Lullabies
September 12th
The treatment area of the cancer center looks just as it did last week—and likely the week before that, and many weeks before. Sunlight streams through the large glass windows, softening the harsh glare of the hospital lights. The air hums with the sound of nurses shuffling about and the relentless beeping of pumps, while the sharp scent of antiseptic and hand sanitiser lingers.
Despite the constant movement and fast-paced rhythm, that sense of stillness remains—one heavy with fear and loss. However, this morning, one corner is a bit louder than usual, a little brighter.
The three boys are squeezed into the smallest section of the treatment chairs, tucked between a wall on the left that separates them from the communal area and another on the right dividing them from the private rooms. Within this shielded space, a haven emerges, making it easy for the boys to forget where they are and why they’re here.
“Here, try this one Remus,” James exclaims as he piles a heap of a brown coloured pudding onto his spoon, moving it straight towards Remus’ mouth.
“Eugh!” Remus blurts out in disgust, pushing James’ arm away.
In front of him, a large assortment of desserts from yesterday's heist lie upon the overbed tray table. Majority of them sit open and messily half eaten—James and Sirius have taken it upon themselves to make sure Remus tastes each one so that he can find his favourite. He’s tried Jelly in almost every colour and flavour, dry chocolate and vanilla cakes, some sort of gooey caramel cream, and a particularly foul banana custard that Sirius happened to love. He only remotely liked the apple crumble, but even that had a pungent taste hidden within.
The thought of another spoonful of a mysterious sweet substance makes Remus’ stomach churn. The pudding's acquired taste has caused a pang of nausea to settle in—although, it could just as easily be from the chemo. A small bag of clear liquid is above him, hanging from the IV pole with the words ‘Vincristine’ plastered across it. At least the infusion is short today—only 10 minutes, although that doesn't include priming or flushing the line.
Sirius lost interest in the taste testing a while ago. He sits on the other treatment chair in grey trackies and an old band shirt, so worn that Remus can’t even make out who they are. His hair seems quite untamed today, curls splayed out like they have a mind of their own. That black shoulder bag is slung around his arm, as if an extension of his body. Remus watches as Sirius concentrates on the cards on the table in front of him. He bites his lip in concentration, admiring the game of solitaire. Clearly stumped, his once fast moving hands lie fiddling on the table. Had Remus not been scared of vomiting if he moved, he would have gone over to the other boy and had a look. But maybe he needs some space anyway—Sirius isn’t nearly as chatty and energetic today as he usually is.
“C’mon, last one” James urges, breaking Remus’ spell. He quickly turns back to James.
“Absolutely not.”
“Please, it’s a good one, I promise!”
“I will be sick all over you if I do.”
And James laughs, not knowing the truth behind his words. James’ bickering is shortly interrupted by the loud clicking of heels down the hall, which come to stop behind them.
“Hiya, Minnie!” James shouts. She purses her lips as she turns to him, disapproving of his naturally loud voice.
“Hello, James,” she says pointedly before looking back at Remus. “Remus, how are you today?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“How did Friday go?”
“It was okay,” he answers, pausing before adding, “I don’t think I’ll go again.”
“Well, it’s always there if you change your mind.”
That seems to catch Sirius’ attention, and he finally looks up from his cards for the first time in five minutes.
“What! No! Don’t leave me Remus.” He pleads. “I can’t stand listening to Matilda blabber on for another hour by myself.”
“You’ve done it enough before,” Remus argues back, confused where the sudden outburst came from.
“That's not the point…” he practically whines like a child.
Minerva surveys the three boys, looking at each of them with a strange intensity.
“I see you’ve made some friends,” she mentions to Remus.
Remus pauses. He’s never considered it before, but it’s true. Somewhere between the teasing, the shared glances, and the quiet moments that didn’t feel awkward, Remus had let these two in, allowing them to entangle themselves into his life.
“Yeah, I have,” he admits.
“That’s good,” she smiles, a strange softness imposing her usual stern stare.
The moment is quickly interrupted by the loud and fast, dun dun dun dunn, of the pump.
“Oh, all done for today—good timing. I’ll go find a nurse.”
The pump continuously rings out the same beat as Minerva walks away to the nurses station.
"So, what d’you wanna do the rest of the day?” James asks.
“I’m knackered, Mate.” Remus replies, “I think Sirius is too.”
“No. I’m fine, why would you say that?” He snaps.
“Dunno…You’re pretty quiet today.”
He goes to say something else, but promptly shuts his mouth when Minerva comes back, a nurse Remus has never seen before trailing behind her. The man is tall with short black hair and light green scrubs that stand out vibrantly against his dark skin.
“Alright, you boys behave.” Minerva warns. “Sirius, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Hi, King,” James beams to the man.
“Kingsley.” He corrects, pressing a few buttons on the pump. “And you must be Remus.”
Remus nods.
“Nice to meet you,” he smiles. “Sorry you ran into these two.”
“Nah, they’re alright.”
Kingsley chuckles, taking the lumen attached to the line and unscrewing it.
“Can I flush it, King?” James asks.
“Nope.”
“Ah, worth a shot.”
Kingsley then takes a syringe filled with saline and twists it onto the lumen, pushing the solution through to lock the line. It’s cold and Remus can feel the liquid entering his body and moving into his chest.
“Okay, all finished.” He smiles. “See you all later—And clean this up.” He waves to the mess upon the tables.
“Thank you, bye” Remus says.
“See ya, King.” James adds and the man walks away with his head shaking.
As they all stand, Remus catches a look at Sirius, who hasn't said a word lately—Remus almost forgot he was there entirely. He stares blankly into the distance, as if he isn’t really here, his eyelids then begin to flutter and he sways slightly on the spot.
“…Sirius?”
“Mmmh” he begins to mumble. James goes to reach an arm out, but Sirius quickly shoos it away.
“M’fine,” he manages to slur, before his legs give out and Sirius collapses to the floor.
It all happens very fast.
The pushing of the emergency button causes a flood of rushing nurses and shouting doctors. It’s loud and messy, James and Remus are quickly pushed out of the way as a crowd forms around Sirius. They helplessly watch on, all while the distressing and deafening sound of the alarm goes off in the background.
To their relief, the mass soon parts to reveal an alert Sirius sitting up on the floor. He brushes off any attempts to keep him there, unsteadily pulling himself up to his feet. He staggers slightly, before reluctantly settling in the chair Kingsley urges upon him. James rushes over to the boy who’s slumped heavily against the seat Remus was just moments ago. He looks exhausted.
“Holy shit, where’d that come from?”
“Jus’ felt a bit dizzy, s’all…” He barely gets out.
Another nurse places the blood pressure cuff around Sirius’ arm. Remus watches how it inflates tightly, swallowing his bicep.
“Eighty over fifty eight.” Someone mutters.
“Did you take all your medication today?” Effie asks Sirius, to which he tiredly nods. She takes the thermometer and holds it above him, tutting as the little screen blears red. “Thirty eight point two.”
Remus and James listen closely, blocking out all the other sounds and motion around them, as Effie squats down in front of Sirius.
“Sirius,” Effie begins, “you have a fever.” His jaw clenches and eyes close in annoyance. “I think it’s best if we go down to ED, find out what’s wrong and fix you up.”
“They’re going to admit me, aren’t they?”
“Not necessarily, we’ll see how your bloods are.”
“Remus!” A strangled voice yells out. He spins to see his mother looking as if she’d seen a ghost. “Are you okay?”
“Me?” He asks, confused. “Yeah of course.”
She advances towards him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him tight.
“I heard the emergency alarm and came as fast as I could.” She mumbles against him. When they part, a single tear of relief runs down her face. She peers around him at the scene.
“Is your friend alright?”
“Um, I dunno.” Remus answers truthfully.
Kingsley rounds the corner with a wheelchair, looking at Sirius expectantly.
“I'm not sitting in that thing.” Sirius announces when he catches sight, crossing his arms. “I’m perfectly fine to walk down there.”
At that he begins to slowly move toward the exit, nose in the air, as Effie trails closely behind him, her arms ever so slightly outstretched—ready to catch him if he falls. A displeased but passive look on her face, as if she has been through this before.
Intrigued eyes are glued to them all as they walk past the waiting lounge. The journey to the emergency department isn't long—a lift, a few hallways and buttoned doors—but it takes considerably longer with Sirius practically shuffling the whole way. Effie has tried a few times, with no success, to get him into the wheelchair, but that only seems to agitate him more.
It’s quiet this morning, there’s only a few people waiting for triage; a mother with a crying baby and a man with a sling around his arm. They take Sirius straight through and he soon disappears out of sight behind the hazy triage walls.
Remus joins James, who sits withdrawn and terribly anxious. A hand is brought to his mouth and he begins habitually gnawing on a nail. The floor around them shakes, James’ leg bouncing viciously.
“He’ll be alright.” Remus offers, a lazy attempt to comfort him.
“I know.” He replies softly and so un-James like. “It’s just he hates it all so much, I know he doesn't always show it, but he does feel…trapped, I guess.”
Knowing the familiar feeling all too well, Remus can only nod in agreement.
It's the first time Remus has been back to the emergency room since he came to the hospital in August, but he remembers everything so vividly.
The phone call came early, just after Remus had done the morning chores. It was the GP asking for them to come in. That was the first sign, yet Remus brushed it off as nothing. They weren't exactly welcomed into the crowded office, with Dr. Elphias only giving them a gruff nod and a beckoning hand. He didn’t bother easing into it, quickly stating that the MRI results showed suspicion of enlarged lymph nodes, with a possible diagnosis of lymphoma or metastasis. His mother was confused and distressed, maybe even hysterical. She cried a lot. But Remus was silent. He stayed silent the whole trip into the city that day. He stayed silent sitting in the emergency department waiting room much like he does now. He stayed silent out of fear he might break if he spoke.
They took him straight to a room and made him sit on the bed in the middle. It was the first instance that left him feeling exposed—vulnerable and on display. He wasn't sure what to do, where to put his hands or how to sit, it made him feel a bit sick. So many people came in and out it was impossible for Remus to retain a single name or face. There were lots of questions by lots of people. He tried to concentrate on the person in front of him, but would get distracted by another taking copious amounts of blood from his arm, and Remus wouldn't know who to look at or give his attention to.
The blinding light hurt his head and it was here that he was introduced to the haunting beeping of hospital machinery. It was quite disorientating sitting in that setting for so long, Remus wasn't even sure how much time had truly passed. After the initial chaos, the room then became quiet. That’s when Poppy came in with a friendly smile. She sat down next to his mother and introduced herself, out of everyone Remus met that day, he thought she was the easiest to talk to. Poppy ordered an X-ray of his chest and Remus was happy to leave the small room, even if that meant everyone staring at him and the bloody cannula strapped to his arm as he walked down the hallway.
The next time Poppy came into the room, she brought a gruff man who went by Dr. Alastor Moody. When Alastor saw Remus sitting up, alert and well perfused, he jokingly exclaimed that he was ‘the healthiest cancer patient I’ve ever seen!’. The chest X-ray came back clear and his bloods were ‘pristine’ according to Dr. Moody. Remus didn't have cancer, it was just an overshoot from the radiologist, at least that’s what they thought at the time. So they scheduled a biopsy for a few weeks away, just to be safe, and that was that.
Remus would always look back at that moment throughout his life, so pivotal yet insignificant at the time. The false hope instilled into his mind forever left him sceptical of the words that came out of doctors mouths.
Hours pass.
Remus wonders where Sirius is. If he’s on one of those little white beds, if he’s asleep or conscious. He hopes he’s not too far away.
The next time Remus looks up, he finds James slumped over, eyes fluttering fighting sleep.
His mother peacefully leans on the wall in the corner, the lines which crease her face when she’s awake have disappeared. All of a sudden, his eyelids become extremely heavy. He closes them only for a second, just to let the stinging go away, but before he knows it, he’s fallen away into a figment of darkness.
When Remus wakes up, his mouth is dry and the windows by the reception are dark. His mother is still asleep by the corner, but the boy beside him looks just as dazed as he is. It takes a moment for Remus to see the woman who woke them both, standing above them tiredly. He quickly sits up as Effie comes into view, suddenly remembering why he is in this uncomfortable seat.
“Hey, boys.” she says gently, bending down and placing a warm hand on each of them. “So, they found out why he’s sick. Sirius has an infected PICC line. They’ve admitted him for a bit, just until his temperature comes down and they replace his line. He’ll be okay, though—try not to worry. Go home, get some rest. Remus, you’ve had a big day. James, you still have that match tomorrow.”
“When can we see him?” James asks immediately.
“Not for a few days at least.”
September 15th
The days that pass are quiet and strangely lonely. Remus would have taken this time to relax and descend into a peaceful somber, but it’s been considerably hard when Sirius takes up most of the space in the back of his mind. Most of the time he sleeps—you can’t think when you're sleeping. Not to mention Remus’ body is exhausted, it's as if the events of last week have finally caught up to him. When he can’t sleep he wanders around the flat looking for chores, or else tries to concentrate on a book. He doesn't even bother getting dressed, not seeing the point if he just stays inside all day. It’s a particularly sunny day, the world outside his window looks picturesque, summer seems to be giving them one more day before it bids it’s goodbye. Yet Remus is utterly miserable. He snapped at his mother when she suggested they go for a walk, so she ended up leaving him to cool down. Now Remus is stuck in the silent flat with nothing but his own anxious thoughts. It takes only five minutes before Remus begins driving himself insane, so in a last ditch effort to keep his sanity he picks up his phone and calls Lily. Unsurprising to Remus, she answers on the first ring.
“Hey! Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, just wanted to talk.” His voice comes out a little tense.
"Oh, okay”
“How's school?”
“Oh my god, so stressful. I think Mr. Binns has made us write at least ten essays.”
“You mean he hasn't retired yet?”
Lily begins to giggle. “Unfortunately not—I think he taught my Nan, I'm not even kidding.” Now it’s Remus’ turn to laugh, he forgot how easy it is to talk to Lily. He also forgot how good she is at noticing.
“What's wrong? Something’s up, I can tell.” She pipes up when it goes quiet.
“Nothing…” He begins. He should tell her. After all, he made a promise, and this is bothering him—he’s been sulking for days for christ sake. “...It’s just, my friends’ been admitted to hospital.
“Oh, Remus.”
“I think I'm just worried about him, which is weird cause I haven't even known him that long.”
“That doesn't matter, obviously you care about him. D’you know why he’s there?”
“Infection—he’ll be alright—just haven't heard anything in awhile.”
Remus has kept his phone close the past few days, hoping for an update from James or a text from Sirius, but it’s only stayed deadly silent.
“What’s his name?” Lily asks, “Referring him to ‘He’ seems quite ominous.”
Remus goes to answer but promptly bites his lip to stop himself.
“Don’t laugh, okay?”
“Why would I laugh?”
“...Because his name is Sirius Black.”
At that she does chuckle.
“Okay I take it back. That seems ominous. Let's stick with ‘He’.”
“There’s another one, too, James,” he goes on, suddenly excited to tell her all about the adventures he’s had in the past week. By the end his mood is considerably better, not realising how good it would feel to just talk. He loves his mother, but there is no way he tells her about anything he gets up to.
“Remus?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m happy you found people who care.”
“Me too.”
For the first time in a long time, he didn’t lie to her at all. When she leaves, Remus is only left alone for a second before James’ name pops up on the screen of his phone, a small text underneath it.
be ready in 10
“Oh my god! None of you are doctors!”
“Calm down, mate.” James says as Sirius stumbles forward, almost tripping over the legs of the IV pole as he comes bounding towards them to say hello. He looks healthy, the colour has come back in his face, making him seem ever so lively again. You could never tell he was in urgent care mere days ago.
He grabs James first, squeezing him tightly as though he hasn't seen him for years. Before Remus knows it, Sirius is reaching for him. It happens so quickly that it takes Remus a moment to register that the boy has wrapped his arms around him. He stiffens, standing there awkwardly and unsure of what to do. Luckily, it’s over as quickly as it started, and the other two boys settle into their usual banter. Remus is thankful for the mask that covers his face, hiding the vibrant shade of red that has flushed upon his cheeks.
“You two don’t know how bored I've been.” Sirius says, flopping onto the bed, looking at them excitedly.
“And you don’t know how worried we’ve been,” James starts, his voice slightly muffled by the blue mask, “last time I checked they don't confiscate your phone.”
“Worried? About me? It was nothing.”
“Yeah, because the possibility of sepsis is nothing.”
“Sepsis?” Remus emphasises, slightly panicked.
“Relax. Everyone's just throwing a fit ‘cause my neutrophils are low. It’s nothing I haven't been through before.”
James just shakes his head before sitting down in the chair beside the bed. It's a generous room; complete with a desk, TV, pull out couch and private bathroom. Remus thinks he’d prefer this to the flat any day.
“Here.” James hauls the backpack he’s been carrying up onto the bed, pulling out containers of all shapes and sizes. Sirius gawps at the food before him, and Remus shoots him an amused look which he happens to catch.
“What? The food here’s shit, you’d be like this too.”
Remus lets out a laugh, praying he’ll never have to eat the hospital meals, if not even Sirius can stand it, Remus has no hope. James disappears with a container, muttering something about a microwave.
“What have you been up to anyways?” Sirius asks and Remus just shrugs.
“Not much, just staying in the flat.”
“Finally finished Atonement ?”
“I did, actually.”
“Want a recommendation?”
“Sure.”
“The Picture Of Dorian Gray. Read it?”
“Nah.”
“You can get it from the roof, should be somewhere there.”
“Thanks.”
Then the beeping starts. This one sounds different to the pumps in the treatment room, it's faster and more robotic.
“Fucking hell.” Sirius groans. “The stupid thing’s been going off every ten minutes today.” He sits up and gives the pole a wack, when it doesn't stop he presses the assistance button.
“I’ve been here two weeks and they’re driving me crazy, I don’t know how you do it.”
“Well, let’s just say not all the pumps have come out unscathed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He grins. Remus wouldn't put it past Sirius to have personally smashed the machine into pieces.
A nurse comes in shortly to silence the noise, James trailing close behind them with a steaming plate. They all talk enthusiastically while Sirius eats, catching each other up on everything they’ve missed. Remus details how he talked to Lily, and James, for some reason, got all excited when he said he mentioned him to her. Sirius mainly complained about, well, everything. And James tells them about his football match and how they smashed the other team—four to nothing. After a few rounds of poker, where they bet on chocolates from the vending machine, the day quickly began to slip away.
They eventually settle down and decide to watch a movie. The only one on the TV that wasn't made a million years ago was Stand By Me, but even that was pushing it. Remus liked the storyline and Sirius enjoyed the music, so between that and The Wizard Of Oz it was an easy choice. As the starting credits begin, Remus is able to sneak away, offering to go buy drinks.
But when he nears the vending machine, Remus realises the figure of two other boys; one of them with short dark hair, pale skin.
Oh no.
He goes to reel around, but the boy with the oxygen tube is watching him intently. He continues on awkwardly. To be fair, Remus isn’t even sure Regulus remembers him, so he takes his chances and acts as if he’d never seen the two boys before. Remus casually walks up and pays for the drinks—three cans of coke—and goes to leave before someone, very loudly, clears their throat.
“Have anything to say for ourselves.”
Remus turns around, confused, going along with his act.
“An apology perhaps, Lupin?” Something must’ve softened in Remus’ expression, because a slight evil grin creeps onto Regulus’ face.
“Look, I don’t know what you people are like, you know, out there.” He waves a hand for emphasis. “But in the city it's considered quite rude to falsely accuse people of assault.”
“The fucks’ that supposed to mean?” Remus spits back.
“No way, this is the bastard who got you arrested?” Barty exclaims, surprised.
“It means.” Regulus starts, ignoring Barty. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
He shoves a shoulder into Remus as he pushes past him, sending the drinks flying in the air. However, just as he does, Remus sticks a foot out, causing Regulus to trip and fall face first onto the floor.
“Oi!” Barty yells, suddenly grabbing Remus by the shirt and shoving him into the wall.
“Hey!” a voice shouts and a moment later Barty is being ripped off Remus. “Crouch. Black—Piss off will you!”
“Ah, Potter’s here to save the day.” Barty announces from the floor, oxygen tube askew.
“I didn’t know you associated with the uncivilised,” Regulus says, recovered from his fall earlier. “Be careful, he might frame you for his murders.”
“Reg, just leave.” James huffs, tiredly. Clearly this isn’t the first time this has happened.
“Don’t fucking call me that.”
“What’s wrong, Reggie, don’t wanna go home?” At that, Regulus spins and starts hurriedly walking away. “He’s been admitted, you know.” James adds.
Regulus stalls turning around .
“And? what makes you think I care?”
“He’s your brother”
“I don’t have a brother.”
September 17th
They meet Sirius in the afternoons, where they’re able to spend long evenings lounging around together. Remus is early today, having nothing better to do and dying of the flat's boredom, he left at twelve and got to the ward ten minutes later.
“You’re early.” Says Sirius when he walks in, sitting up in bed. An untouched sandwich lays on the table in front of him.
“You should eat that.”
But Sirius only shrugs. “Don’t wanna.”
Remus lets out an annoyed breath and goes to sit by the chair beside the bed, only for it to be taken by the black bag Sirius always carries around.
“Haven't seen this in awhile.” Remus mentions, picking it up and placing it on the floor. “What is it, anyway?”
“24/7 IV Blincyto.” Remus makes a face at the strange words. “My immunotherapy. Bloody annoying to carry round. I was happy they got it off me, until they hooked me up to this.” Sirius gestures to the extensive amount of tubes and lumens, all connecting to the various medicines above him. It's then that Remus realises the lines no longer attach to a temporary cannula on his hand, but disappear under his jumper.
“Hey," Remus asks, "how’d your port incision go?”
“Oh, yeah. Check this out.” Sirius pulls down the neck of his shirt to reveal where the tubing enters his body, in a small hole upon his chest that replaced the PICC line in his arm. Sirius seems oddly proud of it, mentioning that it ‘technically makes him a superhero.’
When it gets quiet Remus reads. Sirius is supposed to be resting, but just as Remus finishes the first chapter of The Picture Of Dorian Gray, an agitated huff comes from beside him. He reluctantly puts down the book.
“What's wrong?”
“Can't sleep.” He sulks, rolling to the side and looking over at Remus expectantly.
“What d’you want me to do about it?”
Sirius chews on his lip in thought for a moment.
“Sing me a song?” He asks hoarsely.
Remus lets out a chuckle. “Fuck off I'm not doing that.”
“Mother used to sing for me before bed, when I was little.”
His hand trails lazily on the side of the bed, and looks up through big tired eyes.
“Oh yeah, I can totally find Effie and drag her away from work because you want a lullaby.”
He shakes his head. “No,” Sirius breathes out. “Not Mum…”
“Oh.” Remus realises. It’s an awkward silence that follows. “What’d she sing?”
“Au clair de la Lune.”
He begins to sing in a whisper, his voice quiet and soft. “Au clair de la Lune. Mon ami Pierrot. Prête-moi ta plume. Pour écrire un mot.”
“French, right?”
He nods.
“I hated it, I think so anyway. But Reggie always loved it—Pierrot—that's what I'd call him.”
Sirius looks around and Remus can tell he’s contemplating if he should continue.
“Go on then, finish it.” Remus encourages.
Sirius continues on in a small sleepy breath, barely coherent above a murmur. “Ma chandelle est morte. Je n'ai plus de feu…”
He stumbles on a couple words and forgets a few, but it's beautiful all the same, even while he fights back sleep, exhaustion and against the medicine forced into his veins.
When he’s done, the room is silent except for the churning of the pump. Remus watches him, tracing his profile and the outline of his body, until eventually, his breath evens out and his face relaxes. Remus stays for a little longer than he should, before he decides to leave the room.
September 18th
That Sunday evening, as Remus enters the furthest room on ward C for the last time, he’s greeted with the Sirius celebratory parading around.
“I’m a free man!” He chants, arms in the air, before spotting Remus. When he does, a huge smile plasters his face. “Remus! I got cleared! Mum gets off in an hour.” But almost instantly he deflates. “Wish I could just leave now.”
Remus could tell he was itching to get out. If Sirius had felt trapped before, he couldn't begin to imagine how he felt now.
“Well, why can’t you.” Remus urges, “I’m sure you can, legally.”
A sly smile hints at Sirius’ mouth.
“I think we’re a bad influence on you Remus, but I do love your ideas.”
“What?” James says from the bed. “Shouldn’t we wait, she's really not that far away.”
“No! Please James. I’ve been in this room for almost a week straight and I can't stand one more second.”
And because no one can really say no to Sirius, James quickly drops his act.
“Fine, I could use some air.” He hints, grinning mischievously.
“Ah, I see Prongs.”
“First one to the roof gets the last pack of M&Ms!” James shouts, jumping up from the bed and bolting out the door. Sirius and Remus follow suit. It wasn't really fair, the only healthy participant getting a head start, but then again, it wasn't really about winning. They made a game out of dodging the people in the corridor as they dashed past, seeing who could get closest and the best reaction. It caused them to fall into hysterical laughter as they did, especially when Sirius ended up almost kissing an elderly nurse on the nose.
They take a quick break on the sky bridge that connects the east and south building, high from adrenaline. It wasn't all that bad, Remus thinks. Sure, it’s been a shitty experience so far—with the treatment and the distance and perpetual boredom—but Remus is here with his friends and the sky is pretty, so he doesn't really mind.
Remus runs his fingers through his hair as he steadies his breath, smiling widely as his eyes shift between his friends and the setting sun over the city.
A mere second later, he stops dead.
His heart begins to pound in his chest, nothing like the occasional nervous flutter, this sends waves of heat throughout his body. His breath is uneven and comes out shakily, harmonising with the thudding.
Remus is completely frozen still, and in this moment time itself stops.
He isn't sure what's real or where he is. He could be in the farm shed, or at Lily’s house. Perhaps he was actually on the train, dozing off on a long journey, or else on the roof of the hospital looking up at the stars. Is he seven again, when he kept wetting the bed after they put his father into the ground? Or maybe he’s eleven, getting punched into a brick wall after staring at a boy for too long. Surely he couldn't be seventeen, he feels ever so small.
It’s all too much. The fuzziness in his head jumbles any coherent thought, leaving him in an absent state. Is this what death feels like? To have your life flash before your eyes? It’s both euphoric and horrific, beautiful and ugly. Remus wants to leave but also stay for an eternity.
He isn't sure how long he lingers in this condition, but he does come back, the world nearing into view. He feels his feet first, solid and stuck to the ground below him, tired from carrying his great weight.
He’s at Hadlington hospital. He really is seventeen. He’s looking down at his own trembling hands—when did they start shaking?—where thin strands of light coloured hair cover his palms.
Oh.
So it is happening.
How naive of him to think he could stay unbroken, that he could really come out of this unscathed. A wound appeared the first time he came through the emergency room doors. Small and insignificant. With each visit, each procedure, each new medication and symptom, it grew. It stretched and warped and dug into flesh and bones. And now it gapes, deep holes in the most important of places.
“Hey.” Sirius' voice is the one to break his trance. “You alright?”
“Hmm—What?—Yeah. It’s just hair.” Remus says, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Hair grows back.”
Hair grows back, but it has to fall out first.
“We could buzz it, if you want, it gets pretty uncomfortable the longer you leave it.”
“...Sure”
Rock a bye baby, on the tree tops,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby,
cradle and all.