the two people that meant the most to him would tear his world apart. It would shatter him, break him in half.

But love is like that. Whether it be to someone you could spend the rest of your life with, or someone you hold close to you. Most people couldn't bear the thought of parting with the person you built that connection with, but Remus  accepted it. There is nothing stronger than the human heart, that will split one hundred times over again, and will still live.

Not once had he wanted to say something so bad, to let his words flow, let their raw meaning hit the air as they did.

"You okay, moony?"

Remus stayed quiet.

Word count: 1097