Coats All Piled High
Remus was distracted for his entire shift the next day. All he could think about was the look on Sirius’ face as he whispered “we?”. It was barely the end of February and the weather was already warming up. Arctic Monkeys had been playing for the whole shift and in between weird and desperate thoughts of wanting to wrap Sirius up in his arms and make sure he was okay, and simultaneously shout at him for leaving Remus high and dry, Remus found himself missing the cold and lovely north.
He hadn’t loved Scotland the way many of his kinsmen did when he lived there, but now he wasn’t there anymore he missed the frigid air and the accent. He missed drinking irn bru and doing drugs down the back alleys of Aberdeen with the other care kids.
Maybe he just missed being young.
Watching Sirius deal with very Adult problems, and helping with them, had Remus feeling aged beyond his twenty five years. The fact that neither of them had anyone older to defer to, so seek out for help, was a reality that washed over him like a bucket of icy water, and he felt like he was clinging to his youth with rapidly-blunting claws. Without even really thinking about it, he whipped his phone out.
Remus
Desperate for another night out. Thursday???
Dorky
Its like you read my mind
Petty-Pete
I’m down
Mother-Mary
Thekla does indie thursdays. We can pre whilst we close n head straight from work?
Petty-Pete
Sounds ace !
Dorky
Peter I beg are you eighty wdym ‘ace’
Remus
Nother cheeky bag as well?
Mother-Mary
Rem you naughty boy
Mother-Mary
But yes xxxxx until my nose cartilage dissolves xxxx
*
Thursday rolled around and the atmosphere in the pub was what Remus could only describe as jubilant. Dorcas had somehow persuaded her aunt to agree to close two hours earlier than normal, so their shift was short, and after closing they all clustered in a booth and drank as much alcohol as they could physically manage. Remus sank pint after pint, until there were eight empty glasses in front of him and his vision had gone blurry at the edges.
They all had to prop themselves up on the walk to the club, but they made it in with little incident, and just like last time, they all huddled into the disabled loo and took turns with Peter’s house keys and the bag that Dorcas had secured them. The music was incredible, much more Remus’ speed; oasis and blur and AM and the Kaiser chiefs.
He noticed Mary and Peter dancing together a lot more intimately, so he spent most of the evening with Dorcas, which worked out well for him because it was her coke and he ended up with much more than his fair share. Mary and Peter disappeared at some point, likely gone off home together, but Remus and Dorcas stayed until the lights turned on, and when they left and the crowd wasn’t propping him up anymore, he realised just how wankered he was.
Dorcas threw up on the walk home, deciding that chunning in some poor sod’s wheelie bin was better than the pavement, and Remus had to half carry her the rest of the way. He was so dead by the time they made it back to her flat, he just collapsed onto the bed next to her and the two of them were out like a light.
*
Sirius was sitting on his front door step when Remus returned home around noon the next day. The red door was ajar behind him as Remus walked past, unsure whether to stop and say something or not. His head was killing him and he knew the moment he managed to eat breakfast it would come straight back up again, and all he really wanted was to crawl into bed and ignore the world until it was time for his shift to start.
He was also sort of desperate for an update of Sirius’ life. It had been a few days, and he hadn’t heard anything after that tuesday morning, when Harry and Sirius had gone before Remus had even woken up, leaving a note on the kitchen table that stated that Harry was already late for school, and thanking Remus for his help in a way that left Remus feeling desperately unsatisfied.
“Remus!” Sirius called, making Remus’ decision for him. Remus slowed to a stop, standing outside of Sirius’ gate. “Alright?”
“You can’t spare me a fag, can you? I need one.” Sirius asked, grinning self-consciously. Remus nodded and walked up to sit beside him, wriggling one of the boxes of straights Mary had brought him out of his pocket and offering one to Sirius.
“How’s it all going?” Remus asked, passing Sirius his lighter.
“It's going,” Sirius said, before blowing a column of smoke up into the sky. Remus tried to convince himself it wasn’t attractive. “Reg just sort of sleeps. I’ve had to hide all the sharp knives and the pills, and I’ve been searching the room every morning and evening, which drives him mad but what can I do? I don’t trust him not to try again. I’ve got Ron’s mum picking Harry up for school in the mornings and taking him back to hers every evening until seven, when he comes home and sort of goes straight to bed. I miss him like mad. Miss when it was just the two of us.”
Remus made a sympathetic noise and patted Sirius on the shoulder. They sat in silence, smoking until both cigs were gone. “Another?” Remus asked, going to smoke another himself. “Go on then. I liked them better when you rolled them yourself, you know. Your hands looked fucking sexy.” Sirius said, a wry grin on his face.
Remus' heart dropped. “For fucks sake, Sirius.” he growled, standing as his anger came back in full force. “All I’ve done is help you.” he walked down the stairs.
“Remus! Remus, wait- Remus, don’t go!” Sirius called out, but Remus just shook his head, and went home.
*
It wasn’t long before his shift started, just long enough for him to make some pasta, eat half of it, throw it up, get showered and dressed, eat the other half and head to work. They were all on shift looking worse for wear, and Peter had a hickey poking out from the neckline of his t-shirt which Dorcas and Remus teased him about horribly. Dorcas hadn’t even remembered the wheelie bin incident, and Remus took great pleasure in relaying it to her, watching as her face grew more horrified and her blush intensified.
“A fucking wheelie bin… what was I thinking?” she moaned, covering her face with her hands as the others laughed at her. It was another sluggish shift, their hungover bodies unable to move any faster than a snail's pace, and there was a solid half an hour where Remus thought if he even thought about food he’d throw up again, but he bounced back with relative ease.
“Oop,” Mary was staring out of the window, and Remus followed her eyeline to see Sirius outside. “Wanna sit this one out, Rem?” she asked, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. Remus nodded and went through the door that led to the basement, but instead of going down the stairs he lingered, some sadistic part of him wanting to hear what was said.
“That glare is really rather scary, you know.” came Sirius posh drawl. “Yes, yes I know you’ll all protect Remus with your lives and you hate me for it, I get it. I’d do the same. I kind of hate myself too.”
“Your point?” Mary’s blunt reply was scathing and Remus winced.
“Can you please just tell him that I know I’ve put my foot in it, and I’m sorry, and all I’m asking for is a chance to explain, and he can go back to ignoring me after that, lord knows I deserve it. Tell him as well; Harry still won’t shut up about how amazing his monday was, and now he asks to stay at Moony’s every single evening.” Remus didn’t know what to do. He stood behind that door for a long time, even after Mary called that it was safe for him to come out. Dorcas and Peter both thought Remus should hear Sirius out, but Mary told him not to give Sirius the time of day, and as Remus walked home from his shift he wished there was someone from before- someone who had known him longer than four months, to offer him advice he could blindly follow without having to really think about it.
Gran would have known what to do. Gran would have told him to take his head out of his arse and listen to Sirius. Gran would have told him that everyone makes mistakes, and Remus kens that better than most, and that if people hadn’t thought he was worthy of second chances he’d be in a jail cell by now, and he knows she’s right.
*
Sirius doesn’t show up on Remus’ next three shifts, and Remus pretends he’s not waiting for him, constantly making sure he’s on bar, refusing to do any of the jobs in the basement unless it's a keg change, jogging back up the stairs if it is. But for all his vigilance, staring at the door like that's what gets him paid, swivelling his head every time he hears a posh southern drawl, Sirius is nowhere to be seen. He sees Harry one day- bumps into him with Ron and Molly after she’d picked them up from school. He’s already late to work, but waves at them, utterly surprised when Harry detaches himself from Molly and runs at Remus, jumping at the last second as if there was no doubt in his mind that Remus would catch him. Of course Remus catches him. With a soft grunt, Remus has Harry in his arms and the small boy is babbling away excitedly, grinning wildly, his glasses askew. Remus loves him, which is so totally and utterly unexpected that it makes him emotional.
The force of the love he feels for the sweet boy overwhelms him for a moment and he wonders how parents cope with feeling the full force of it every second of every day. He wonders how parents don’t feel it when they see their children- how Sirius’ parents were so soulless as to abandon their children. It’s all a little bit too much for a wednesday afternoon and Remus gently sets Harry on the ground, explains that he’s late for work and promises that they’ll spend another afternoon together soon, before exchanging greetings with Molly and striding off as fast as his long legs can carry him (very speedily) and sentimentally contemplating fatherhood.
*
Sirius is waiting outside of the pub that Friday evening. He’s early, it's nowhere near close, only nine pm, and he doesn’t come in, just leans against the wall, in view of the window. At his feet lay several bulging shopping bags.
“Rem, go. We’ll be fine. If bev comes, we’ll say you're in the basement.” Dorcas says to him, taking the pint glass he was about to put away from his hands.
“Dorcas-”
“She’s right, Rem. It's all four of us on tonight and it's not nearly busy. We’ll be fine without you. And we’ll lie so you still get paid for your hours.” Mary joined in, herding him out from behind the bar, giving his back a gentle shove.
“Good luck!” Peter piped up from the sink and the others all chorused the same sentiment, and Remus found himself pulling the door open, feeling the cold air wash over his face, and utterly terrified for what was to come.