To say Remus was feeling bad was an understatement. It should be a normal day, but instead, he’s sitting on the stairs, with Sirius on his side as he tries to get up. Amazing day to have a fucked up leg, right?
“You think you’re fine now?” Sirius asks, getting up and grabbing Remus’ cane. They should be doing a test now, for fuck’s sake, but no, they had to be waiting for Remus’ leg to decide to wake up for life.
He doesn’t know why his leg is like this, but it happens for a long time. When he was 12, the pain started. It was on both legs, but the problem was in only one of them. He and his parents went to many doctors, but none could say what was wrong and why his leg would be like this. Remus never could explain exactly how the pain was. It didn’t exactly hurt, but he knew it was there. Just a reminder in the back of his head that he was problematic. Broken. Then, it’d explode and his leg would start to shake, and wouldn't stop until he sat and waited for a while.
Now, it has exploded. Happily - or not - Sirius was with him, and now he was waiting until the leg would stop shaking.
McGonagall must be so mad now, thinking they’re skipping the most important test of the year. Of course, Sirius is taking the blame, because he knows Remus hates talking about how his leg fucks him up every week or so.
“Yeah. I can.” He says, getting up and grabbing his cane from Sirius’ hands. Sirius gives him a gentle smile, and Remus is so sure he doesn’t deserve half of what Sirius is.
“Now, wanna skip this class? We can do the test later. Other day. Maybe one day you helped me to study, yeah? I didn’t even touch my book.” Sirius admits, with his hands on Remus’, and the other in his pocket. “Plus, I really do need some rest.”
“We can go to the dorm, I guess. It’s not far from here.” He suggests.
“But the stairs aren’t a problem?” Sirius says, with a concerned face.
“Not when I have the strongest man in the world on my side.” He jokes, and Sirius looks at him incredulous. “I’m joking. My leg is better already, see? No shaking. I’ll survive.”
He can’t say much about his leg, or complain about it, since the cause of it being so bad now it’s because he was a terrible teenager, with terrible thoughts. When he was 13, he’d exercise to force his leg, to make it worse. He’d do everything possible. He’d jump, he’d run, he’d exercise, he’d just smash his leg against things. So, it 's his fault.
He still remembers the day Sirius found out about the exercises.
***
It was last year, and Remus was doing the exercises in the bathroom, with the door open, because everyone was out and he hated closed spaces. Loud music was on, David Bowie, and he was singing to it while forcing his knee more and more.
He thought he heard something open, then close. The next second, Sirius was in front of him, watching him as he forced his knee to the point it almost would break.
“What the fuck, Remus?” He asks.
“I’m sorry?” It’s more of a question than a statement. “Look, I- I can explain, really.”
“Look what you’re doing! There’s no reasonable explanation for this! Stop doing it, fuck, Remus.” Sirius says, exasperated. “Why are you doing this?” And oh, he’s almost crying and it breaks Remus’ heart.
“I’m… I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? How can you just not know! This is- This is…” He stops, looking at Remus. There’s probably something on his face that told Sirius it really is something he doesn’t know. He just does it, and he deserves it. “It’s fine. Promise me to not make it again, though?”
“Yeah. Promise.” Remus says, getting up and pulling Sirius into a hug. “I’m sorry for being like this.”
“Don’t be.”
***
Now, they’re in their dorm, watching something on TV while Sirius texts James, explaining what happened.
It’s good, like, really good.
“Remus?” Sirius asks, turning his head to Remus and turning off his phone.
“Yeah?”
“Did you stop doing the leg thing?” He asks, and it’s sincere. You can hear it in his voice that he means it. That he’s worried. And he shouldn’t be, because even if Remus was still doing it - what he isn’t - he’d deserve it.
“Yeah. I promised, remember? Now I just have bad leg days.”
“Okay.”
They stay like that the whole day, just watching series and eating one thing or another. And it’s perfect. Maybe, just maybe, bad leg days aren’t that bad.