Sirius was dropping the receiver.
He didn’t have time to hang it up, with the way he was running out of the door.
Sirius was running.
His lungs were protesting as his feet attacked the concrete, propelling himself forward into the space where he knew it was safe to apparate without the police being called.
Sirius was spinning.
Spinning and twisting and ignoring the uncomfortable feeling as he apparated, just wanting to get to St Mungo’s.
Sirius was running. Again.
Not as much as before, sprinting through the doors of St Mungo’s and straight over to the front desk.
Sirius was shouting.
The woman at the front desk was hardly moving, unbothered, asking Sirius if he was immediate family, while Remus was in there, in fuck knows what condition.
Sirius was running.
Running.
Running.
One hall.
Then another.
Then another.
Twists and turns.
So many coloured hallways.
Why were there so many?
Remus was hurt.
Sharp right.
He couldn’t breathe.
Swift left.
He couldn’t think.
Sirius was freezing.
Halting on the spot at the sight of him.
Remus.
He was bleeding.
A lot.
Six healers were crowded around him, calling out things that Sirius wished he could understand, so he could find out what happened, how it happened, when it happened, if he was going to be okay.
He was going to be okay.
Right?
He was always okay.
Remus was his rock.
He needed him.
Sirius wasn’t crying.
He wasn’t going to let himself, because Remus was fine. He was going to be absolutely fine.
Until then, Sirius would also be fine.
He could do that.
As long as the fog in his head cleared up.
As long as his lungs remembered how to pull in oxygen, without dragging it in desperately.
As long as he remembered how to stand.
Sirius was sitting.
On the floor.
How did he get on the floor?
The healers’ words all started to blend together, all of them working frantically.
Well, at least they were more alert than that receptionist.
“We’re losing him!”
What?
No.
No, they weren’t.
He was fine.
He was fine.
He was-
Minutes passed.
Or hours.
He wasn’t really sure.
The healers all drew themselves back, the fog clearing for long enough for Sirius to examine their faces.
They were satisfied.
Remus was alive.
Of course he was.
He was Remus.
If his heart stopped beating, Sirius’ would too.
Sirius was being helped up.
Guided.
A healer had taken hold of his arm, speaking to him gently.
She was explaining something.
Sirius was listening.
Well, he was trying to listen, but his eyes were fixed on Remus.
Moony.
He got bits and pieces.
“From what we know, he was attacked…”
Sirius was being sat back down.
In a chair, this time.
That was always good.
He was still staring at Remus.
It looked bad, but it couldn’t be.
It wasn’t.
Of course it wasn’t.
“…a fragile condition, but he’s stable, and…”
Sirius was holding Remus’ hand.
When did he reach out?
That didn’t matter.
Their hands always found each other, even if…
The healer was asking him something.
Water?
No, he didn’t need water.
He didn’t need anything.
He needed Remus.
Did he say no?
She was still staring at him.
He jerked his head quickly, and she seemed to take that as the ‘no’ he had intended it to be.
She left him alone.
James.
Sirius needed to tell James.
Without registering what he was doing, Sirius found himself fumbling for the mirror with his free hand, holding it up to his face.
His hands were shaking.
He was shaking.
Why was he shaking?
Remus was fine.
James answered quickly.
Sirius was talking. Maybe.
His voice didn’t really sound like his.
The same words that had stuck in his mind were resurfacing.
Left.
Attacked.
Fragile.
Stable.
Left.
Attacked.
Fragile.
Stable.
James disappeared from view.
Sirius was dropping the mirror.
It clattered to the ground with a hearty crack.
Shit.
He broke it.
That wasn’t a problem, Remus would fix it.
Remus would…
Sirius was being hugged.
Prongs.
When did Prongs arrive?
How much time had passed?
James arms had wrapped firmly around him from behind, and he was talking, he was saying something…
“He’s going to be okay.”
Someone else had hope.
He didn’t have to be the one carrying it anymore.
His eyes fell back to Remus, and then-
Sirius was crumbling.
James had sent him barrelling back to the front of his mind.
Alert.
Awake.
Sobbing.
Pain broke over him like a volcanic eruption.
Like he should have felt it building under the surface, but instead was thrown entirely off guard, intense, sudden pain flowing through every corner of his mind.
Remus.
Sirius was thinking.
Sirius didn’t want to fucking think.
It was better when he was numb.
He wanted to go back to being numb.
Instead, his mind was spinning; jumping from memory to memory until Sirius felt dizzy as it finally landed on one.
Remus left because they had an argument.
Remus left because of him.
It was all Sirius’ fault.
Remus was fighting for his life because of him.
He had fucking ruined everything.
Sirius was on the floor again.
James went right down with him, only pulling him closer.
He wouldn’t do that if he knew about the fight.
Sirius tried to tell him.
He could barely speak through the anguish, but he still tried.
James was stopping him.
Why was James stopping him?
He was speaking in hushed tones, and…
What did he mean by that?
Of course it was Sirius’ fault.
Sirius was a shitty person who only brought pain into his life, because of course he fucking did.
He just thought Remus was the exception.
Fuck, what if Remus hated him?
What if Remus died hating him?
Sirius wouldn’t survive that.
The light of his life was fading in a hospital bed, and he could do nothing.
Sirius was still crying.
He was still fucking crying.
He was being selfish.
Remus was dying, and Sirius was the one falling apart?
It wasn’t fair.
Nothing about it was fair.
He couldn’t stop crumbling.
His heart was shattering.
Remus had to be okay.
He had to be.
What if he wasn’t?
Sirius was holding on to James.
His adrenaline was fading quickly, and he was so fucking tired.
He wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t.
What if something else happened to Remus while he did?
James seemed to be able to read his mind.
He was telling Sirius to sleep.
To go to his and Lily’s.
He’d take over.
He’d watch Remus.
Sirius wasn’t alone.
He still didn’t want to leave Remus.
James didn’t seem to be offering, though, more ordering.
Sirius was being helped up.
He still wasn’t alert enough to pull out of James’ grip, as James led him somewhere quiet, and apparated away.
Sirius watched silently, the tears still falling smoothly, as James unlocked the door and gently nudged Sirius inside.
“I’ll come get you straight away if anything changes, I promise.”
Promise.
Okay, yeah, a promise.
He trusted James.
Sirius was being passed from person to person.
Lily pulled him in and hugged him, drawing a noise that could only be described as pure anguish deep from his throat.
Fucking hell, that was embarrassing.
“Want a cup of tea, lovely?”
He forced a nod, because it was Lily.
Lily could cure everything.
He hoped.
James had left again.
When did James leave?
He didn’t hear James leave.
He was going to sit with Remus.
Remus, who was hurt, but alive.
Surviving.
Hanging on.
Perfect, stubborn Remus.
Sirius was sat at Lily’s table.
Lily had passed him a cup of tea, his hands shaking so violently that he had to set it down.
The shaking still hadn’t stopped, then.
He’d just been too preoccupied to notice.
Lily was watching him empathetically, carefully, with that reassuring smile she pulled off so well.
She almost convinced him that nothing was wrong.
Almost.
Sleeping wasn’t easy.
He was exhausted, but Remus.
Still, eventually, Sirius slept.
Sirius was running.
Why was he always fucking running?
But he could see Remus, and he was getting closer, closer…
Until Remus fell.
Sirius couldn’t chase him.
He wanted to scream.
Sirius was sobbing.
He was jolting awake, hands pressed against the bedsheets, eyes searching for-
His breath caught in his throat.
Remus wasn’t there.
That definitely didn’t help with the crying.
The door swung open, light flooding into the dark room.
Lily.
“Hey, Sirius, it’s okay.”
No it wasn’t.
Remus.
Remus-
“Remus is going to be okay, you know him.”
There was a hand in his hair.
Sirius considered making a quip about her being a married woman, but it didn’t feel very funny at that moment.
Also, every time he tried to speak, it just dissolved into more sobbing.
Lily stayed until he fell back asleep, his argument with Remus still echoing through his mind.
A familiar crack woke him up the next day.
James was back.
Why wasn’t he with Remus?
Unless he-
Sirius couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, until he knew if Remus was okay.
Sirius was shaking.
Always shaking.
Whole body jittering as his eyes met James’.
That was all he needed to relax.
Remus was alive.
“He made it through the night.”
Sirius could feel something inside him start to knit his heart back together.
He was okay, for now.
And that was enough, because it had to be.
Sirius was back at St Mungo’s.
Sure, he didn’t want to delude himself, but he was pretty sure there was more colour in Remus’ cheeks than there had been, and he was breathing a little stronger.
Just like that, Sirius was too.
A similar routine was kept up for two weeks.
He stayed all day, ignoring the order meetings, and then someone else usually stayed overnight.
Sirius was there when he woke up.
When he actually fucking woke up.
Sirius was crying.
He had gripped Remus’ hand, head dropped as he sobbed tears of pure relief.
Remus squeezed his hand back.
“Hey.”
He couldn’t stop himself from lifting Remus’ hand and kissing his knuckles.
Care was packed into every gesture, every heartbeat trying to say ‘I love you I love you I love you’, every breath painful with the adoration and joy he felt at Remus being awake, alive, and smiling.
Smiling.
Sirius was apologising.
He was stuttering out apologies between tears, wrapping his arms around Remus and not letting go.
Remus was holding him just as tightly, whispering everything Sirius didn’t think he was ever going to hear.
That was when Sirius knew they would be making it through the war.
Of course they would be.
How could they be anything else?