The Winter's In Full Swing
True to her word, Mary invited Remus to a new year’s party. Invited them all, and they all met up at her house beforehand to walk over together. Remus had brought a box of his straights and Mary had grinned at him when she saw them sticking out of his pocket. They started drinking in Mary’s bedroom, which was a riot of fairy lights and political posters and artwork of naked women. It was very Mary; loud, in your face, but also warm and inviting, and Remus stretched out on her bed, his head resting on her thighs as he drank from his asahi. They lounged around for an hour, discussing their respective christmases. Remus glossed over his, trying not to think about the smile on Sirius’ face as he was surrounded by the family he had found in the Weasley’s. Trying not to think about Sirius’ face that very same evening, when he had essentially kicked Remus out after giving him a present that screamed anything but ‘casual’.
The party was good. The house was big and full of people, facing the downs, and Remus was drunk and high and sat on a sofa between Peter and a very pretty girl called Cathy. Florence and the Machine was playing through powerful speakers, and Cathy’s brown eyes were warm like honey and her arm was resting on Remus’ thigh and all Remus could think about was what Sirius’ would look like if he was sat next to Remus at this party, with his hand on Remus’ thigh. Remus wondered what Sirius was doing for new years, if he had someone to kiss at midnight or if he was with Harry, just the two of them. Remus closed his eyes, banishing all thoughts of Sirius from his mind and leaned in closer to Cathy, smelling the spicy citrus of her perfume.
He kissed her at midnight, before watching with delight as Mary and Peter did the same, Mary grinning and Peter blushing like mad. Dorcas was wrapped up in the arms of a tall blonde that Remus had been introduced to but had immediately forgotten the name of. He then spent an hour dancing with his friends before a hand had slid over his hip from behind, and he had turned to find Cathy standing there, biting her lip and looking up at him through her lashes.
*
Cathy lived a ten minute walk from the party, and at past two in the morning in the new year, he found himself being led up to her bedroom. She was sweet and responsive. She made no complaint when Remus made no move to take his shirt off, and afterwards she didn’t make a fuss as Remus stood back up and re-dressed. She didn’t ask for any contact details or make any illusions to them seeing each other again, she had just thanked him with a sweet kiss to the cheek and walked him to her front door, wrapped in a bright pink dressing gown.
When Remus got home it was six in the morning, and he sat on the sofa where he and Sirius had first touched each other, and he stared at the wall as if he could see all the way through and into Sirius’ living room, like that could provide any clarity on whatever it was that was going through Sirius’ head.
*
January was a miserable month. Cold and grey and wet and sleety. Everyone was tired and washed out and Mary and Peter both had uni exams so the bar was often understaffed, with Remus working whole shifts alone and dragging himself home at the end, too tired to even roll himself a cig to smoke. What made it worse was that Remus didn’t see Sirius at all. The whole month dragged by, and there was no glimpse of mischievous smiles or black hair. Wednesdays went from the best to the worst day of the week, and the walk home was a lonely affair that made Remus’ shoulders slump and his eyes stare at the wet pavement.
Mother-Mary
You were moping at Benjy’s party. What happened?
Remus
[message deleted by sender]
That cold and unfeeling emptiness started to creep back in. Remus had barely noticed that he had been feeling better until he started to feel bad again. A lifetime of being poor meant he was reluctant to put the heating on. The nights were cold and lonely, spent shivering under his quilt, arms wrapped around his chest, fingers tracing at the scars on his chest and shoulders as he lay, staring unseeing at the ceiling or the wall. Shivers racked his body and he awoke each morning stiff and aching and filled with a sense of unhappiness so deep and profound it was more a part of him than his skin.
He was drinking more, too, returning from shifts to sink half a six pack of the cheapest lager he could find before falling into bed and passively hoping the next morning would be the one where he just didn’t wake up. As the month progressed, much like coal turns to diamonds under pressure, the pain and sadness Remus felt when he thought about Sirius sharpened into a fervent anger
*
February brought more rain and snow. It dusted Remus’ hair as he walked to work, turning his brown nose pink and turning his cheeks to stone. Bristol looked beautiful in the snow, the posh townhouses standing regal in a sea of virginal white. The world was quiet and serene, the small city cosy. Park street was strung up with lights, even though Remus ventured there rarely, and the pub was playing romantic music at Dorcas’ behest, and everyone around Remus seemed on the other side of an unbridgeable chasm. Or it did, until his first shift with Mary and Peter back from the hell of uni exams.
“Remus! My long lost love!” Mary yelled as she entered the pub to see him behind the bar. She ran and flung herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his middle and giving him a loud smacking kiss on the forehead. Peter was next, wrapping his arms around Remus after Mary had dropped down to her feet. Remus ruffled Pete’s sandy blond hair and decided that maybe he wasn’t so depressed, maybe he was just a little bit depressed and missing his friends. He resolved to put more effort into seeing them outside of work. The shift with the two of them back was the best Remus had felt in a while. Since christmas, if he was being honest with himself.
They all laughed and snuck way too many half pints and spent most of the shift tipsy and giggly. Peter and Mary were flirty and touchy all evening, but it was clear the new year's kiss was where they had left things, and Remus hoped they would sort it out soon. He didn’t fail to notice Mary’s critical eye watching him often, either. He had never properly responded to her text, unsure what to say and unwilling to lie. He should have smelled a rat when she sent him down to ‘check the kegs’ when he knew they were good until at least the end of the shift, and he was genuinely surprised when he found her in the basement with him, arms crossed, standing between him and the stairs back up to civilisation and safety.
“Remus. I don’t know where you came from, right? And I’m not going to ask because I believe you’ll tell me if and when you want to, but I am your friend. I consider you one of my best friends, and I just want you to know I’m here for you, always. Anything you ever want to walk about.” she ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “I know I can tease and poke fun and maybe sometimes I take it too far, but I care about you, alright?”
Remus had nothing to say, but he could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He had never had friends like this. He strode forward and gathered Mary up in his arms and felt all his muscles relax when she gripped back just as hard. He then did something Big and Brave, that he knew his Gran would have been so proud of.
“Would you be free for coffee tomorrow morning? So we can talk?”
Mary beamed up at him. “Of course! I’ll meet you at foliage at 11, okay?”
*
Remus pulled at the frayed sleeves of his jumper as he folded himself into a seat he was way too tall for in the corner of foliage. Mary had texted to say she was running late and he was using the extra minutes to deeply regret his decision to open up to her, and right as he was on the brink of convincing himself to make up a silly story to fob her off with, she burst through the door, clearly still in her pyjamas.
“Shit, Rem, I'm so, so sorry.” she garbled as she slid into the chair, stole his glass of water and drained it, wiping her mouth roughly with the back of her hand. “My alarm didn't go off, and I woke up like twenty minutes ago. Now, dish. What's going on behind that beautiful face of yours.” Blushing at the unexpected compliment, Remus opened his mouth and explained everything. Well- nearly. He explained Sirius. He left out Gran, and the heart to heart he and Sirius had had on Halloween. He included Christmas, and the sex, and the gift, and Sirius’ cold, emotionless face as he politely, yet cruelly, asked Remus to leave. Or it felt cruel, at least. Remus had just carried Sirius’ son home, for god's sake. As loathe as he was to say it, he had felt- for a brief, wonderful afternoon- part of the family, and it had ignited the embers of the fire that had been snuffed out when Gran died, and now those embers were out again, starved of the oxygen Sirius had steadily been feeding them over the course of a few blissful weeks.
“What a twat.” Mary said when Remus was finished, his napkin in shreds as he fiddled with it, unsure of what to do with his hands. “No, honestly Remus. What a dickhead. What the fuck? Talk about mixed fucking signals.” she held her hands out over the table, and it took Remus a moment to realise what she wanted. He lay his palms over hers, marvelling at the size difference. Though they were both mixed race, his skin was a few shades darker than hers, and her small fingers wrapped around his rough ones, squeezing gently.
“Are you wearing it?” she asked, voice soft. Remus shook his head. The bracelet lay in its box still, sat atop his desk, a reminder every time he was in his room. It was so beautiful, and if Remus didn’t know better, if Sirius hadn’t shut himself off like he had, it would have led Remus to believe it wasn’t very casual for Sirius, either. But Sirius was clearly rich, and the bracelet clearly wasn’t a big deal for Sirius the way it was for Remus. When money was no object, jewellery clearly didn’t carry the same intimate connotations, and Remus was a fool for the few brief seconds after opening the gift for believing it meant what he wanted it to. Remus was a damned fool.
“Do you still have it?” Remus nodded, and Mary’s eyes filled with snow-soft sympathy as she looked at him. “Aw, Rem…” she said, voice quiet. Remus bit his lip and looked away. Her sympathy was too much for him. Luckily, Mary seemed to notice. She flashed him a grin and returned to her usual demeanour.
“Well, if I ever see him around I’ll give him a swift kick in the balls for you, yeah?” Remus laughed wetly and squeezed Mary’s hands, nodding. His heart felt fuller than it had in ages. He hadn’t realised what real friends could feel like, and as he stared at Mary across the table he knew he was never letting her go.
*
Remus had stopped keeping track of the days, really. He didn’t need to. He knew he didn’t work Monday nights, and that was it. So he had completely forgotten it was a wednesday when he looked up at the customer who had just approached the bar to see Sirius there. He looked- Remus didn’t know how he looked. Not great. He looked tired, and stressed. His skin, while usually pale, was white with yellow undertones and purple bruise-like bags under his eyes. His hair was greasy, and hung lank around his face. He was dressed impeccably, like always, but this time it looked like the clothes were wearing him, instead of the other way around. Without the arrogant tilt to his jaw, or haughty straight lines of his back and shoulders, he seemed to drown in the ostentatious 70’s outfit.
Remus stared at him for a second. Sirius opened his mouth, and Remus shook his head and turned around. He called to Mary he was going for a smoke, and she looked up, saw him, saw Sirius, and her grin disappeared. She nodded at him seriously, and he felt so eternally grateful that he had met her. He saw Peter approach Sirius cautiously, obviously sensing something was up, and Remus left them too it, leaving and walking round the corner, rolling a fag with trembling fingers. His heart rate had increased exponentially, and he felt a wave of white-hot shame at how affected he was by Sirius’ presence, followed by a wave of white-hot anger at Sirius for showing up at all, after however many weeks of silence it had been. He held the smoke in his lungs until it burned, using it to regulate his breathing. It was why he had started smoking in the first place. He had been stupid young, age thirteen and smoking stolen fags round the back of the comprehensive he hated attending with some of the other care kids who also attended, kids he had grown up with, but would never refer to as friends. He soon discovered when the panic hit, when the memories of abuse at the hands of the system, or thoughts that Gran was going to get sick of him and his perpetual trouble-making and dump him back on the doorstep of the home she had rescued him from, a cigarette helped him keep his breathing even, stopped him feeling like he was going to drown in the nauseating despair that threatened to pull him under.
He had relied on smoking his whole life to keep him even. He had never smoked more than the week after he had found Gran, gone in her sleep. He had just hung out of the kitchen window in the flat and chained smoked, tears streaming down his face. He hadn’t even known about the house then, but had spent the last of his scant savings on as many baccy pouches as he could possibly afford. It had become his lifeline, and his lungs would likely suffer the rest of his life for it. He couldn’t bring himself to care, as he rolled a second, fingers still shaking. He dropped the tobacco and cursed, staring forlornly at where it lay on the floor. So caught up in re-rolling, he didn’t hear Sirius’ approach until he looked up from lighting his cig to see Sirius standing before him. Remus didn’t even wait to hear what he had to say, he just dropped the freshly rolled fag, and walked right back into the pub. He heard Sirius call his name, but he didn’t turn around. Mary and Peter both hugged him when he re-entered, and he could tell from Peter’s face that Mary had filled him in, but he didn’t mind. He let them prop him up for the rest of the shift- doing most of his work for him, covering for him when he ducked out for a smoke every forty minutes, pulling him half pints and letting him drink them in the quiet of the basement.