Gravity Rides Everything
Remus woke to a migraine with throbs of pain shooting through the left side of his head and a sharp stinging in his right abdomen. He felt the weight of living sink back into him. He needed a smoke, a drink, something. He could tell the gashes weren’t so bad this time, but he still hesitated to open his eyes and accept the end of his mindless sleep. When he realized he could sense Sirius watching him, he couldn’t resist looking and opened his eyes with a slight grimace. The brightness of the room burned, the mid-afternoon light shining in streams through the windows.
“Morning Moons,” Sirius said gently, noticing his stirring, “How are we feeling?”
He looked gorgeous, if tired after staying up all night corralling Remus, his pale skin glowing in the light and inky black waves of hair falling messily across his shoulders. Sirius was curled into the small chair facing him at the foot of the infirmary bed, though he sat at attention when Remus gave another grimace as he shifted himself up.
“I’m fine Pads, it’s nothing,” better than anything he had known before his friends had become animagi anyway. Where he used to come to in blinding pain, he now woke to headaches, an occasional slash, and the classic bone deep fatigue that accompanied him in the days surrounding his transformation. He could handle himself just fine.
“Right,” Sirius rolled his eyes and fought a smirk, “You do know you say that every time? I might believe you more if you changed it up a bit.”
Remus would never get over the relentless care his friends showed to him, the way they took it in stride when they realized what he was. It was nearly unnerving for him to be asked so often if he was okay, he still hadn’t adjusted to anyone caring yet and hadn’t a clue how to respond. He figured it best to ease their minds as he can’t always be whining over every ache and pain.
Madam Pomfrey pushed back the curtain, ignoring Sirius entirely, and stepped to Remus’s side presenting him with a group of potions to take. “Good, you’re awake. Just a few of these and you should be able to make it back for dinner if you feel up to it.”
“Got to go” Sirius mouthed to him over Madam Pomfrey’s back. As he rose from the chair and exited he sent Remus a theatrical wave and feigned utter heartbreak at his needing to leave.
Remus couldn’t help the laugh he huffed, even with the surge of pain it prompted in his head. He knew they were useless, but the feelings he had for Sirius never let themselves go unnoticed. Just his presence in a room made the room warmer, more alive somehow. He supposed it was just the way Sirius was, a magnetism to him that drew everyone in and charmed away any tactless act he was sure to have just committed. To have this boy give so much of his priceless attention to him was unbelievable to Remus, and he felt forever undeserving of it. The room felt colder for him having gone.
_______
Sirius couldn’t stand the lycanthropy. He truly was not sure if he was strong enough. Given his upbringing you would’ve thought him better adjusted to witnessing pain, hearing its screams, seeing the gashes in skin. Walburga was in no sense a motherly figure to him and Regulus, and the two had taken their fair share of lashings from the woman over whatever she might deem as improper behavior. Yet still, seeing Remus’s body break apart and reform, watching him tear into his own side- or worse seeing the cuts remain and surge with blood as he returned to his human body- it was something that Sirius would clearly never get used to. How many months had he been doing this- taking his canine form and witnessing this? But here he was again, climbing into what had to be the world’s least comfortable chair for the chance to see that Remus would be alright.
He looked over his sleeping form and felt such an awe about the boy in front of him. The tan skin of his face was accented with the white and pink traces of previous scars, the outline of his body lay bundled under the infirmary covers. He looked peaceful enough but Sirius knew he wouldn’t be able to shake the uneasiness that settled in his gut without hearing him speak and prove he was okay. What he went through with his transformations and how he could remain so kind and soft in his day-to-day life was remarkable. Sirius only had to see Walburga on the occasional trip home and he felt like she impacted his actions always, even if it was only to behave as antagonistically as he could. He knew it made him brash, having to constantly exercise his right to feel tall before she could tear him down again, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
A frown passed across Remus’s face as he blinked open his eyes and looked down the bed at him.
“Morning Moons, how are we feeling?” He tried to speak softly as he knew Remus’s head was sure to be killing him.
Remus fully winced this time, pulling himself to a more seated position and providing Sirius with the magic words that could alleviate the worry lodged in his chest. Sirius never believed a word of it but it was almost routine at this point. He was sure they both understood what it meant. It meant that Remus was feeling like himself, that he was going to be okay. It meant that Sirius could breathe again, he didn’t have to wait up and pace, make himself sick with worry all night like he used to before he began staying with Remus until he woke.
“I’m fine Pads, it’s nothing.”