epilogue
Getting through the following months was hard. The first few days were hard and the first few weeks were harder. There were many nights that he would wake up from a dream forgetting that Remus wasn’t right there next to him. It wasn’t until nearly the end of April that he even spent a night on his own. All of his friends continued to stay over or he would go to one of their flats.
Being with someone was easier than not. Except for the mornings when he woke and thought the presence in the bed beside him was Remus, only to find that it was not. It was James, or Lily, or anyone else. Never Remus though.
That first morning waking up alone was surprisingly okay. He just got up and made himself some tea and sat on the sofa looking out the window. In doing so, he found that he missed the other flat that he never truly got to live in because it had nicer windows and a better view. This was still fine, he was able to make it through the morning. By mid day he hadn’t thought twice about being alone and realized that he didn’t mind it. It had been months since he was alone and sometimes it can be good.
After that he didn’t always sleep alone, but he no longer used his friends as a crutch to get through the night. He didn’t need them to be next to him in order to drift off to sleep. That’s the first time he realized he was moving on. Well, maybe moving on is the wrong way to phrase it. Perhaps healing. Though he doesn’t feel any more healed from the loss of Remus, but it’s a step. It’s something.
There were still bad nights and even worse mornings, but he could handle them. He wasn’t going to fall apart just because the other side of the bed was empty. That wasn’t the issue. He often slept in the middle of the bed rather than on the right side, which was always his. This made it feel more full. He became a bridge between his side and Remus’ side. And while that doesn’t make any sense, sleeping in the middle made him feel just a smidge better so he continued to do it on any night that someone wasn’t staying over with him.
In the following months, as spring came into full bloom, he tried to rely on others less and less. He didn’t pull away from them or stop reaching out, but he tried to only ask for help when he really needed it. When he wouldn’t be able to make it through something alone. This meant that when he just had an afternoon where he drank Remus’ favourite tea and ended up with a few of his own tears falling into the mug, that he would let it pass and carry on. However, when he went to get a coffee from a shop and ended up at the one that Remus worked at without thinking about it and began having a panic attack in the parking lot, he would call someone to help him.
Everyone was always happy to be there to support him. Even as time passed he never stopped feeling guilty about that. He did try to be there for his friends too. It couldn’t and shouldn’t always be about him, so he made an effort to let them know they could lean on him too. For a while no one took him up on it. Probably knowing that if they did, he would end up just as upset and it would do more harm than good.
Until one day in late May, Lily called. “Sirius, are you busy?” Her voice was shaky.
“Not at all, need me to come over?” He was never busy, he hadn’t worked in months.
“Please…” So he went immediately.
It felt good to be needed. He hadn’t felt that since Remus died. No one needed him the same way he needed everyone else. It gave him a purpose, even if just for the afternoon. Nothing happened, but Lily needed someone to be with and he was happy to be there. In fact he was having a decent day, one where he could think about his memories of Remus with fondness rather than sadness. That helps him to help Lily. She just needed someone to remind her that despite all the sadness they felt now, the happy moments aren’t gone.
From then, they both leaned on each other. Sirius was no longer treated as something so fragile that he was always in danger of falling apart. That was a huge part in him starting to heal. He proved to everyone else that he would eventually be okay, that he was already on his way. Not only that, but he proved the same thing to himself.
-
One of the hardest things for Sirius to start doing again, aside from learning to breathe without Remus, was painting. He didn’t expect it to be hard for him. Art was always how he dealt with his emotions in the past. It was a way to express himself without words, and words were never his strong suit. So when he didn’t so much as pick up a paint brush or organize his art supplies until summer, it shocked just about everyone.
A corner of his flat housed his easel, which he tried to never look at. The last thing he had painted was hanging in the room, the painting of what would have been their home together. With nothing in progress, he just never felt pulled to his paints. No one pointed it out to him, and he didn’t even realize he had been ignoring it for the first few months.
But one day in the beginning of July, he woke up and walked straight to his pile of blank canvases and pulled one out. He just started painting. Normally he always sketched first and then went over that with paint, except that isn’t what he did this time. He barely even knew what he was painting until it began to take shape on the canvas. As he layered the paints it all became more clear. It was Remus.
His painted face seemed to smile at him and he smiled back. Of course he looked the same as he always did, there is no other image in Sirius’ mind of him. The night before he had dreamt of him, but it wasn’t one of the ones where he thinks he is still alive. It felt like he was talking to Remus in real time, like he knew he was gone, but came back just to talk to him. What they talked about, he didn’t remember, but he woke up motivated and inspired to paint.
That was the fastest he ever started and completed a painting. Probably because he painted from the moment he woke up until the sun had started to dip below the horizon and he hadn’t realized how much time had even passed. His phone remained by his bed and he didn’t check it once. That day he felt good, he felt like he finally knew how to breathe. Maybe that was due to the dream of Remus or because he was able to paint again, but either way he was glad that it happened.
Once it dried and he stepped back to look at it, he knew it was one of his favourite pieces he ever painted. He also knew exactly what he was going to do with it. The next morning he picked up his phone, once it was a reasonable time and called the number that had become his most used number.
“I have something for you,” He said before even uttering a greeting.
“Hi Sirius dear, can’t I get a proper hello?”
He can feel her playful sternness through the phone and smiles. “Hello Hope, how are you? It’s been a few days.”
They talked at least a few times a week. At first they scheduled calls with each other to make sure that they would follow through and to have something set to look forward to. It helped both of them more than they expected it to. Sometimes they talked about Remus but as time went on they talked about whatever was on their minds. Eventually they stopped scheduling every call, though they had a standing time once a week just in case.
“I’m alright, I was thinking about you today. So it’s nice to hear from you.”
“I love talking to you.” He smiled though she couldn’t see. “Right, so I have something for you. Are you going to be at home this weekend?”
There were a few times that he had made the trip to Wales over the months since, but more often than not Hope came here. She liked being able to visit her son, as well as her son in law. It just worked out easier that way and she was always welcome to stay over with Sirius. As time went on, talking to each other and being with each other got easier for them. He had never had a loving mother in his life, so he was hesitant. At the same time she didn’t want to feel like she was replacing one son with another. Eventually they shared these fears with each other which allowed them to become a comfort to the other more than anything.
They each knew things about Remus that the other didn’t. They each longed to have more time and to make more memories with him. And because that wasn’t possible, they had each other to fill the gaps. Sirius had more baby and childhood pictures of Remus than he knew what to do with, but he cherished every last one. Once he began to heal a bit, he shared stories from their wedding and their honeymoon with Hope. Mostly he told her about how bright Remus would smile when they were together. He found that made her happiest to hear.
“I’ll be around, I usually am. Will you tell me what it is you have?” She asked.
“That would ruin the surprise! I’ll be there Friday.”
And that’s what he did. He packed a small bag, though he only intended to stay just one night. Ensuring that the painting would make it on the train without getting any scratches was the difficult part. Somehow he figured it out. The entire ride he sat in a four person seat section, alone with his painting. His leg bounced restlessly the entire time. Part of him worried that she wouldn’t like the painting or that it wouldn’t be a good enough depiction of her son to her, even if he loved it. After all it was the first time he had painted in months, he was definitely rusty.
When he got off the train she was standing there waiting, eyes going wide when she saw him carrying the painting. Even though she couldn’t yet see the subject of it, the gesture seemed to be enough to elicit a reaction. He wasn’t able to run to her, he needed to be careful. It wouldn’t be much of a gift for her if he ruined it before giving it to her.
“A painting?” She asked when he was close enough to hear.
He nodded, a smile blooming across his lips. “I er- I started painting again. Not a lot, and well actually this is the first and only thing I’ve painted and I spent all day yesterday working on it. But I did it! It’s for you, I want you to have it.” He rushed through the explanation.
“Slow down dear. You’re painting again? That’s wonderful. Come on, let’s get back to the house and you can show me it and tell me more.” So that’s what they did.
Hope was patient, more than he would have been, with waiting to see the painting. She barely even cared that it was for her, she was just happy for him. That he found inspiration again, that he got back to doing what he loved. When they walked in the door she put the kettle on to make them some tea and as always told Sirius to make himself at home. It never stopped feeling just a bit weird being there. Not just as a place, but without Remus. He was meant to introduce Sirius to Hope and show him his childhood home and get embarrassed when his mum pulled out baby pictures. Something just felt missing being here without him.
“Do you want to see the painting?” He finally asked after they had long since finished their tea and had been chatting about how everyone else is doing. Hope always liked to be up to date on the gossip, and Sirius is almost certain that she heard the same stories from multiple different people and pretended to be shocked each time.
There had been a lot to tell her about, once he started venturing out of the flat again that is. He had no interest in another relationship, he never would but that was unspoken. If he ever did fall in love with someone else, Hope would of course be supportive, all she wanted for him was happiness, but it would never happen. His heart was buried with Remus and he’s made his peace with that. He wouldn’t want anyone else, he wouldn’t be able to love them as much as someone should. Even though he had no personal relationship updated to tell Hope, they loved to gossip about other people.
That day’s gossip session was more a rant than anything. Because long after his birthday, the truth was finally revealed. That in their game of never have I ever, Regulus drank for having kissed James. And this is what they talked about instead of looking at the painting for over an hour. He had many thoughts on the topic and Hope enabled him. As she always did. He didn’t actually care, but venting about how them keeping it a secret annoyed him even more, was nice. The whole time though, at the back of his mind he wondered if Remus knew or how he would have reacted to that.
She’s been a support for him in so many different ways. Not a crutch exactly, because they both carried on on their own, but in a way that it was a comfort to know the other was always there. If they needed anything, they were only a call away. Hope was more than he could have ever wanted after what happened, she was like a mother to him, a good one, but also a friend. It’s something good that happened to him in all of this.
“I’d love to see the painting.” She smiled at him as he jumped up to grab it.
A bit nervously he rambled. “It’s the first thing I’ve painted in months and I don’t entirely know why or what got me to finally pick up my brushes again, but I did. It basically just showed up on the canvas and was quicker than I even used to paint anything. I hope you like it.” He took a breath and then turned the uncovered canvas around.
Her eyes went wide and her smile faded slightly. At first he wasn’t sure how to interpret her reaction. She didn’t say anything for nearly a minute, or maybe it just felt that long. Sirius expected something immediate, not silence. But slowly her face twisted and she squeezed her eyes together as her hand came up to cover her mouth.
“My baby,” the words escaped her mouth like a breath.
He passed the canvas to her and she held it so delicately. Her eyes scanned it and took in the features of his face, the brush strokes, the highlight in his eye. Every little detail that Sirius loved, she traced with her finger hovering over it. Hope was careful with the painting not wanting to ruin it, but needed to take in every little mark. It was safe to say she loved it. He could tell.
“Do you-”
She didn’t let him finish the question.
“It’s perfect. You did this in one day? This is amazing, that’s my baby boy right there. Oh Sirius, thank you.” She sang his praises over and over again.
He got back to painting more after that. Not everyday, but whenever he felt like it. While he didn’t paint as much or for as many galleries as he used to or even the same subjects as he used to, he actually enjoyed it more.
That was not the last painting he did of Remus, far from it. Even without the muse himself there for him to admire, he had more than enough memories to sort through to paint off of. It really helped him when he had a bad day or a bad night. After sleepless nights where he couldn’t stop thinking about him, he could paint and it soothed the ache in his chest just a little bit. Enough that he could breathe.
One day he would have an entire collection of paintings of a man he only knew for a few short months, but shared a soul with. People would see them hanging in galleries and wonder who he was or why Sirius painted him. Anyone who knew him could truly appreciate it, but for those who didn’t, they were left to wonder and simply admire his beauty. Even if it wasn’t captured in the paintings because nothing could truly do that. Nothing could explain the love Sirius had for Remus, not even him.
-
For the longest time, Sirius couldn’t fathom a life without Remus. Though he didn’t quite have a choice in the matter. He just had to live.
So for a while he would go about his days and stay away from things that were distinctly Remus. Like the coffee shop or fucking Scotland. Though those were easy. He had to try to stay away from the park where they met or walking by what would have been their flat. His body seemed to betray him and sometimes he found himself too close for comfort and then it would lead to him having a bad night.
That would just be how it was for a long while. But then he started to heal.
He’s not sure when, but he eventually started writing in a journal. It was full of letters to Remus. It was essentially just a diary except he addressed all of it to him. It was his way of keeping him updated on life. All of the things he was missing and all that Sirius was doing. At first it felt awful, and he stopped for a bit. It was just too weird to tell him about his day as if they were laying in bed together talking. But then he got used to it. He started to look forward to writing to him.
Maybe it was just that he convinced himself that Remus was standing over his shoulder reading his words. It’s the best he could hope for. Even if that wasn’t the case, writing to him made him feel better. Life without Remus was weird enough as is, but this way he could feel connected to him.
Once that became part of his daily routine, he slowly started to be able to experience other things that screamed Remus. It was all a little bit less daunting. He could think about him without immediately feeling like he was going to cry, he could talk about him more and more each day. Everyone else noticed the shift, but still wouldn’t bring him up unless Sirius did first. He appreciated it, but he also didn’t want to always be handled so delicately. He wanted things to be normal, which was nearly impossible given everything.
But one day, he decided there was one thing left that stood between him and the future. Or well, accepting a future without Remus. He needed to stop avoiding parts of the city that he once cherished.
On a sunny fall day he dropped his current notebook into a bag along with his keys and a sketchbook. He wasn’t quite sure how the day would go, but he wanted to have a few options. He knew he wasn’t far from the park, it’s how he ended up there in the first place all that time ago. For so long he had gotten used to avoiding it, but this time he let his feet carry him there. It was easy, much easier than he thought it would be.
As he walked to the bench, he fidgeted with the ring on his finger. It had started to turn his finger a faint shade of green months ago at that point but he just washed it and let it do it over and over again. They were planning to get new and good quality rings after their honeymoon, they just hadn’t when everything happened. It wouldn’t quite feel right to wear a wedding ring that Remus didn’t help pick out, so he’s kept the ones they found in a pinch before the wedding and every day since. He’ll keep it on everyday going forward too.
The sentimentality meant much more than having a nice ring. He had grown to really love it too, it was the last thing he had that Remus had picked out for him. So the greenish black coloring that permanently stained his finger became just as much of a comfort as the ring itself. He looked down at it and rubbed his thumb against it, spinning it around his ring finger. Sometimes it would itch, but Sirius liked to think that was Remus’ doing. That he was saying hello.
The weather was nice, especially considering autumn was in full swing, which meant that the park was packed with people. Not too many that he would get overwhelmed by crowds, but enough that he had to worry whether their benches would be taken. As good as he was feeling about letting himself go there that day, he knew that would ruin it. And then it would perhaps be months longer before he came back.
Eventually he got deep enough in the park that the bench was in view. No one was there, thankfully. His steps slowed as he approached, almost as if he weren’t entirely sure this is what he wanted to do. But he knew that it was. He kept going, one step at a time until he stood right in front of it.
The same bench where he sat when they first met, where he first started to sketch the man that he would soon fall for. The exact spot where his life changed forever, for the better. it’s like a wave rushed over him as he worked up the courage to sit down. It’s just a bench, but at the same time it is so much more. As he sucked in a deep breath, he sat down and immediately exhaled, feeling ten times lighter. Almost weightless.
In the same way that he could feel Remus with the ring and when he was writing in his journal, he could feel him there. Perhaps even more. Not that he believed in ghosts, though he was undecided on the topic as a whole, he swears he could sense someone sitting down next to him. When he looked up and no one was there, he wanted to believe that it was Remus. Even just the thought made him realize it was the right decision to come back here. This would not be the last time he came back.
He sat there for around an hour or so. At first just breathing for what felt like the first time in months. That was the first time since that breathing hadn’t felt like a chore, it was easy again. He pulled out his notebook and wrote to Remus about his day and the park and how the benches were exactly the same as they had been. About how he wished he was there, though he always wished he was.
Mostly he just wrote about how he was starting to live again. Not asking for permission, but he did want to know if Remus thought that was okay. If he would be happy that Sirius is able to breathe again, that he started painting again, that he was living. Even if he was living without Remus. He finally felt like he was doing more than just surviving and enduring.
By the time he finished what he wanted to write, at least for then, he started to get hungry. Something, similar to the pull he felt to go to the park, he knew exactly where he would walk next. Again, he knew he wasn’t far since this is a place they used to go and probably frequently would have gone if things were different.
He was there in no time, though he didn’t call ahead like they used to. All he wanted to get was a slice of pizza, so it would be fine. The last time they had ordered from there, well that was the night Remus died. They never picked up the order. And Sirius hadn’t gone back after that. Until he walked through the door and the owner behind the counter smiled at him, a hint of something in their eye. Of course they knew what had happened and never got the chance to say anything, but they treated him just as they always would have. Once he had his pizza, he knew what was next.
This was an even shorter walk, though he had to pass the same spot on the curb where he sat and cried. He stepped over the very spot and he kept going. He fished through his bag with his free hand looking for his keys, finding them after only a second.
So after his friends all helped him move back to his old flat, Regulus had offered to give back the new one. Sirius didn’t let him. He continued to pay the rent for both flats just because he couldn’t bear not to. It was fine, really. Though he never knew when he would come back to the new one, if ever.
Until now when he digs the key into the lock and pushes the door open. The flat is a bit dusty, but it looks just like it did the day they first moved into it. Empty and perfect and full of promise.
He took his pizza to the windowsill where Remus used to sit while he would paint and dropped his bag on the floor. He tucked his legs under himself and he leaned back against the window and looked out at the street below. This time there were no lights from an ambulance flooding his view. There was just a perfect sunset over the tree line.
And while he didn’t have Remus there for him to hold, he was holding himself together as best he could. That’s all anyone could ask of him.