Dead Beat Drummer
An abandoned nuclear powerplant was not exactly Remus' ideal location for a Monday night. And yet there he stood, clutching Regulus' drumsticks and gazing at a towering concrete building. Layers of scaly brown moss had concealed much of the plant's outer walls, but Remus could still see the bright red warning signs and black and yellow radioactive contamination notices that littered the structure.
Raising his voice a little to be heard in the vast crowd he and the rest of the band were standing in, waiting to be allowed entrance to the party, Remus said, "Are we sure this is safe? I don't really fancy nuclear poisoning."
"Fucking hell, don't be such a wimp Lupin," James replied, sharing a laugh with Sirius. Remus bristled, fighting the urge to bite back an insult. He was really trying his best to listen to Mary's advice- vowing to just play nice, get the show over and done with, and then never speak to Sirius again. All he had to do was get through the night without starting a fight. It was proving difficult- he'd been subjected to nothing but torturous insults and unbearable banter for the whole 3-hour band practice. James had not stopped making stupid jokes, usually at Remus' expense, and Sirius would not drop the whole broken arm/broken amp situation. Marlene, on the whole, had been pretty chill, and Peter had even sat and listened for a bit which was nice.
But no, he would not start a fight with James Potter outside a nuclear power plant.
Sirius quirked an eyebrow, "No comeback, Moony?"
And there went Remus' self-restraint, "Don't you fucking dare, Black." he seethed, rounding on Sirius. Marlene rolled her eyes and lit a cigarette, wandering off somewhere. James' eyes lit up.
"Don't I dare... what?" Sirius acted innocent but he knew exactly what he'd done. Moony. The nickname stung like an open wound. Remus had never heard Sirius weaponize a symbol of their past relationship before, but now that he had, rage set upon him like a wolf. He flexed his fingers at his sides, anger like electricity coursing through each one.
"Keep that name out of your mouth."
"What? Moony?" James began to taunt, grinning.
Sirius ignored him, voice turning soft, "Am I not allowed to use my own nickname for you now? Hate me that much?"
The queue moved up by about twenty people and as they walked forwards, Remus kept his eyes on the purple twilight sky. He didn't like the way all the Sirius-ness had drained away and was momentarily replaced by Padfoot-ness. It was something about the sudden softness and the lack of the magnetic pulse that usually kept negativity and particularity between them. Sirius had done this before: dropped the anger they both used like shields, and attempted to pierce Remus with kindness and old friendship wielded like a sword.
"It's not your nickname. It doesn't belong to you."
James sniggered, and the queue moved forwards again. They were at the front now and a large bouncer gestured for their IDs.
Sirius handed his over first, not looking at the bouncer, but at Remus, "Well I came up with it so--"
"--Shut up Sirius. Just shut u--"
"-- You guys the band?" The bouncer interrupted the argument and Remus felt his shoulders sag in relief, he already felt drained and raw, a shiver running through his body, "You're late. Party's already started."
"Yes, we can tell." James took a deliberate sweeping gaze at the crowds of people around them, then turned to Sirius "Where's Marlene? and Pete?"
Remus had almost forgotten that Peter had left the house about 30 minutes earlier than the band, taking Remus' car so he could transport all of their equipment to the venue. He'd been quite excited about being involved, but Remus had just felt sorry for him and even offered to go with him (Marlene didn't let him because it was clear he needed as much practice on the drums as he could possibly get.) He was suddenly very worried about his car.
"Marlene's probably already inside. And who the fuck cares about Pete?" Sirius replied.
James barked out a laugh but looked a little uncomfortable. He turned to the bouncer, "Where's all our shit?"
"Fifth door on your right, biggest room in the plant."
Remus nodded his thanks as they walked into the old building. It looked even more derelict on the inside- copper pipes running along the walls rusted and dangling dangerously over their heads in places, old beige bricks absolutely caked in dirt, bent nails and other sharp debris covering the floor. There was no way it was safe for hordes of drunk people to be walking through the corridors, but Remus found solace in the fact that he would not be one of those drunk people. He didn't, however, find solace in the fact that he was about to play the drums in front of hundreds of said drunk people. Panic and foreboding settled over him like familiar friends.
----
"Should we do 'Changes' next?" Sirius called over his shoulder, voice almost drowned out by the band's current rendition of 'She sells Sanctuary' by The Cult. (Remus was not handling the drum parts well and had all but given up. James had been doing an annoyingly good job on guitar and vocals.)
"Fucken perfect!" Marlene shouted back (she had indeed, entered the party before the boys), "No drums in the verses! Keyboard's time to shine!"
"Nice!"
Remus at least knew Changes by David Bowie, so he hoped he wouldn't get completely lost. His time on stage behind the drum kit had been pretty nightmarish- at multiple points throughout the night, he'd just hit random drums at random times and hoped it would magically turn out sounding okay. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it really didn't, and Sirius had turned to hiss at him, "You're blowing this for us!" no less than 4 times.
The current song ended with a messy cymbal crash from Remus and the band took a quick 30-second break so James could drink some water and flex his fingers for a bit. As he crushed his empty water bottle against his thigh, Sirius whispered something into his ear, a smirk riding high on his face. Whatever it was that he said, it can't have been anything good for Remus; the second he pulled away, James was grinning and staring straight at Remus with playful malice in his eyes.
"Ok team! We're doing Smells like Teen Spirit!" He announced, not even pausing for breath before he strummed out the opening chords. The crowd cheered louder than they had all evening and Remus' heart sank. The first song he and Sirius had ever shared. It had played on the radio, once, at the very beginning of their friendship. Remus pictured that first sticky June when everything fell into place, when he was jumping around the kitchen with the best friend he'd ever had- drunk on fourteen and a too-popular song. It wasn't like the song was emotional, in fact, it was the very opposite, but it made him think of Sirius and summer. Two things that Remus should never think about in tandem. Three summers after the kitchen dancing and trips to the sea and long days in the woods, Sirius had ruined everything. Sirius had ruined Remus' life.
Marlene's shout of, "Remus! Drums!" woke him up from the memories but couldn't shake the tightness in his chest, the way breath didn't go properly down his throat. His heart was beating too fast and so hard that he could feel it in his head, which felt foggy and unfocused.
"Remus play the fucking drums." James paused his singing to call behind him. Remus tried, but his hands were shaking so much that he couldn't hold the drumsticks properly, let alone hit drums with them. Everything was moving too fast, and yet far too slow. The room was spinning, the flashing lights burned his eyes, the cheers of the crowd warped into mocking laughter and for the life of him, he could not breathe.
It had been so long since this had happened. And for such a stupid reason.
Did Sirius know this would happen?
The drumsticks clattered to the floor and Remus darted from the room, weaving through the pulsating crowd as he attempted to draw haggard breaths into his lungs. He felt close to suffocation, but couldn't focus on five things he could see, four he could touch, three he could hear, two he could smell and one he could taste when he was trying so desperately to escape. The walls were warping, and the floor was turning circles below his feet and each breath felt shallow and completely devoid of oxygen; he didn't know where he was or how far he had gotten from the party and the song and the band and Sirius, but he had no choice but to sink to his knees. Focus on his breathing. Focus on five things. He could see a naked lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, a copper pipe rolling listlessly on the carpet, a crushed cup, and a packet of cigarettes next to it. And he could see Sirius Black.
Fuck. His breathing sped up again, or maybe it had never slowed down and was only getting faster.
"Remus?" Sirius asked, and his voice was one thing Remus could hear (the other two being an ominous dripping noise, and the throbbing bass of party music). "Remus? Shit. Are you okay?"
"What... what.. do you... think." Remus said through desperate attempts to breathe. Blood at the back of his throat was the one thing he could taste.
"Fuck. I took it too far." Sirius muttered, mostly to himself.
"Again." Remus added. He could smell cigarette ash and something metallic, like old coins. Two things.
Sirius was kneeling down beside him, running a hand through his hair and looking very worried. His cheeks were stained red and his forehead glistened with sweat from all the jumping around onstage and maybe from sprinting after Remus. Remus' breaths were beginning to stabilize now that he was away from the swarms of people and the drums and James' pressure and Marlene's indifference and Smells like Teen Spirit. Never had he been more thankful for a quick recovery, it would've been extremely embarrassing if Sirius had been forced to coach Remus down from a panic attack like he used to, it would've served only to exacerbate the anxiety already tunneling under Remus' skin.
"Go away Sirius, I don't want you here." And yet, he desperately didn't want to be alone.
Sirius sighed, shaking his head, "No. What are five things you can see?"
"I'm fin-"
"-Remus. Five things. Now."
"Lightbulb, Copper pipe, crushed cup, pack of cigarettes, Sirius Black."
Sirius smiled, "What an honour to be part of such an exclusive list!"
Remus couldn't find it in him to reply, he just focussed on his breaths, on drawing air into his lungs and settling his frayed nerves. He was still struggling to get back into a breathing rhythm.
"Remus are you alright now?" Remus didn't answer. "Dude. Talk to me... Moony?"
Tears flooded Remus' eyes the second the nickname left Sirius' mouth, its barbs digging deep into his heart.
"Leave me alone."
Sirius' eyes flashed, "Fine, Lupin. But just so you know, I'm sorry about telling James to play the song, it was a stupid idea. And I'm sorry about the 8am band practice this morning. But man, you've gotta learn how to let things go. It's honestly pathetic how you cling onto the past like it's somehow gonna... vindicate your fucking anger towards me or something. It was seven fucking years ago, you can't hold that shit over my head for the rest of our lives."
"Are you sorry about what happened?" asked Remus, staring at Sirius intently, unable to truly comprehend the vindictiveness of Sirius' speech. His mind was lost in the past, as it so often was.
"For what?! I just said I was fucking sorry."
"Seriously?! You're asking me 'for what?'?"
"Are you talking about the summer before sixth form AGAIN?" Sirius laughed, not out of joy but in hysterics, "Give me a fucking break Remus!"
"You ruined my life.."
"Yeah, and you've only told me like twenty million fucking times, so thanks for that." The previous softness Remus had noted in Sirius was lost, he was all hard corners and rough edges now, angry glares and frustrated sighs, hatred, and irritation. This was the Sirius that Remus had grown to know, to come to terms with- not the brief flash of the boy he used to be that Remus had balked at only minutes earlier, not the boy who hugged Remus as he cried.
"But are you sorry? Are you genuinely sorry?!"
"No! No I'm fucking not! It wasn't my fault you fucking idiot!"
"How can you sit there and tell me tha-"
"-Oh shut up Remus. Fucking victim complex or whatever." Sirius turned away in disgust, walking down the corridor, "You're attacking me after I abandoned my gig to make sure you were okay. Arse."
As Remus watched him walk away, he couldn't help but feel sorry, like he had lost something he could never get back. But that wasn't true, he had lost Sirius a very long time ago. It had been years since their conversations had ended with a smile and a promise to see each other soon, and not shouting and tears and memories of the past. Yet, Remus still grieved. Their rivalry was light-hearted at times: missing post, trampled flowers, and eggs on bedroom windows. But it was when their lost relationship reared it's true terrors and led to pain and anger that Remus could truly comprehend how much he had lost.
Remus was so lost in thought, and so focused on recovering his breathing and steadying his pulse, that it took him a second to react when a loud explosion echoed through the empty corridor he was sitting in. The noise was followed by a surge of hot air that seemed to barrel through Remus like a powerful wave. Accompanying the sudden warmth was a strange metallic smell and the sound of feet pounding the steel floors. Sirius was the first person to pass Remus, he couldn't have gotten that far down the corridor before the explosion.
"Shit Remus, I think something exploded down there." He pointed back the way he'd come, face flushed. Remus looked up at him, searchingly, brain still foggy, "We have to GO, mate."
Sirius hauled Remus to his feet just as a swarm of party-goers launched themselves past them. Screams of terror flooded the hallway.
"SOMEONE LIT A CIG IN THE OLD REACTOR ROOM." Someone shouted, seemingly to no one, "WHOLE PLACE IS GONNA BLOW."
It was then that Remus noticed a faint orange glow coming from behind the stream of people, and then the panic set in. A nuclear fire. There was a nuclear fire headed straight for them. He knew this place was dangerous and had never been more sorry to be right.
"FUCK!" He shouted, locking eyes with Sirius.
"LET'S GO REMUS."
---
They didn't know what they'd done wrong, where they'd made the wrong turn.
It was all Remus' fault, he couldn't run as fast as everyone else- his body was exhausted from the brief panic attack, his mind was still dizzy, and his legs were numb from sitting still too long. Sirius, surprisingly, had stayed beside him, even when they lost sight of all the other people who seemed to know their way out of the maze of corridors and were left to fend for themselves.
All the walls and floors looked the same, and though they kept running, they couldn't find the exit. The fire roared closer and closer, barrelling down the corridors behind them, burning up everything, leaving only ashes in its wake. Sirius had ripped off his beloved leather jacket when the heat became too much and turned around just in time to watch it shrivel away to grey dust.
The flames were an impenetrable wall, red, orange, yellow, with an eerie green light flickering in its centre. They couldn't run fast enough, and eventually, Sirius called it.
"Just stop, Remus." He grunted, "We can't... It's.. We can't outrun it."
Two pairs of shoes halted on the shiny metal floor, a pair of old scuffed doc martens and a pair of mismatched converses. They stood side by side as the fire surged towards them, red and burning in its potential for everlasting pain.
“I’m scared,” Remus whispered as the flames flashed ever closer. He turned to look at Sirius, really look, for the first time in a very long time. His hair was plastered to his forehead, heat rashes had burst out across his neck and lower arms, and his eyes were full of unshed tears. In that scared man, Remus saw his childhood friend.
“I know, me too,” Sirius said, voice quivering. His eyes locked with Remus' and a faint smile hovered nervously on his lips. At once, he leaned over and grasped Remus’ hand, face lit by the fire burning so close that Remus could taste ash in the back of his throat. Simultaneously, they squeezed their eyes shut, and waited for the fire to lick their bones clean.
As the fire hit, and the green core swallowed them both whole, it blasted them backward. And despite the force of the flames, their hands did not unclasp.