First watch
The building groaned like it was alive. Metal screeched. Concrete cracked. Remus sprinted through the dust cloud, radio crackling in his ear, heartbeat louder than the sirens behind him.
"Two trapped on the second floor," Frank’s voice snapped in. “Lupin, Black — you’re up.”
Of course it’s him.
Remus didn’t have time to roll his eyes. He caught Sirius’s silhouette emerging from the smoke, helmet tucked under one arm like he wasn’t running into hell.
“Try not to make this personal,” Remus muttered as they met at the entrance.
Sirius shot him a look — unreadable, sharp. “Just follow my lead.”
He never waited for a reply. He never needed to.
They moved like muscle memory — up the stairs, past collapsed beams, weaving through fire and dust. The kind of coordination that comes from near-misses and bad habits. Not trust. Not yet.
Remus’s flashlight caught movement — a kid, maybe eight, huddled in the corner behind a broken desk. He dropped to his knees.
“Hey, buddy. You hurt?”
The boy shook his head, wide-eyed, silent.
Sirius slid in beside them. “There’s another one across the hall,” he said low, already turning away. “I’ve got him.”
“Sirius, wait—”
But he was gone, just like always.
Remus gritted his teeth and hoisted the kid into his arms. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kid,” he murmured, voice softer. “Hold tight, alright?”
They barely made it back before the ceiling groaned again. Remus shoved the kid out first, dove after him, felt the heat lick at his heels as the second floor collapsed behind them.
Outside, medics rushed in. He handed the kid off, adrenaline still humming through his veins.
Sirius stumbled out of the smoke ten seconds later, hauling a teenager half his size with one arm slung around his shoulders. Covered in ash, cuts on his temple, and still somehow managed to look like he’d just stepped off a magazine cover.
Show-off.
Remus watched as he lowered the kid to the ground, murmured something, and gave the paramedics a quick nod before straightening up. Their eyes met across the chaos. For a second, the noise faded.
“You alright?” Remus called, louder than necessary.
Sirius gave a tight nod. “You?”
Remus didn’t answer. He turned away first.
By the time they were back at the truck, pulling off their gear, the adrenaline was starting to crash.
Frank was already barking into the radio, getting status updates. Sergeant Fortescue was at his side, her jaw tight, her eyes tracking every movement like she was memorizing the entire scene.
Remus leaned against the engine, sweat cooling on his neck, dirt caked under his nails. His heartbeat hadn’t quite slowed.
Sirius flopped down beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. Neither of them said anything for a minute.
Then
“You always run in like that?” Sirius asked, not looking at him.
Remus gave a humorless laugh. “Only when someone’s life depends on it. Or when I’m trying to impress someone. Guess which one this was.”
That earned him a side-eye. The corner of Sirius’s mouth twitched — not quite a smile.
“You’re reckless.”
“You’re a control freak.”
“Only one of us got out with a concussion,” Remus said, tipping his head toward Sirius’s bandaged temple.
“Only one of us got out clean,” Sirius shot back.
Silence again. Thick. Charged. Not hostile, but not easy either.
“You did good in there,” Remus said finally, surprising even himself.
Sirius didn’t answer right away. He just looked down at his hands. “So did you.”
Remus nodded once, then pushed off the truck. “Come on. Let’s get back. I’m starving, and I’m pretty sure James is hoarding protein bars again.”
As they walked, Sirius matched his pace.
Didn’t say a word, but didn’t fall behind either
The air inside Station 81 had the usual mix of sweat, burnt coffee, and cleaning supplies. It smelled like home. Or what Remus liked to think of as home — the kind of home where the floor was always sticky, but the people were solid.
He dropped his gear in the locker room, a familiar routine after a call. His hands were still shaking, though it wasn’t from the adrenaline anymore. More like the damn memories that had been clawing at him ever since he’d talked to sirius he didn’t get why sirius thought he had the right to run off and so his own thing like he was in charge he’d only worked there for a couple weeks
Frank was already at the whiteboard, filling out the post-call paperwork like the seasoned captain he was. Marlene was beside him, tapping away on her phone, probably updating the team’s incident log or texting someone back about their shift schedule. James was sprawled out on the couch, pulling open a protein bar like it was a goddamn snack. He tossed one at Remus when he walked by.
"How’s your head?" James asked, his grin wide and easy. He didn’t miss a beat when he caught Remus's unamused look. "Alright, fine. I’ll be serious. How’s the hip, Lu?"
Remus rolled his eyes, but it was a soft roll. "My hips fine, thanks for asking," he said, pulling the wrapper off the protein bar with unnecessary force. “It’s my patience that’s shot.”
James chuckled, turning the TV on in the corner. "Oh yeah? And who exactly pushed it over the edge this time?"
Sirius. Remus could already feel the name hanging in the air between them, but he wasn’t about to bring it up. Not now. Not when Frank was nearby, his eyes sharp as ever.
"You’d be surprised," Remus said dryly, his fingers still twisting the edge of the wrapper. He avoided looking at Sirius, who was at the sink, scrubbing his gear with way too much focus, probably hoping the water would wash away whatever bullshit had happened earlier.
Marlene raised an eyebrow, noticing the tension. She glanced between Remus and Sirius before turning back to Frank. "Don’t tell me you two are gonna go at it again."
Frank didn’t even look up, just muttered, “It’s not a fight if one person doesn’t care.”
There was a long silence, thick with all the things that no one wanted to say. Finally, Sirius dropped his gloves onto the counter, letting out a breath, his shoulders slumping a little. The tension between him and Remus was as obvious as ever, but this was a firehouse. They could pretend it didn’t exist for now.
Frank didn’t wait for anyone else to speak. “Alright, let’s call it a day before you two start setting the place on fire, yeah?”
Remus shot him a look, but Frank’s grin was enough to make him pause. The captain wasn’t one for subtlety, but he was good at sensing when things were getting too heated. He was good at reading people. Which meant he’d read the situation between Remus and Sirius long before either of them were ready to admit it.
"You good, Black?" Frank asked, his tone softer than usual.
Sirius didn’t look up. “Yeah. Just tired.”
"Right. Well, take a seat then," Frank said, gesturing to the chairs around the small table in the corner. "We’ve got a few things to talk about."
It wasn’t really a question — more like a directive. But it was said with the kind of care that made it clear he was watching out for them, even when they didn’t ask.
Remus took a breath, grabbed his gear bag, and dropped into one of the chairs, his body settling into the worn leather. He didn’t look at Sirius — not yet. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.
James sat next to him, still munching on his protein bar, and Marlene took the seat across from them. Sirius eventually pulled up a chair beside Frank, though he kept his eyes on the table. It was one of those moments where the team didn’t need words to speak — everything was understood.
“We’ve got a few shifts to fill, and we’re due for some training drills next week,” Frank said, his voice steady, but there was something else in his eyes. Remus couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was concern. Maybe it was the weight of what they’d just survived. “Anyone need a break?”
There was a small, quiet pause. Remus couldn’t bring himself to answer, but James did.
“I could use a nap,” he said, stretching dramatically. “Though I’m not sure the couch is gonna be much help.”
Marlene’s lips twitched. “If you fall asleep in my bed again, you’re getting kicked out.”
“See? That’s why I prefer the couch,” James shot back with a grin, a teasing spark in his eyes. “Gotta leave the good stuff for the important people.”
"Good people take shifts, not naps," Frank said, leaning back, his arms crossed. "Now, if you all are done with the jokes, let's go over the roster for the next week."
It felt like the air in the room settled a bit. Things had returned to the usual rhythm of their chaotic, imperfect team. Sirius was still quiet, but no one was pushing him. Remus could feel the weight of his gaze on him, but he refused to meet it.
There was no need to speak. Not yet.
The team was here. They were still standing. And for now, that was enough.