Padfoot
Remus hitches a ride to the bar with James, and Peter joins Sirius on his motorcycle—because of course he has a motorcycle. James is in a celebratory mood, blasting music like usual, and shouting over it to talk to Remus. Remus is in a less celebratory mood, but having James to himself, untainted by Sirius, does wonders for his mood. The gossip helps, too, James filling Remus in on some of the backstory between Regulus and Sirius. Turns out their family is… well, shit, and Sirius ran away from home as a teenager, moving in with James. He wasn’t ever legally adopted by them, but James parents are his own in the ways that matter, and James is his brother in the same ways. Regulus still talks to his family, and is on good terms with them, which is apparently the root of the sour relationship between the brothers. Sirius had asked Regulus to run away with him, and Regulus had refused. James says Sirius is fiercely protective of his little brother, still trying to get him away from their families grasp, but after everything just witnessed, Remus isn’t so sure he believes him.
They make it to the bar before Remus knows it. Sirius and Peter are already there, it seems, Sirius’ motorcycle abandoned in the parking lot, two helmets hanging off the handlebars. Remus and James walk in to find the other two at the same booth from last time. Dorcas is standing just outside their booth, wearing a work apron indicating that she’s on the clock. When she catches sight at Remus, she shoots him a little grin, and then returns to the bar.
Remus and James slide into the booth, their first round of drinks already waiting for them. Remus grabs for his, thankfully, not even minding that Sirius is footing the bill. Sirius is also not drinking, Remus notices, and assumes that he’s assigned himself the job of DD for the night, despite having ridden here on a motorcycle. Perhaps he’ll just leave it here for the night and take them all home in James’ car? Whatever the plan is, he’s got a can of soda in front of him.
Sirius is the first person to speak. “My darling brother gave me an idea.” He says, leaning back with his hands behind his head, a spark in his gray eyes. “We need a name.”
“We?” Remus asks.
“Obviously.” James and Sirius say at the same time. James is the one who continues to say; “You’re one of the group now whether you like it or not, dear Remus.”
“This was a one time thing.”
“Oh come on, I saw you grinning back there. You enjoyed it.” Sirius says. Remus refuses to admit that he’s right, but, well… it had been entertaining, the band sleepily trying to make sense of their instruments. And the confrontation after had been… quite the show. He wouldn’t like to have Regulus’ fury aimed so directly at him, though. Remus just rolls his eyes in response to Sirius, but Sirius seems to take this as a sign that he’s won. “Plus, you came out for drinks with us with nigh a complaint.”
He’s right again, Remus realizes. He’s not sure why he came along so willingly. Not sure why he wants to be in this both. James and Peter, he doesn’t mind, but does their presence make up for that of Sirius?
Apparently, it does, because he has no interest in leaving. All he can do is roll his eyes again.
“So yes, we need a name.” Sirius continues. “And I think Reggie already picked out the perfect one.”
“And what would that be?” Remus asks.
“The…” He pauses, for dramatic effect, Remus imagines. “Marauders.”
“The cartoon villain name?” Remus asks.
“I like it.” James declares.
“Here here” This comes from Peter, who raises his glass in a toast.
It appears Remus is outvoted.
The other three raise their glasses. James shoots Remus a look, raising a brow at him, grinning that shit-eating grin of his. Remus heaves a mighty sigh and raises his own glass. The other three cheer, James clapping him on the back. Remus knows he should turn and run, put as much distance as he can between himself and these three but he finds that he just… doesn’t want to.
Sirius is leaving to grab their second round of drinks—even though James hasn’t even finished his first glass of beer—when James’ phone starts buzzing in his pocket. He silences it without looking at it, but it starts ringing again immediately afterwards, forcing him to direct his attention towards it. He puts his phone up to his ear, greeting whoever is on the other line as he steps away towards the bathroom for a little bit of quiet.
Remus glances towards Peter, raising his eyebrows in question. Peter just shrugs.
James returns a few moments later
“Sorry boys, I’ve gotta dip. My advisor just called and there’s some bullshit issue with my financial aid so I’ve gotta get that figured out before midnight or I might lose my financial aid.” He rolls his eyes. “Don’t know why he waited to call about it until the very last second, but oh well.”
Peter raises from his seat. “I’ll come along. Got an 8am tomorrow so I wasn’t planning on staying too long anyway.”
“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Remus asks, immediately anxious at the thought of James driving home with even an ounce of alcohol in him.
James waves his concerns away. “I had half a glass, I’ll be fine. I’ll drive slow.” He leaves before Remus can say anything more on the matter, throwing a “Tell Pads where I went” Over his shoulder, and then he’s gone.
Sirius is quick to return with their drinks, eying the empty booth. “You scare everyone away?” He asks, setting the drinks down.
“James had some issue with his financial aid and Peter tagged along.”
“Ah, I see. Well, just us, then?”
“I should probably head out actually, it’s a weeknight…” Remus stands, suddenly very eager to not be here anymore. Not if it’s just him and Sirius.
“I’ll give you a ride, then, come on.” Sirius says.
Remus is about to turn him down, but the alternative would be to call an uber, and Remus really doesn’t have a whole lot of money to spare right now, so… he’ll save where he can, even if that means hopping on a motorcycle with Sirius.
He regrets this as soon as he’s on the motorcycle, of course, helmet firmly in place, but he forces himself not to say anything about it. He knows Sirius would never let him live it down, if he were to turn down a ride because he was scared of his motorcycle. But he is, he’s terrified, actually. He hates driving, there’s a reason he doesn’t have a license at twenty-one, and a motorcycle takes all of his fears and cranks them up to eleven.
He forces himself to keep quiet, focusing on his breathing as Sirius peels out of the parking lot, heading back towards campus.
Remus makes it five minutes without looking at the speedometer, knowing that policing it will do nothing to help his anxieties, but he can’t help shooting it a glance. His heart rate increases exponentially when he sees they’re going ten over. It’s not a big deal, ten over, he knows that. It’s later in the evening, there’s not much traffic, Sirius hasn’t been drinking. But he still has to squeeze his eyes shut and focus on every single little breath to prevent himself from spiraling.
Then Sirius takes a sharp turn, and Remus loses what little control he’d had over himself. Just like that, Remus is five years old again. There’s glass everywhere. Everything hurts. There’s something wrong with his leg. He can hear his mother screaming, and the screams sound like his name. Sirius’ laughter brings him back to the present. “Christ, Wolfy, I’m barely above the speed limit, I think you’ll live.” Remus is clinging to his back, face buried in Sirius; jacket. He can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed by that.
“Pull over.” He practically whimpers into Sirius’ back.
“What?” Sirius must not be able to hear him over the wind.
“Pull over!” Remus shouts. Sirius flinches at the volume, but Remus doesn’t feel bad, not when Sirius does exactly as he’d asked. Remus tumbles off the bike, barely getting his helmet off before he vomits into the grass beside the road.
“How many drinks did you even have?” Sirius asks through laughter, still on his bike.
“One.” Remus spits out, and then heaves again.
“Didn’t take you for a light-weight.” Sirius teases.
“I’m not.” Remus manages once he stops heaving. He thinks he’s done vomiting, which is a relief. Now he can properly glare at Sirius, but as soon as he manages to make eye contact, he’s hunched back over, dry-heaving into the grass. The heaving is so forceful that its painful, causing him to groan between bouts.
Then, dry-heaving finished, the shaking starts. The first time this happened to Remus, the first time he’d set foot in a car after the accident, he’d thought he was dying. And despite going through this countless times since then and never once not seeing the other end of it, he’s still convinced that this is it. His breath comes in quick gasps, his whole body trembling. He’s not sure when he hits the ground, but next thing he knows he has his knees pulled up to his chest, struggling to get in a full breath.
“Whoa whoa whoa” Sirius says, panicked voice reaching Remus as though through a dozen layers of cotton. Sirius scrambles off his bike, coming to his knees in front of Remus. “Hey, breath, breath with me come on, in and out, in and out.” Sirius is right in front of him, taking exaggerated breaths, narrating each breath in and out. Remus can’t focus on him, though. His vision is blurry. He thinks he might be crying.
Sirius seems to realize that Remus is in no place to follow instructions, and shifts so he’s seated beside Remus, rubbing his back and whispering quiet words that Remus can’t make out through the fog in his head, but they’re calming all the same, and soon the world starts to come back to Remus. In increments, until Remus is just a mess of aching muscles and shallow breaths. Sirius’ hand is on his back still, and Remus doesn’t ask him to remove it. Doesn’t want it gone, if he’s honest with himself. It’s grounding, that light pressure.
Sirius removes his hand anyway, standing and returning to his bike.
“I can’t—” Remus starts, feeling the panic start to seep back in, all of his muscles tensing.
“Relax, we’re not going anywhere until you’re ready, I’m just getting you some water.” Sirius says, lifting the seat of his bike to reveal the storage compartment within. True to his word, he returns with a plastic water bottle, which he hands off to Remus once he’s seated across from him. Remus’ hands are shaking too much to work the cap, though, so Sirius wordlessly opens it for him.
Remus drains the whole bottle in one go, Sirius watching him drink.
“Sorry.” Remus mumbles once he’s done.
“Nuh-uh, none of that.” Sirius insists, taking back the empty water bottle. He looks thoughtful for a second, and a tad anxious himself. “Did I trigger that?” Sirius asks, looking more abashed then Remus has ever seen him.
Remus shakes his head, then, thinking better of it, he nods. “Kind of. It’s… it’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time, if sharing would help. If not, that’s fine, too. It’s… whatever you need. No pressure.”
Remus is silent for a long while. Sirius says nothing, just looking down at the water bottle in his lap. “I’m sorry.” He says, breaking the long silence. “For… whatever I did that triggered you.”
“It could’ve happened with anyone.” Remus dismisses. It’s the truth.
“I’m still sorry.”
Remus examines Sirius, who still hasn’t met his eyes. For the first time since meeting Sirius, he doesn’t look so sure of himself. It’s simultaneously satisfying and unsettling.
“I think talking might actually help.” Remus says after a moment. Sirius looks up at him then, finally.
And Remus talks about it.
He talks about one of his earliest memories. He talks about his parents, who had been fighting. Them screaming at each other in the car, his father going more then a little bit too fast. Then the screams changed, and Remus was flying. The next thing he knew, there was glass everywhere. Pain everywhere. His leg was… wrong, that’s all Remus could remember thinking. Then he must’ve passed out, because his next memory after that is of a hospital bed. A hospital bed, a broken leg, and bandages all over his face.
Years later and his leg is still not fully right. His whole body covered in scars.
He doesn’t give Sirius all the details. But he does tell him more then he’s every told anyone besides Lily. Sirius listens silently.
And then, an hour or so later, when Remus is able to get back on the bike, Sirius drives far below the speed limit. Every turn is careful, every stop slow. Without asking or being told, he seems to know to drop him off at Lily’s dorm building instead of his own.
The motorcycle doesn’t peel away again until the doors shut behind Remus, leaving him safe and sound in the building.