Reaching for
Sirius is wearing Remus’ jumper and trousers. Remus had to lend them to him since he doesn’t own anything anymore. Not even clothes. Not after Azkaban. He is sitting on the floor his back pressed against the sofa. Remus is right next to him. Both of them are breathing heavily as the silence stretches between them. They’ve been arguing for days since Sirius showed up at Remus’ flat. The arguments were vicious. Anger and pain are powering every word, every raised voice.
When the rage subsides, Sirius is left empty. He is tired of fighting. Fighting to escape Azkaban, to live on a street for almost a year, to look for his former friend. He doesn’t want to fight anymore. He just wants to sleep. He is so tired. Everything in him screams to give up. But one look at his friend, the love of his life, keeps him going. He will fight for Remus. To have him in his life again. It’s worth it. He is worth it.
Remus looks at him and sights. He gets up silently urging Sirius to do the same. He has no idea what is happening. Usually, their fights end up with one of them storming out. But today it was different and Remus waited for him. “I’m tired Sirius. I don’t want to fight, we’ve both given up so much already, been through too much. You just got back after twelve years. And I don’t want to fight. I just want to be with you.”
They both know that this is not how it works. But it’s what they both want and maybe that’s enough. “Me too, Moons.”
Remus gives him a tired smile. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” He stretches his arm out offering his hand to Sirius to take it. It’s the first time Remus suggested they will share a bed. Until now Sirius was sleeping on the sofa alone.
He stares at the hand. Aching to take it but terrified at the same time. No one touched him in thirteen years. Not without the intention of hurting him. Not, accept the embrace with Remus in the shrieking shack a year ago. But that’s tainted by Peter being there. Everything happened so fast that Sirius doesn’t even remember the embrace. Not fully, not how it felt to be held by someone.
Since the Halloween of 1981, every touch was meant to punish him. And Remus is standing here with sincerity in his eyes waiting for Sirius to do the simple thing and take his hand. But what if Sirius is so broken that even this touch will hurt? It would destroy him.
“Pads?” Remus asks confused taking a step closer. Sirius hates he instinctively takes a step back. “What’s wrong?”
Sirius bites his lower lip keeping it from trembling. “You don’t want to sleep in the bed with me? I’m sorry, I just thought… never mind.” Remus says quietly.
“I want to,” Sirius whispers his voice on the verge of breaking.
“So, what is it?”
Sirius wraps his arms around himself, one hooking over his elbow and the other on his side. Holding himself together. Protecting the only thing he has left, his body. Destroyed and broken, but still his. He is swiping his thumb over his skin in an attempt to soothe himself. It never really worked, but it was his only option. Remus is observing him. “Sirius?”
“No one touched me in thirteen years without hurting me,” Sirius admits embarrassed. He thinks how pathetic it sounds.
“I won’t hurt you,” Remus says, and Sirius can hear the hurt in his voice. He tries to smile at Sirius, but even Remus can’t hide the sadness. He holds out his hand once again and waits. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”
It takes Sirius a long time to get his breathing under control. As he takes a step closer, his whole body is screaming at him. When he reaches for Remus, all he can hear in his mind is run. He pushes through. His fingers are hovering only inches above the palm of Remus’ hand. He can feel the heat coming from the other man. He holds his breath and lets his hand fall onto Remus’ who immediately closes his fingers around it.
Sirius was right. It hurts. It hurts so much he thinks he will die. His breath is caught in his throat turning into hot steam. It’s different from the pain he is used to. That one came from outside. This one is tearing him from the inside. It’s his broken soul crying. He forgot. He forgot how gentle touch feels.
His legs stopped working, and he is falling, his vision blurry. He feels a strong arm catch him right before he hits the floor. He knows it’s Remus. He flinches anyway.
“Sirius, Pads. I got you, okay? I won’t hurt you.” Remus keeps chanting. He holds Sirius close. His body is shaking. Every time Remus touches a new part of his body, he flinches. Remus tries to put some distance between them in worry he is making it worse for Sirius this way.
Sirius clings to him. “No, please don’t leave.”
“I won’t,” Remus reassures him, holding him close. Holding him together. For the first time in thirteen years, Sirius breaks down, and there is someone else to help put back the pieces.