Chapter 3
NOW
Sirius hates himself right now. For a lot of things. He doesn’t think he’s grieving correctly. There isn’t even a right way to do it. But if there were, Sirius would be doing it wrong. That much he knows.
It’s hardly been twenty four hours and most people would say that he’s doing his best. That he can take as long as he needs, that no one would expect him to be doing better than he is, that they wish they could do something to help. He doesn’t want to hear any of that, it doesn’t bring Remus back. Nothing can. Fucking hell, he knows that. So he should maybe try a little harder since no amount of wallowing or crying or staring at the wall will do him any good. But the thing is… he hates himself for it. For how he’s handling it.
Hours ago he looked at Hope, and he hasn’t been able to again since. He saw all of the similarities between her and her son and he can’t see that. It won’t do him any good. Which is why he’s so mad at himself because he knows she just lost her only son and also wants him back. If anyone understands how much he misses Remus right now it’s her, and he can’t even look at her.
It was nearly impossible talking to her because all he could hear was the way she said everything the same way Remus would. He obviously got it from her, but in his mind she got it from him. She’s too similar, too familiar. And still not enough.
The whole situation is awful for her too. They should be comforting each other, not struggling to exist near each other. But she just found out that her son was married and met Sirius and the situation is anything but ideal. It’s horrible.
He hasn’t been crying. At least he doesn’t think he has been. Sirius brings one hand up to his cheek and it is dry. But when he brings his fingers further up to rub his eyes, they’re puffy. That softness that only comes after too many tears are shed.
He’s never understood why that happens. Why after crying, eyes become innocent. Sure they are often red too, but more so they are smooth and almost childlike. Far too gentle for the pain that caused it. Sirius doesn’t look in a mirror to confirm the state he is in, he already knows. He doesn’t want to see it. There’s a chance he wouldn’t recognize the person staring back at him.
Remus wouldn’t.
In the six - almost six - months they had together, Sirius never cried in front of him. There was never a reason to. The most he did was shed a few tears of happiness on their wedding day. Not enough for his eyes to grow puffy or become bloodshot. He had never been happier, and now? What’s there to show for it?
Nothing.
Everything?
This flat, which is covered in boxes. Their marriage, for which they don’t even have the paperwork. His wedding ring, which hasn’t even been resized to fit right yet.
Nothing. That’s the right answer. Nothing shows what they truly had in the short time they did have together. Remus’ own mother didn’t even know they were married. That’s pathetic. They might as well not have had anything. There’s just too much that they never got to do. They were happy, but they didn’t get the chance to bask in it.
And they never will.
So Sirius carries on sitting here not looking at Hope, not looking at the boxes of things that should be unpacked. Not doing anything. He and Remus should be figuring out what they will have for dinner and what they will do with the rest of their night.
Take away. From a new place they haven’t been before even if it ends up being bad. Remus always loved trying new things. Sirius didn’t. He liked the comfort of things he knew, especially with food. But Remus got him to try and that was worth something. If the food ended up bad, they would give up and get a pizza from the place they love. (Loved. Sirius doesn’t think he can go there again, not when it’s where Remus was on his way to last night.) Or if neither of them wanted to get up and go get it, they would settle on eating junk food. Probably crisps or popcorn or whatever is in the cabinet.
Then they would put on a movie or television show. And probably not pay attention to most of it. Or they would pay so much attention and rip apart every detail. Unless it's a reality competition show, then Sirius would go on and on about how he would be so much better at it than everyone who is actually on the show. Remus wouldn’t believe him. Remus would probably be right.
“I’m going to get something to eat, would you like anything dear?” Hope calls to him from the entryway.
He can’t just ignore her, but he doesn’t know how not to. It’s easier to pretend she isn’t here. To pretend this isn’t happening.
“No thank you.” He says just loud enough to be heard.
Sirius isn’t actually sure if he’s had anything to eat since it happened. That’s something to deal with later. He can’t handle anything more right now. Definitely not that. He thinks that she says something else before the door opens and then clicks shut, but he doesn’t pay enough attention to know. And then it is silent. It was quiet all last night and all day, but silence is different. It’s surprisingly welcome. Especially for someone like Sirius who doesn’t like the quiet. Who doesn’t like to be alone with his thoughts. Who needs music playing constantly in order to bear the thoughts that pound in his mind.
He takes this time to get up and walk around to stretch his legs. That’s something he should do. People always say it’s good to do that, so he will. Nothing else makes sense, even this doesn’t, but if he does something that people suggest then he can feel accomplished. If he can’t grieve right, maybe he can trick himself into taking care of himself. Surely that’s how it works.
Walking does feel better. He hadn’t realized how weird he was sitting. Sirius had one knee curled up by his chest, where he rested his head, and the other bent under him. His legs are stiff and it’s uncomfortable walking at first, but slowly it gets better. He can feel his foot again, the one that fell asleep under his weight. It does actually feel good to stretch. He brings his arms up and over his head and his elbow cracks in the process.
He nearly trips over a box on his way to the bathroom, but sees it in time. When they first saw this flat, Sirius loved the bathroom. Weird, but it’s because of the massive mirror and double vanity. Not many places have it, he didn’t in his last place. It would make mornings much easier for them because they could both get ready at the same time. Or more, Sirius could take his time getting ready without being in Remus' way.
Now though, he wishes it wasn’t this way. He doesn’t know how he will live in this place meant for two, meant for both of them, on his own. It’s too big. It’s only a one bedroom, but it’s far too much space. All of the empty space is already taken up by Remus and he can’t fucking stand it.
The mirror catches his reflection in it, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut so that he doesn’t have to see the mess he currently is. He knows that his eyes are puffy and likely bloodshot, but he won’t look. The last time he saw himself in the mirror, Remus was alive. Remus was by his side putting a few things in the cabinet in the bathroom. The last reflection Sirius saw of himself had Remus in it too.
His phone rings, he doesn’t answer. It rings again and again and again. It’s not important. Sirius doesn’t have anyone that he actually wants to talk to. Except Remus. In fact he was almost certain that his phone would have been dead by now. Sirius didn’t charge it last night, for the exact reason of not wanting to be bothered. Well, subconsciously maybe. He didn’t actually think it through, it just happened.
When it keeps ringing, he forfeits and goes to find it. He thought it was still on the couch where he had been, but the ringing is coming from the bedroom. It’s plugged in and laying on the ground next to the bed. There should be a bedside table there, but they hadn’t bought them yet. So his charger sits awkwardly on the floor with his phone attached to it. Hope must have plugged it in for him at some point, and while it was nice of her to do that, he wishes she hadn’t.
The screen finally goes dark, the ringing stops. Sirius picks it up and pulls the charger out. When he taps on the screen it shows 12 missed calls from James. He honestly would have expected more. Sitting down on the edge of the unmade bed, he breathes. Just a few deep breaths in and out. He should definitely pick up the phone and call back, but he doesn’t know what to say.
He was here and must have left around when Hope got here, he thinks. At least he wouldn’t have to tell him what’s happened now. Last night he was in shock and that’s the only reason he thinks the words managed their way out of his mouth.
Sirius doesn’t have to call back, because not even a minute later the phone buzzes again. James again. He picks up this time.
“Sirius! I’ve been calling.”
“Are you there?”
He still doesn't say anything.
“What can I do? What do you need? I’ll come over.”
Sirius sniffles, but still doesn’t respond. Maybe James should come over, but why? What good would it do when Sirius can’t do anything.
“Okay, I’m going to come over. I’ll bring you something to eat, you need to eat. Is his mum still there? I can bring something for her too. Just let me know.”
Jams knows that he is there, by the way he keeps talking he can tell. He just keeps going and Sirius stops fully listening. His best friend could talk for hours to a brick wall and enjoy it just the same as if he were having a full two sided conversation.
The last thing he does register James saying is, “I’ll be there soon. I know it’s hard, you don’t have to talk. Just- just text me if you need anything before I get there. Okay? I love you.”
Sirius hangs up the call.
With his phone now in his hand, he sees all of the missed texts and calls. It’s not that many, but it’s more than usual. Sirius didn’t deliver the news to anyone other than James, so he’s confused. But surely they’ve all found out by now. Someone told them. Good, because he wouldn’t have been able to. Definitely not to tell Lily or Dorcas, Remus’ two best friends.
Over the last few months Sirius has grown to love them too. He just- if he had to be the one to tell them, he would fall apart. Which he is already doing, but it would be so hard. He should call them back or at least text them. They should all lean on each other through this, because they do have each other.
So why does he feel so alone in this?
The front door opens and closes and it could be James or Hope. The door doesn’t lock on its own and he’s certain he hasn’t locked it. That’s how Remus wanted things to be, surprisingly. Despite Sirius being the more outgoing of the two, he was also the one who wanted their flat to be their safe space. Just for the two of them.
Remus thought it would be nice for their friends to be able to drop by and to not have to get up to open the door for them every time. It probably had something to do with his chronic pain and not wanting to irritate his muscles, but Sirius was happy to do that for him. No matter if they just moved in here, they talked so much about it that in the few days they did have since moving in, the practice was already adopted.
It’s not Hope or James, instead it’s Dorcas. “Sirius?”
For some reason his voice just doesn’t come out, he can’t speak. Sirius just stands and hovers in the doorway of the bedroom looking out at her. He can tell that she has been crying, but seems to be putting on a brave face. probably for his sake, though he doesn’t think that is necessary. No one needs to coddle him through this, even if he hasn’t managed to do anything since last night.
“Oh honey, I’m-“ She doesn’t say sorry, but that’s where her words were going.
That remains unsaid. He could be saying the same to her. She’s known Remus much longer. She lost more than him in a way. Sirius hates that it’s true. When you lose someone you love, you somewhat lose all of the parts of you that are covered in them, that belong to them. All of the memories and years and things you shared. So Dorcas lost more than ten years worth of love and memories and… Remus. On the other side of things, Sirius just lost a few months. It’s pathetic.
He loves, loved , Remus more than anything, more than himself. The nearly six months they got were better than any other amount of time in his life, but even still. It was only six months. Not even. It doesn’t compare to the other people who lost him, definitely not Dorcas or Hope or Lily. They lost so much more.
Even knowing all of this, Sirius can’t find it in himself to be the one to comfort them. He can’t do anything.
“Is Hope here?” She comes closer and asks.
This time Sirius forces himself to speak. “Went out for food I think.” His voice is hoarse and pained. “How are you doing?”
It’s a ridiculous question that didn’t need to be asked, but he has nothing else to give.
“Same as you. Come on, let’s sit and rest. We can eat when she gets back and then figure out where to go from here. Okay?” Dorcas is being too nice, she’s taking on all that he can’t.
He feels - he doesn't know how he feels. It’s all just one big blur. Stupidly Sirius decides to try to make sense of what’s going on in his mind and it only makes things worse. He digs through the haze to try to find Remus’ face, a time when he was smiling. He comes up empty. The last few months become just as much of a blur as the present and it fucking hurts. How is he already losing the best moments of his life? It’s been a day without Remus and he can already feel himself losing him.
The next time the door opens, it is James. He comes in and piles onto the couch with them. Dorcas on one side of him, bearing the weight of him on her shoulder. James takes the other side and reaches out to hold onto his hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. He knows all of this by feel. The hand carding through his hair belongs to Dorcas and it does genuinely calm him.
Around him he can faintly hear that the two are talking. Sirius tunes them out as his eyes heavily shut. He doesn’t sleep, but he just fades into the background of life. It feels safer there. Occasionally he hears one of them say his name and it brings him back, but not for long enough to gain the context. They’re likely trying to figure out how to help him, but they have yet to realize that he is helpless. There is no helping him.
His brother’s name is said at some point too, but Regulus won’t be able to fix anything either. He probably wouldn’t even know how to comfort him now. As kids Sirius was always the strong one that protected and comforted Regulus. Not the other way around. He would be lost in this situation, just as everyone else seems to be. James has dealt with all of the emotions that Sirius has ever had, but this is the first time he’s experiencing grief. And he’s lost. Sirius can tell.
It isn’t too long before Hope comes back. She is apparently not surprised to see the other two here, so Dorcas likely let her know. Maybe to be sure she brought enough food. No one gets up immediately, both keep their arms around and holding onto Sirius. If they were to let go he might just fall apart, and they know it. They aren’t going to let him shatter into too many pieces to collect and put back together. Which means they may be sitting here forever or until Remus comes back.
So forever it is, the latter isn’t possible.
“Let’s try to eat something, okay? We can stay here if you want.” James offers.
Sirius nods his head, the first time he is acknowledging that he can hear them. Maybe he could hear them this whole time and he just chose not to process it. The room is too loud now that he started listening again. Everything around him screams Remus and his eyes aren’t even open.
It seems that Hope went out and picked up comfort food. Thinking that would be best. It’s not a bad choice, but Sirius doesn’t think he can stomach anything right now. Chips are usually fine, but while he feels overall uneasy he can’t do it. James luckily pulls one of the bars that Sirius can always have out of his bag and hands it to him.
There isn’t any taste to it which is odd. He knows what it should taste like but right now it’s just nothing. Like chewing on cardboard. Somehow Remus leaving sucked the life out of everything, including food. Including Sirius. The others eat in mostly silence. No one seems to actually be enjoying the food, or maybe that’s just how their faces will all look from now on. Sad, lifeless, forlorn, longing. empty.
“I’ll clean up. Thanks for picking this up, Hope. It’s- it’s good to see you.” Dorcas says, shifting Sirius to be leaning more on James. “Even given the circumstances. I’ve missed you.”
The circumstances. It feels so wrong. She didn’t mean it to come off weird, and evidently Hope doesn’t think it did. Her hand comes out and grabs onto Dorcas’ and she squeezes, thanking her for being here. So it’s just Sirius that feels so off about it. Or Hope is hiding it. Either way it makes him feel alone again, like he’s grieving wrong.
“Hey,” James says softly against his head. “Do you want to get changed into some comfier clothes? Maybe take a shower? It might help.”
All that would do is wash away the last remaining touch of Remus from his skin.
He squeezes his eyes shut, takes a deep breath and knows that it is the right thing to do. “Okay. I’ll uh- I’ll go shower. Can you find my, well, Remus' blue jumper and some pyjama pants for me?”
He’s trying to ask for help. Going forward he’s going to have to, so he can start small with this. These are his people and they are going to be there for him. Sirius has always known that James will drop anything to help him if he asks, but he tries not to ask too often. It’s hard, but he does it. When James agrees happily, he slowly makes his way to the bathroom. No one comments on how slow he moves or the way his feet drag on the floor, and especially not on the fact that he definitely doesn’t smell or look presentable right now. The shower is much needed.
The water dripping down his skin and over his face and soaking his hair feels good. It’s almost too hot to stand under, but not quite. The heat stings Sirius’ skin but he doesn’t mind. He keeps his eyes shut and lets the water surround him and swallow him whole. For a few minutes this is the only place where he exists. His brain goes quiet and his muscles loosen, he hadn’t realized they were tensed.
It takes three minutes of standing under the steady stream to reach for the body wash and another five to wash his hair. Typically he takes just as long, but diligently takes care of his hair. Today he just lets the water do the work. It’ll backfire later, but he showered. Even if his hair looks awful, he can say that he managed to shower.
When he steps out, he turns the shower off and stands in the steam filled room. The mirror is now fogged over almost completely. The only part that isn’t, has the remains of a note left there from days ago. love you, it reads with a badly drawn smiley face. This is what finally brings tears to his eyes. Not just one but hundreds. They spill over before he can even register what's happening.
Before his knees can drop from under him, Sirius sits down on the ground still dripping wet. His towel slumps around him and his wet hair begins to stick to his face. He can’t see anything through his tears and that is perfectly fine by him, there’s nothing here he can stomach looking at. The water from the shower mixes with the tears on his cheeks and all of it trickles down hitting the corner of his mouth. He closes his eyes gently and just lets the tears stream down. There wouldn’t be a way to stop it if he tried, so he may as well succumb to it.
The sound of knuckles tapping on the door brings him back. “Can I come in?” James softly asks.
“Okay.” He responds barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough.
“What happened?” He’s looking down at the mess that Sirius has become with concern flooding his eyes.
This is when Sirius realizes how long it has been. The steam is gone, the mirror is back to normal and his breakdown seems pointless. The remains of a small doodle from the steam of the last shower Remus took caused the pathetic mess he now is, with his best friend having to witness it.
“It’s okay, Sirius. Let me help you.” James lifts him up to stand, slips an arm around him and leads him into the bedroom.
There are clothes, including the specific jumper he asked for, laying on the bed. Like a mother helps a child get dressed, James has him put his arms above his head to help slip it on. Sirius pulls the bottoms on on his own because he isn’t actually helpless. He falls back onto the bed, too weak to stand, and drops his head into his hands. A headache is already beginning to settle in and he knows faintly that it will be here to stay for quite a while. Pounding in his head and ringing in his ears.
“The mirror.”
“What was that?” James was about to walk out of the room but turns back.
Sirius swallows and braces for emotion. “The mirror. He had left a note on the mirror in the steam. It- it was still there.”
“Do you want me to get rid of it?”
Before he can figure out his answer, he’s violently shaking his head. That would erase more of him. It should stay there. Even if one day it goes away on its own, for now it should stay. Sirius won’t think about the day he will look in the fogged up mirror and not see Remus’ messy scrawl and lopsided smiley face. It hurts him to see it, but it would hurt him even more to not see it.
From the living room of the flat he can hear quite a bit of movement. They’re obviously welcome to make themselves at home here, but he is curious what they’re doing. If he gets up and goes out there he’ll have to talk. Or at least see them, see Hope, and he is still struggling with that. It’s too late now to pretend he is not doing this bad, to pretend that he isn’t a complete and utter wreck. And that’s what gets him up and walking on his own. Without being prompted by anyone.
However he isn’t prepared to see more boxes open and spilling over with things. Items belonging to both him and Remus. Boxes that were previously untouched. Sirius assumes this started with James looking for the jumper he wanted, so it makes sense in that way. It’s fine really, though he was no longer planning on moving the boxes. Part of him wanted to leave everything exactly as it was when Remus was still alive.
“What-” He starts only to be cut off.
“Oh, sweetheart, we thought we could help a bit. While we’re here. Make things cozier for you.” Hope smiles at him. It’s not a big smile, but it’s more than he expected.
Sirius doesn’t have the heart to tell her no, she he lets them carry on. Almost every box seems to be open now. Some things, like clothes and books, are being put into separate piles to keep it organized. More organized than things were in the boxes that’s for sure. Dorcas is carefully sorting through things and delicately handling all of it. He watches as certain things of Remus’ make her eyes twinkle, or perhaps they’re just growing glassy with tears. Remus owned a lot of stuff, probably more than Sirius. He was deceptively sentimental. Keeping collections of things he’s had since childhood and adulthood both. Sirius loved that about him.
In one box, Dorcas pulls out a notebook that at first looks like it could be one of Sirius’ sketchbooks. It isn’t though, at closer glance. He walks over to see what it is; he doesn’t remember seeing it ever before. It’s a cloth bound journal, practically bursting open. The pages no longer close perfectly. They seem to be stuffed with things and many have been damaged by water causing it to all be quite crinkly.
“Can I?” He asks, reaching a hand out to take the book from Dorcas.
She hands it over to him and watches while he inspects it. He’s seen plenty of journals that Remus keeps, though never this one. It feels wrong to flip through it, but he can’t stop himself. There’s old receipts in between some pages. A napkin with a doodle, a £5 note, a wrapper from a mars bar. Each is between its own pages and has a date scribbled next to it. All from the last six months.
When he gets to a page with dried flowers pressed between the pages with the date October 17th neatly written out, he knows.