Carve Me Open / r.l. + s.b. /

Swear This One You'll Save

"and we grew apart when I thought
we'd grow together."
-via Ben Maxfield

A/N: Omg guys, this chapter never uploaded!! I am so sorry! You didn't miss anything too terrible. I swear.

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London, December 1979

Sirius kicked an old beer bottle down the sidewalk, an irritable growl bubbling from his throat. This was absolutely not the way he wanted to spend his Saturday night. Not in the slightest. Nor was this his idea of "watch." For God sakes, his apartment had been ransacked by none other than Lord Voldemort himself! Shouldn't there be more action? More wand usage and ass-kicking? Why were there no snatchers or Death Eaters roaming the streets? So far, he'd only encountered a feral cat inside of a trash can and an elderly woman with outdated attire – which was a monstrosity in and of itself. He was positively bored, and he had been for nearly six hours; not to mention, he'd been paired with Benjy, of all the bloody people in London.

"Don't look so sour," Benjy sneered, cigarette idle between his perfect teeth, "it could be monumentally worse."

Sirius scoffed, "I advise you to shut your trap before Moody makes his rounds."

"Constant vigilance," Benjy cackled, rolling his dark eyes around in their sockets. "The enemy has no limits – no restraints. He will attack without hesitation, and so should you."

At this pitiful attempt at humor, Sirius grimaced. He could launch into the speech that lasted a full six minutes without a stutter from memory alone. Moody's inevitable advice before sending any younger member of the Order out on patrol had been, of course, constant vigilance. If he heard it one more time, he might've just closed his ear drums with cement. Hearing it from his least favorite person in the world just made it all the worse.

"You're like a child," Sirius sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I can assure you, Mr. Black, my lovers – past and present – do not share that sentiment," Benjy teased, a shameless wink following the flash of his lustrous smile.

Sirius gagged, "What the fuck is the matter with you? That's disgusting."

Benjy, small in comparison to Sirius' figure, tailed his partner as he idled around the empty sidewalk, "Oh, come on, Black! I know things between you and Remus ended on a bitter note, but you can't stay alone forever."

Sirius slowed his pace, shoulders slumped miserably. He'd done such a wonderful job of expelling thoughts of his previous partner; his mention was rare, typically followed by crossness and tension by every party, and it was agreed that avoidance was the best route to follow in regards to Remus. It had worked, for the most part, and time marched forward as it always did. Soon enough, his name was only a passing subject in regards to enemy Werewolf dens or attacks on small towns. It was as if he'd never been a part of their group but part of the enemy's, and that's what had angered Sirius the most.

The only people who seemed to still ache from his absence were Sirius, James, and Lily – the only loyal people in their little Order, so it seemed. From time to time, they'd take a patrol near his flat, watching him walk home from the Emporium, shoulders slouched and brows furrowed. He stayed alone for the most part. Actually, he was always alone. Morning, noon, and night, Remus remained isolated from the rest of London – from the rest of the world – only emerging for work and groceries. Sometimes, as if by chance, his amber eyes would flicker over the stray dog on the corner, dark and mysterious, and frown.

Did he know, Sirius wondered. Did he know it had been Sirius watching over him, protecting him from the surrounding dangers of Death Eaters? Probably not.