"Sirius?"
The space next to him in the bed was cold. The sheets were rumpled and twisted, like the other man had left in a hurry. Remus stumbled out of bed, rubbing his eyes. Fuck, what has he done this time?
"Sirius?"
The bathroom floor was cold. The needle in his arm was cold. The spoon on the floor was warm, brown at the bottom from countless lighter burns. He could barely Remus calling his name until he knocked on the bathroom door. Fuck, what have I done this time?
"Yeah?"
And his voice was hoarse, like he had been crying. Wait, like he had been crying? He had been fine when they had gone to bed four hours ago. Remus was fully awake now, his voice apprehensive on the other side of the door. The door that had been kicked in multiple times when one of them had gone too far and the other had to gather them up off the floor and piece them back together.
"What's going on?"
Remus just hoped this wasn't what he thought was going on. He had been doing so well, fuck, he was actually sober this time. He was getting somewhere this time. But for Sirius, this all had been a long time coming. He couldn't expect Remus to force him to live every day without something in his veins to dull the pain.
"Nothing, Moons, 'm fine"
And first and foremost that was a total lie. He was lying on the bathroom floor with tear stains down his face, groggy from a mixture of heroin and only just waking up. He just couldn't do it anymore, he couldn't do every day with the flashbacks, the memories, the snippets of his childhood that would replay in his mind every time something even vaguely reminded him of it.
And as soon as he said that, Remus knew what Sirius had done. He had done it so many times before, taken too much and passed out on the bathroom floor. Remus barely even registered it when his knee connected with the door, breaking the lock he had only just screwed back on the week before.
"Fuck, Sirius."
There he was, lying on the floor. Long hair greasy around his shoulders, face pale and pupils pinpoint, showing the brown irises that would've been beautiful if they weren't like this. It felt like someone had just punched the air out of Remus's lungs, and he would never have said it but he felt angry. Angry Sirius had gone back to it after promising he wouldn't, angry he didn't wake him up to talk like he promised he would.
"I had a nightmare- I'm sorry, Moons, I needed it"
"It's fine, Pads, let's just get you back into bed. We can talk about it in the morning"
They never talked about it in the morning. They got out of bed like usual, had showers, drank cups of tea, kissed, went to work. And Remus pretended not to notice when Sirius's pupils were pin-pricked all over again the next night, because what's the point in trying if you know it's all gonna turn out the same at the end?