Numb
Chapter one: Numb
"Sirius Black sentenced to life imprisonment for Thirteen counts of murder"
Remus cried himself to sleep that night. Maybe 'sleep' isn't the right word. He never really slept that night, so you could say that he just cried. He felt so much anger it made him miserable. The problem was; he had no-one to direct his anger at. He knew for a fact that Sirius was innocent. Sirius would never betray his best friend like that. The one who literally saved his life and was practically like a brother to him. Sure, Sirius had made (big) mistakes. But this wasn't him. Remus could feel it.
But then, what happened? Maybe someone framed him, or put him under the influence of the Imperius curse? His family was capable of the most unthinkable thinks, not to mention their 'friends'. Could it be possible that his family finally got to him, that he was forced? Sirius loved his friends. Sirius loved Remus. Maybe someone recognized that weakness. After all, "anything for our moony" right?
Either way, this left Remus all alone. His best friends were dead, betrayed, and his soulmate was locked up in Azkaban for their murder. He should've known he would end up how he started, how he belongs; lonely and heartbroken. Remus knew how little of the love he had received he actually deserved.
After a little while the anger turned in to sadness, and the sadness turned into numbness. Remus grew very fond of the feeling of numbness. He had lost his voice due to all the screaming and he had run out of tears. To be honest, he was way to exhausted to feel. He seemed to prefer not feeling at all.
The next week was the hardest. Remus lived basically next to his body. He slept all day, and stared at the sky all night, desperately trying to find his Sirius. Only, the Sirius in the sky didn't shine the same way his Sirius did. He wanted to get out of bed, but no matter how bad he wanted to, he couldn't get his legs to move. He neglected himself, to make his body feel the same way his mind did.
After 4 days, he decides he has to eat something. Everything in his kitchen reminds him of padfood. The kettle they used to turn on after a long day of studying, the toast Sirius used to cut in four pieces because Remus could never decide on a spread, the countertop next to the window Sirius used to sit on to smoke. Remus collapses against the refrigerator and curls up on the floor. He spends half of the day sobbing on the kitchen floor.
When his tears run out, Remus gathers the strength to brew a cup of coffee. He would really prefer a cup of tea, but on the other hand, he would also really prefer to curl up in Sirius lap and fall asleep listening to their Bowie muggle-records. That isn't happening either.
The next morning Remus has to run to the bathroom to throw up. His head is killing him. When a glass of water doesn't help, he remembers the way Sirius would make him a cuppa whenever he would feel under the weather. Remus takes a deep breath and goes to turn on the kettle.
He sits down on the couch with the steaming mug in hand, he can't help but notice his restlessness, even worse than before. He's shivering, but no amount of blankets can stop it. He feels a strong urge to do something, and even though he is feeling like he can't resist it, he can't put a finger on what it is he wants to do.
Remus isn't new to medical issues, but this particular set of symptoms hasn't occurred before. When he puts them together, they are strangely similar to withdrawal symptoms.
Then it hits him. These are withdrawal symptoms. He is addicted to Sirius Black.
Remus had no clue someone could be addicted to another person, but it's the only explanation he could think of. Sirius being physically as well as mentally as far away as possible sent him spiralling. On top of that, he has no-one to talk to. He has shut himself off from the Order, because he couldn't handle being among the people who believe, or else pretend, they really knew Sirius and he doesn't want to deal with the looks of pity. The fact that they might not believe Sirius' innocence, is something Remus doesn't even want to think about.
Dumbledore tried to reach out to him, but he doesn't want to hear anything from the man who could've done something about this, but chose not to. Somehow this hurts more than it would've if Sirius had died. Sometimes, on the really shitty days, Remus wished he had. That way he would've been the only one to suffer.
Remus can't sit still and it is impossible to fall asleep, so he lets his mind wander to the memories of them. The way Sirius could never sit still for more than 2 minutes, or the way he would make sure that his face was the first thing Remus saw when he would wake up after a full moon. The way he would look at him with puppy-dog eyes whenever he wanted some sweets , or how he would have to take a break to smoke for every fifteen minutes they had studied. The way he smelled like leather, a bit of wet dog and the forest, and the way he could always taste a hint of firewiskey and cigarettes on his lips. Oh, what he would do to taste that again. Would he ever taste that again?
Remus woke up feeling like his head would explode with two nearly empty bottles of firewiskey in his bed. " Well, at least the bed isn't empty anymore, that must count for something." He mumbled to himself. "Stop being pathetic Remus. I've only been gone for a couple of weeks." Remus shot up and his eyes darted to the chair in the corner, and he couldn't believe his eyes. In the chair was a handsome young man, with a griffindor tie and a black leather jacket. He was wearing a rich amount of eyeliner and had put his shiny black curls up in a bun using his wand. "Huh.. Must still be drunk" muttered Remus under his breath while he ignored the younger version of Sirius in his room and walked to the bathroom.