Hospital
Remus.
Remus sits in the interrogation room at the police station, flipping the card between his fingers and trying to keep his mind distracted while he waits. They felt the need to chain him to the table in front of him for swinging at an officer who grabbed him while he was zoned out. Of course he didn’t mean to hit him, it was more a reflex than anything. Remus doesn’t understand why the episodes have been this bad, usually the memories of his past only haunt him in the night, in the safety of his cell, only himself for company. He doesn’t want to admit to himself that he has an issue. That they. He. Might have taken such a large part of Remus and decided to haunt it till he draws his last breath. Until now, he could pretend that he was fine, that he was normal. But he was no longer left by himself, everyone wanted to know everything, crawling into his mind and shoving at the titanium walls of the box that hides all his feelings and memories. And when the box doesn’t budge, he is left again to sit numbly on the cold metal chair and try to adjust the handcuffs, so they don’t put so much pressure on the broken skin beneath his bandages. He wants to see Sirius. He wants to lay his eyes on him and assure himself that he was alive. He wants to talk to Effie and get the hell out of here. He wants to go home. To see his parents. His childhood best friend. He wants to be normal; he wants his life back.
Remus shifts his weight on the metal chair he’s been sitting on for hours and wonders if things would go quicker if he stood up and threw it at the mirrored glass built into one of the walls. Tugging at the metal bindings holding his hands to the table, his anger builds rapidly. He thought police were the good guys, why have they left him chained up in a room for so many hours. He needs to pee but there is no bucket, he needs to talk but there’s no one to listen, he needs Sirius, but no one will give him answers. He felt as if he'd never left the cell that caged him for all his teenage years.
Remus was exhausted, his body heavy, his head barely able to move from where it is propped against his arms that were still chained to the table. It was extremely uncomfortable, the handcuffs violently digging into the wounds on his wrists. But, Hey! At least he isn’t getting tortured! He is waiting for it though. He keeps imagining a police officer waltz through the door and start beating him again and again and again.
When the door finally reopens, Remus bolts straight up in his seat, already bracing for impact. A small, curly haired woman stands in the doorway, eyes taking in Remus’ haggard appearance.
“Oh, dear. What have they done to you?” She takes a cautious step into the room and shuts the door in the officer’s (who was accompanying her) face. “I’m Effie. I believe you met my husband earlier?”
Effie. That’s right. Someone that should listen. She might know something about Sirius.
“Sirius? Please tell me. Is he alive?”
Effie blanches, “Have they not told you anything? Yes, Sirius is fine, just recovering from the surgery he had to undertake. He’s resting in the hospital, where you should be going off the look of things.”
Relief hits Remus like a brick wall. Sirius is all right. He might be able to visit him soon, right after Effie and him talk. The problem is Remus doesn’t know how to talk about it. He’s spent so long by himself, being mistreated and tortured, that he doesn’t know how to socialize anymore.
So, he just started talking and Effie sat down and listened. He told her everything about that last day, and the day he met Sirius, and that he was there for about 7 years, that he thinks he’s 17 but doesn’t know the date anymore, all the while choosing to skirt around the worst of his past. She doesn’t need to know about that. Or the flashbacks.
When he’s finished sharing everything he wants to say, Effie glances down at his wrists still cuffed in iron and the card he was nervously fiddling with. His bandages were red with blood as the handcuffs continue to bite into his already torn flesh. “I’m ringing Monty. You are not in any state physically or mentally to be out in society already. Your body looks extremely malnourished, so we need to check you out, okay? The hospital isn’t far from where they found you all. And I want to set up some appointments between us if that’s okay with you? We will also see if we can get a hold of your family, if we can find them, they can meet you there.”
~~~
The hospital was overwhelming to say the least. Remus didn’t know what was coming or going, kind of floating through the motions and trying not to lose his head. He rode in the back of an ambulance, sitting up because he refused to get strapped down to the bed even though he had collapsed as soon as he tried to stand up from the chair in the interrogation room. Effie rode with him but they didn’t speak, Remus stuck in his mind, trying to think straight and failing, with Effie letting him be but casting concerned glances his way every few seconds. Now he was lying in a sterile room, the pure white paint burned into his irises. He had a drip coming out of each arm, he was so close too ripping them out and running away. His bandages were fresh and no longer had blood soaking through them. According to the records he snuck a glance at when the nurse was tending to him, Sirius is in the room next to his. And as soon as he could stand again, he was going to find him.
Apparently, Remus was very malnourished and dehydrated that his body reached a point where it couldn’t function and heal his wounds at the same time. No one had come to visit him yet, but he was holding up hope that Effie would track down his parents and they’d all be as happy as Larry. A couple of hours later he fell asleep, dreaming of how his family and him would make up all the lost time.
It’s a day later when he wakes, curtains thrown open, Effie sitting in the chair next to him reading. Remus felt better today, less heavy, more stable. His head didn’t feel like it was exploding, his body was stronger, healthier, and his hip was grateful for the rest it hasn’t had in a long while. He should plan how he’s going to sneak into Sirius’ room today, maybe test his legs and balance. Where’s his cane?
He sits up, trying to locate the tool he relies so heavily on. Maybe a little too suddenly as Effie startles and drops her book on the floor. “Remus! Oh goodness me, you scared me. How are you feeling?”
“Fine, where’s my cane? What time is it?” Before she has a chance to respond, Remus takes out one of the IV’s tossing it aside before plucking out the next. They’d obviously been changed over from when he was previously awake because they were full again. “I can’t move with those in.”
“REMUS. Don’t stand up, don’t move. We’re getting someone to come put them back in, right now.” She hits the call button above his head and blocks his path to stop him going any further. Remus’ legs were swung over the edge of the bed, debating on whether or not Effie might kill him if he attempts to stand. He remembers his mother using that tone when she caught him doing something she explicitly told him not to do, but he guesses he always pushed his luck with her as well.
Pushing past her, he limps to the door, clinging onto the furniture he passed to take some of the weight off his leg. He really needs to find his cane. Effie rushes after him, she was talking but they were blurred to Remus as he grasped the door and yanked it open. The hospital was bustling, nurses and doctors rushing from room to room, worried families gathered in groups babbling nervously in hushed tones. Remus wished his was there. Waiting and worrying about him, but it seems like Effie and her team haven’t managed to find them yet. Remus strides to the next door, his legs dangerously shaky under all his weight, and peers into the room through the little window in the door.
There on the bed was Sirius. His long hair untied and wild, eyes closed, lips parted. He was okay. He’s alive. Remus opened the door quietly and slipped inside, taking note of the small messy haired boy slumped over the visitor chair, asleep. He looked familiar, but he couldn’t tell if that was because he’d been at the ceremony or if it was because he looked so much like Sirius. Despite of his curiosity towards the boy, he needed to be closer to Sirius. He perched himself on the edge of his bed, hesitating slightly before gently grasping one of Sirius’ cold hands. The contact made his heart leap, and butterflies awoke in his belly. He wasn’t leaving him again, no way. Having come to this conclusion, Remus shuffled closer to Sirius’ side and gently laid down next to him, their bodies instantly melding with each other, Sirius curling into his arms even in his slumber. Remus’ legs dangled slightly over the edge of the bed, but he didn’t mind, not when he had Sirius pressed so close to his body, arms wrapped around him protectively. He did not dare breathe too loudly, or move too much, in fear he’d accidentally break the little world of the two of them. Peaceful and content for the first time in years, Remus fell asleep curled around Sirius, forgetting every other thing outside the two of them. Effie watched from the doorway, as the three slightly broken, mostly traumatized kids slept, and she promised them silently that she would help them live again.