The View
Jesus, he felt awful. His body ached, his head pounded, he was completely winded from hauling himself up the stairs in this state, but it only served to make him drink more in an attempt to feel different than he did right now. He stumbled back and forth against the railing of the lookout, running his hands through his hair and down his face, willing himself to stop thinking, to not cry. He pulled out his smokes and sat with his legs hanging over the edge, lighting them in quick succession and taking deep inhales.
It wasn’t just Sirius dancing with some girl, he was the fittest guy in school and perhaps the flirtiest alive, Remus was used to having to see him touch people or be touched by people. It was the reminder of what Remus couldn’t ever be that made his blood run cold. Someone bold enough to take what they wanted, someone who could be deserving of the attention Sirius gave, someone who wasn’t as broken as Remus was.
Sirius lived in the spotlight, he delighted in all the eyes on him as he entered a party or loudly spoke his opinion- how could Remus be with someone like that? He would only hold him back. He was right where he belonged, alone in a cold tower, drinking himself sick like a child throwing a tantrum. He remembered doing this when he was younger, sneaking into his dad’s liquor and drinking himself full whenever he felt too empty.
Maybe he had fallen asleep a bit because it startled him as though he’d been woken up when he heard the sound of footsteps echo up the stairs. He snapped his head backward off of the cool stone wall to see who it was, a massive mistake as it sent his world turning, and watched as Sirius arrived breathlessly to the top of the stairway.
“Moony!” he snapped, which startled Remus again as he attempted to stand, the world tilted as floor rose to meet his face before Sirius grabbed his hand, pulling him up and away from the edge. He seemed mad, at Remus he’d guess.
“What is wrong with you, get back from there,” Sirius scolded again, definitely mad.
“What isn’t wrong with me, Pads,” he attempted a witty reply but he wasn’t sure if his words were coming out right as Sirius only puffed out a breath and stared at him like he made no sense at all.
He pulled himself out of Sirius’s grasp and took a few steps backward to regain his footing from the movement. He watched as silver eyes moved down to take in the bottle that was nearing empty and the pile of cigarettes he had smoked through, Sirius’s face took on a look of pity. Remus turned away to look back out at the view, hands gripping the rail for stability, and fixated on the stars as they stood out brightly from behind the dark outline of trees. He hated Sirius’s pity more than anything.
“I think you should go, Padfoot. Your party needs you.”
Sirius sighed heavily and walked over, bunching his fist in the back of Remus’s sweater, and turned to meet his eyes. Though he felt like he could barely hold his eyes open, he saw the grey in Sirius’ turn cloudy like the sky before rain.
“What’s going on with you, Remus?” he spoke softly but it didn’t disguise the shakiness in his voice.
His head pounded with anxiety at the question, he couldn’t do this right now, not in this state. He felt his stomach turn and his body flush with heat as he tried to think of some response that wouldn’t let Sirius know how shattered he really was. He was saved from having to speak as he leaned further over the railing and finally allowed himself to vomit.
He could feel Sirius rubbing circles into his back while also trying to prevent him from careening over the rail, his dark head of hair came to rest on his shoulder. Remus could hear quiet sobs choking out of himself and lifted a hand to feel his own face slick with tears, as embarrassment welled up inside him. He was an absolute fucking mess.
After he was sure he couldn't puke any more he sank back down, pulling Sirius with him, who wrapped Remus up in his arms. He felt a damp cool on his shoulder and looked down to see his sweater wet with Sirius’s tears. He pulled back to face him and couldn’t look away- Sirius’s face was red, his eyes were bright with tears, trails of them running down his cheeks and dipping into the corners of his mouth where it sat with a frown, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. His hands released the back of his sweater, rising up to smooth out brown, curly hair.
“I- I don’t know what to do,” his voice was thick, breaking, as he searched Remus’s face like he could give him an answer.
“I’m sorry, Sirius. Please, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, his heart felt heavier than it ever had as he frantically pawed at Sirius’s face to wipe the tears away and restore it to the smile which had before looked so unbreakable.
He never should have been given the power to make someone like Sirius cry, look at what he's done with it. He wasn’t meant to be around others, he was meant to be kept in a cage, a safe enough distance away so he couldn’t hurt anyone. He turned to cry into his own shoulder, unable to stomach looking at Sirius anymore, and scrambled out of his reach. He could try to go to these parties, hang around people like he was one of them, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t be. He was a thing, not a person.
He moved to grab the bottle again, to taste something other than vomit and tears, when Sirius lunged forward and gripped his wrist. Remus looked up and saw disbelief color his features, he looked angry again, something Remus could accept. He should be angry with him, not crying on his shoulder.
He tore his wrist free and finished off the bottle, never looking away from Sirius’s gaze, daring him to hate him.
____
Sirius took the steps two at a time as he climbed up to the top of the astronomy tower, mind racing with what he would say to Remus to make him allow his company. He reached the top stairway and froze as he watched Remus sitting with his legs dangling from the tower, no railing to stop him from a swift fall to his death. As he turned his head to face him, he looked like hell, absolutely pissed and eyes barely open, he gave a large sway- clearly dizzy from having turned his head so quickly.
“Moony!” Sirius screamed out on instinct as he ran forward to grab Remus away from the edge, and watched as he made an attempt to stand up that sent him tumbling face first into the stone floor. Sirius barely caught him in time to stop him from smashing his own head open.
“What is wrong with you, get back from there,” he said, out of breath. He was still picturing Remus out here alone, falling through the rails with no one to catch him. Pictured the blood that would be pouring out of his head if he hadn’t gotten to him in time. How could he be so stupid, he was the brightest one in this place.
Remus slurred out, “What isn’t wrong with me, Pads,” and it hit Sirius like a punch to the gut. He was in a dark place tonight, that was clear to see, but Sirius hated when he talked badly about himself. He knew bits and pieces about what Remus’s home life looked like, knew that it wasn’t all that different from his own, and could tell when he was repeating some idea he’d been told before. His gaze dropped down to see a smoking mountain of cigarettes that sat next to a bottle of firewhiskey with only maybe 3 shots left to it.
He yanked his arm out of Sirius’s hold and fumbled back to the edge of the building, causing his heart to falter again in his chest. The guy can’t walk but he insists on being centimeters from a 60 yard plummet to the ground, what was he playing at being up here in this state? Sirius tried very hard not to think that Remus might not care if he fell. That he might welcome it even.
Sirius was shaken from his thoughts when he heard Remus speak more clearly, “I think you should go, Padfoot. Your party needs you.”
He quickly snatched at Remus’s sweater to hold him back and turned to stare into amber eyes. He looked at Sirius with a forced distance, like he was trying to prove how fine he was, but it couldn’t touch the hurt that shone through on Remus’s face. Sirius’s voice came out unsteady when he spoke.
“What’s going on with you, Remus?”
He was pleading, really. Sirius couldn’t go on with the distance between them, especially after seeing this. He could instantly see Remus’s eyes widen as he panicked trying to think of something to say and Sirius felt like he’d just cornered a scared animal. He felt mean for having asked it as it sent him into clear distress, the sweat on his forehead building, his face turning pale like it was drained of blood. Remus lurched forwards against the rail and released the contents of his stomach, sobs ripping through him as he did.
Sirius tried to soothe him, rubbing against his back, but he couldn’t help the tears that ran out of him as he watched his best friend fall apart. Hearing Remus sob like this, he hadn’t ever heard it before and he felt like it was tearing him in two. When Remus dropped down to the floor, he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around him, to bury his crying face into that soft sweater.
As he pulled back and looked Sirius in the eye again, Sirius ran his hands up from the sweater to clutch at his hair and smooth it back down. How was he supposed to help? What was he going to do now? He couldn’t give Remus space if he thought that this was what he would do with it, but he never learned how to comfort somebody or how to show care. Remus’s face was a wreck, shining with sweat, snot, and tears. A display of anguish that deepened when Sirius spoke through his tears, “I don’t know what to do.”
He watched him crumple into a look of pain which he had never seen, even through the worst of his transformations, as he sobbed out apologies to Sirius. His mind was racing, his head hurt from the strain of crying. He felt helpless as Remus wiped at his tears, he didn’t want an apology, there was nothing to be sorry for. Remus was the one hurting and here he was trying to ease Sirius’s mind. He wanted to help him, wanted him to feel better but he could think of no way to do so, and just ran his hands through brown hair uselessly.
Eventually, he jolted out of Sirius’s grasp, and clambered further away from him across the cold stone floor. He leaned his back against a pillar of the wall while Sirius scanned through his mind to think of anything he could’ve done to send Remus back like that. Maybe he shouldn’t have let his hands linger in his hair, against his jaw, he was meant to be consoling him not making him uncomfortable.
When he looked up to apologize and saw the bottle back in his grip, he shot out a hand to stop him. The absolute last thing Remus needed was more alcohol and Sirius was baffled that he would try that in front of him. Had they not hurt enough tonight? Did he need to make things worse on himself? Sirius was sick of watching Remus in pain and couldn't stand to see him put himself through more. When he ripped his hand away from Sirius’s grasp and brought the bottle to his lips, his eyes burned through Sirius like he was reveling in maximizing his own torment.
He felt himself break for the millionth time that night as he realized Remus was trying to prove to himself that he was the one in control of his suffering.