Pride
I've never felt less cool
We haven't spoke since you went away
Comfortable silence is so overrated
Why won't you ever be the first one to break?
Even my phone misses your calls,
By the way
Moony
When Remus finally saw the familiar red of their front door, he almost felt like dropping to his knees.
All the efforts, the grief, all the full moons spent away from his family, the pain and the injuries of that many months: it all came crashing down on his shoulders at the same time, like a flooding river pushing out of its margins, urging him to just let go and sink to the ground because, fuck, he was home. The mere action of picking up his keys felt so mundane and foreign, as if he had forgotten what they felt like in his hand: feeling their weight, the cool metal and the stupid keychain Sirius made them get together. He wasn’t sure if the prospect of finally sleeping in his bed felt less exciting than seeing his friends again.
When he pushed the door open, something was stuck under it. It felt familiar. Because Sirius was the messiest person he had ever been forced to share a space with. He leaned down to pick it up on instinct, fighting to swallow the groan that was about to escape his lips. At times he felt so accustomed to pain, he was almost able to tune it out and forget about it. He grabbed the disturbance and examined it, confused: it was a stuffed animal, some kind of mouse or a rabbit, that appeared to have seen better days.
Last time he had checked, there wasn’t a baby in their house. The last time he had checked was also more than seven months before.
“Sirius?” He shouted through the empty house, but nobody responded. It was exactly as he had left it but also different. The fireplace had been recently reconnected to the floo network, he could smell it; his jumpers and dirty socks had been removed from the floor and someone must have mopped not that long before; his boots next to the door had been cleaned and placed neatly next to Sirius’ favourite Doctor Martens and the pile of books he was sure he had left on the coffee table were now back to their spot in the bookshelf. But something was off, different. His stupid werewolf nose wouldn’t shut up about it. It was a tingling smell, a little damp but still clean, and it was lingering all over the place: it was clinging to the recently reupholstered sofa, sticking to the hanged coats and was coming off the strongest from the stupid plushie he was still holding in his hand.
It was none of their friends for sure, it didn’t even come close to any of their scent; didn’t seem like any of the other Order members, even though someone new might have joined while he was away. Who did Sirius meet that was hanging around their house so much their smell was all over their furniture? Had Sirius found someone? It wasn’t unlikely after all, it had been so long.
He dropped the sack with his few belongings at the door and walked to the kitchen looking for some tea but was forced to stop on his tracks as he came face to face with a black cat. A real black cat, just politely sitting on top of their table as if it was nobody’s business, carefully licking his paw clean. The cat looked at him, as unimpressed as a cat can be. There wasn’t someone, it was a fucking cat. There was no doubt: the smell was oozing right off him in waves and was beginning to clog his nose up, to the point Moony was starting to snarl in the very far corner he was hiding in.
Just then he heard a thud upstairs, followed by a string of colourful curses. “Sirius!” His shout was followed by a series of loud noises, something clanging and something falling to the floor as Sirius groaned under his breath. Then a door was swung open and hurried stomps made their way to the ground floor.
Remus hadn’t seen nor heard about Sirius in seven months. And he had changed a lot. His hair was longer, touching his shoulders with gentle curls, and it was damp from the shower he must have just taken; he looked paler, but Remus wasn’t sure if he really was, and his eyes seemed a little duller. He was standing still on the last step, looking at him like a deer in highlights. Remus gave him a small smile. “I’m home.” He simply said, and it was apparently enough to break Sirius’ paralysis: he crossed the room in a few long strides and immediately threw his arms around his neck. Remus took a deep breath of Sirius’ unscented bodywash and felt like he had just then realised: the war was over.
“Moony.” He was murmuring in the soft fabric of his jumper, but Remus heard it loud and clear. He hadn’t said much but there was a lot hiding behind that muffled nickname: I missed you, I was worried sick, you bastard. Remus tried to answer them with just the tightness of his embrace, tried to tell him that he missed them too and couldn’t sleep for days because of his worry, and so much more. Sirius pulled away with a sigh. “Have you seen James already? We should all have dinner at the Potters, I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you’re back.”
“Haven’t had time. Just stopped at Hogwarts so Poppy could have a look at… this.” He made a vague gesture at himself. He was a mess, really, even Poppy hadn’t tried to sugar the pill earlier. At least he was home and well. Speaking of which. “Are you aware there’s a cat on our table?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s Archie, our— well, my cat I guess?”
“Archie.”
“He chose his own name, I had no input on that.” Remus eyed the cat that was still staring right at them, still perched on the table. It was antigenic and frankly a terrible idea. Cats hated the wolf, and he had learned it the hard way. He must have made a face without noticing because Sirius sighed. “He just… It’s been nice. He has grown on me. Helped me with all the… stuff.”
“Missed me that much, huh?” Remus smirked and Sirius did the same, until suddenly he didn’t anymore. Sirius was looking at him right in the eyes and something started shifting in his expression: the corners of his mouth slowly dropped as his eyes widened. “What?”
“You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” The other man let out a surprised huff at his confusion and shook his head firmly.
“Of fucking course.” Sirius spat. “They couldn’t risk you being distracted, right? All for their mighty greater good.” He had started pacing, two steps in one direction and two on the opposite, his hands buried in the black strands of his hair.
“What are you talking about?” Remus was growing stressed. What did they keep from him? What had happened in the past seven months that they didn’t deem important enough to tell him but that was so important to Sirius? His chest heaved at the only realisation that was plausible in their situation. “Who?” Sirius stopped dead on his tracks but didn’t look him in the eyes.
“Maybe you should rest up, take a shower. I’m so stupid, I didn’t even check on you. Are you whole? Moody said-”
“Sirius.”
“And I didn’t even put fresh sheets in your bed. Maybe while you take a shower, I’ll think about that. Yeah, we can order from that restaurant down the street that you like-”
“Pads.”
“-James could come over. He should be-”
“Sirius!” He jerked his head up and finally looked at his face again, his eyes glossy. “Who?” The lump in his throat was getting too big to swallow. If Sirius wouldn’t have sat down with him and explained what was bothering him so much, Remus could have imploded just thinking the worst. Sirius sighed and dropped down on the sofa, a silent invitation to do the same. Just as he finally sat down did he finally realise how much his hip was really bothering him. Sirius observed him closely and he knew he wanted to ask where the cane he was supposed to have had ended up. But Sirius knew him better and didn’t. The cat meowed and made its way towards them, squeezing in the small space between them. Sirius scratched his head gently, almost as if squeezing a stress ball.
“Some of them. Frank and Alice.” Remus held his head between his hands. People had died before he had been assigned the mission, but it didn’t make it any easier. He knew Frank and Alice; they just had a baby, right before he left. What happened to him? They were good people fighting for what was right and still they didn’t make it out. Remus was alive and they weren’t: it was a grim thought. He thought Sirius was done, but he opened his mouth again and he had to suppress a whimper. “And… Marlene. Dorcas as well.” The sob that slashed its way through his chest was so violent Remus couldn’t do anything to stop it. Two of his closest friends were gone, people he had spent close to ten years of his life with had been taken away from him, and he hadn’t even said goodbye or attend a funeral. The first good example of love he ever had, had dissipated; people who he had studied with, smoked with, had shared midnight drunken confessions with, weren’t there anymore to enjoy the end of the war. Was it really an happy occurrence, if they lost so many? And they hadn’t even told him. They hadn’t paid him any mind, as long as he did his job and did it well. It wasn’t enough pulling him away from his friends with so little warning; it wasn’t enough keeping him completely isolated from his only family for seven months, with no way to just tell them that he was okay. The constant wondering if they thought he was dead or worse, a traitor. Not knowing if his friends were alright.
It hadn’t been enough and now all he was left with was loose dirt and cold stones to mourn. No funeral, nor final goodbyes. He dried the tears that had started streaming down his cheeks with the back of his hand and looked at Sirius. He was looking down and his knee was bouncing. “Sirius.” His friend’s eyes were rimmed red. “Who else?”
“Reggie.” He sobbed. “They took my baby brother.” It was clear as day that Sirius needed it and it probably had been a long time coming, so Remus didn’t hesitate for a single second to wrap him in a tight embrace. They were crying together, wetting each other’s shirts with tears. Frustrated and sad, they sat in the sofa until it was way past dinner time. Remus had offered to make tea, but Sirius had insisted he shouldn’t stress himself too much. He waited for him on the sofa with the cat, gently caressing the fur on his side. For some reason that particular cat didn’t seem to mind the wolf too much and appeared to like attention, no matter who gave it to him. Or he could feel the heavy mood of the room and was trying to make himself useful in some way. It was a little silly of him to think about it like that.
Suddenly, Remus realised something about the name Sirius had chosen for the cat. He hadn’t said much after putting him up to speed with the losses on their side, but Remus immediately understood that they were all staring in the eyes of a dreadful time.
Because despite it all, Sirius had named his new cat with his little brother’s middle name.
It turned out that getting used to having a cat roaming their house wasn’t all that difficult. Archie seemed to like him, actually, and they had perfected their very own routine that Sirius didn’t hesitate to define as betrayal. Remus would wake up early and Archie would come out of Sirius’ room to follow him to the bathroom where he would lick his paw as he washed his face. The cat would then follow him closely to the kitchen, patiently waiting for Remus to make his tea and Sirius’ coffee because he knew that he would sneak some warm milk for him next to his coconut sweets. Then, the smell of coffee would wake Sirius from his slumber like some sort of hypnosis release.
Concentrating on his new little routine with Archie, also helped him ignore the looks his friends kept giving him. They hadn’t talked about the war, nor about the ones that they had lost, distancing themselves as much as possible. They had only sat down and explained to him what was now cruelly labelled in his head as the “Pettigrew issue”. Remus wouldn’t have ever thought that Peter could ever become and issue, not for them and surely not for their well-being. It turned out that he mustn’t have been all that good at judging character after all. Every time that conversation threatened to peak in the back of his mind, Remus felt like all the work he had done over the years in managing his temper flew out the window. It was like being eleven and angry all over again, fille with so much spite and nerves there wasn’t really space for much else. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he himself had been the scapegoat Pettigrew had chosen to cover his own ass that made him even more furious than the others. The fact that the fragile stability he had carefully built up for himself, had been threatened behind his back made his blood boil: just as things between them were getting back to how they were before.
But not talking about the war didn’t stop James nor Sirius from looking at him wearily every time he struggled to stand, or when he massaged his sides, or when he applied ointment after ointment to all of his new scars or reached for his crutch. Eventually he would have to replace it with something more durable, like a cane, but he wasn’t really bothered, and the crutch made it feel like it was something that would go away. Much like loss, his pain wasn’t likely to subdue.
He knew that Sirius itched to say something: he saw it in the bounce of his leg and in the way he bit his nails to keep quiet. He also knew that he wasn’t taking care of it properly at all. Remus felt some sort of block every time he even thought about his physiotherapy. They had thought that, because most of his magical injuries were tricky and dangerous to heal with magic, incorporating some kind of muggle-inspired therapy could help his joints feel a little less stiff. Of course, Remus hated the idea.
“Do you feel like you deserve to be in pain, mister Lupin?” That was what the mind healer he was provided with had asked.
“I just don’t see a point in it.”
“Why so?”
“It’s not like it can go away, no matter what I do. What’s the point of the stupid exercises?” Remus had grumbled.
“That’s true. But they would help reducing the pain.” Remus had spent most of the remaining time of the session in silence, mumbling responses under his breath and pulling at the hem of his jumper. “Listen, Remus. Maybe your friends could help you. Perhaps they won’t make you feel as uncomfortable as the medi-witches in St. Mungo.”
Remus had considered it for a while. The last thing he wanted was for his friends to look at him as even more of a lost cause than he already was: he was a loner, a mudblood werewolf that didn’t seem up to much besides wallowing in self-pity. And to add the final cherry on top, he walked around like he was eighty years old when he was barely twenty-one. He knew that realistically what he thought of himself had nothing to do with what they thought, but still. He wouldn’t ask them something like that.
Unfortunately for him, not everyone was willing to wait for him to ask. Also, he had forgotten how much attention Sirius really paid. He didn’t even let him take his shoes fully off.
“How was physio today?”
“I didn’t have physio today, just the mind healer.”
“Well, when’s your next appointment? It’s been a while since the last one.” Sirius was clearly trying to seem casual with his questions, flipping through a book draped on the sofa. Remus knew better though: he was suspicious.
“Next week.” And that was a blatant lie. “What’s with the questioning?”
“Questioning? Two questions are hardly a conversation, let alone an interrogation.” Sirius shut his book and set it down on the table. “I’m just making sure you’re alright.”
“Well, I am.” Again, another lie.
“I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I have no clue about the last seven months of your life and what kind of undercover acting made you feel like you’re unreadable; you are not, not for me and not for James either.” Sirius grey eyes were staring him down and making him feel like he was being scolded. He was, actually, and it didn’t feel very good either. “I just want you to talk to me. Or James, if you’d rather. Honestly.”
Remus had to make a choice: keep lying and risk Sirius getting dramatic when he found out or be honest. He could just lay it all out, then and there. The offer was on the table, he just had to take it. But well, that wouldn’t be Remus.
“Like I said, everything-”
“It’s curious you say that. Because me and James coincidentally received pretty much the same letter this morning. From Alastor Moody.” Fuck, that couldn’t have been good. Sirius picked up the small parchment square that was laying on the coffee table, right next to his book. Remus hadn’t even noticed it. He grabbed it and let his eyes skim through the scrappy ink on it.
Mr Black,
I find myself obligated to write you because of recent events that have come to the Order’s attention. Word came to us from St. Mungo that mr. Lupin hasn’t been attending his scheduled meetings with their healers for his physiotherapy. I understand that the times we are living are…
Remus sighed and pressed his fingers on his eyes. There was no reason to keep reading, the point was clear. Remus thought he would have been able to sneak around them for longer, that they would give him the benefit of the doubt. He hadn’t thought that Moody would just straight up tell his friends about it.
“Moony.” Sirius was whispering, as if a noise too loud would scare him away. “Why are you avoiding physiotherapy?”
“I-” Remus huffed and made his way to the couch, dropping down next to him. Sirius hand immediately found his back, stroking back and forth in a comforting way. “It’s just that… it feels useless.”
“Rem…”
“I know, trust me I know. I just can’t help it.” Sirius stayed quiet for a while and Remus couldn’t find it in him to look him in the eyes. The man had lost his brother in the war, and he was alive and complaining about healing his injuries. His movements on his back didn’t even falter: for someone not used to receive comfort, Sirius was awfully good at making him feel better. “I would love to just… wipe the feeling away. But I can’t.” He was spinning around in circles to avoid saying exactly what the mind healer had pointed out. He felt like he deserved it. But they couldn’t know that.
“I think you should do your physio here.”
“What?”
“I think the healer should come here; you should do it at home. I would also suggest for me or James to be there, but we should work on it before.” It wasn’t a bad idea. He would without a doubt feel more comfortable and less like a patient if he had the comfort of his own home. “Maybe Archie could supervise your sessions, making sure you don’t find a way to run off.” Remus smile.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“I suppose we’ll have to relearn how to function together, after all.”
“And how to talk to each other.” Sirius let out a brisk laugh and pushed his shoulder against him. Maybe they would be okay after all. Maybe the war hadn’t ruined everything.