Remus J. Lupin (shapeandshift) wrote in platform_zero, @ 2016-01-19 17:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | remus lupin, sirius black |
Who: Sirius and Remus
When: Tuesday afternoon
Where: Hut #1
What: Reuniting. Again.
Status/Rating: TBA, in progress
Remus's heart was somewhere in the pit of his stomach, sunk low and squirming. Maybe he should have waited and given it more time, but he couldn't. There was nothing that he could concentrate on while knowing that Sirius was back on the island. Not exploding snap with Lily, not sewing, and certainly not reading. Even remembering to eat was something that proved far more difficult than most days and he couldn't blame the wolfsbane for his lack of appetite. All he wanted to do was see Sirius's face, make sure he was okay, ask if there was anything that he could do, and possibly find every excuse not to leave Sirius's side until he was forced away.
His legs felt stiff and heavy with every step he took towards the hut that James and Sirius shared yet again. He realised, when the ramshackle shelter came into view, that he wasn't sure if anyone would be in. He hadn't thought to check until that moment. Sirius could be at work with James or exploring the island. He might be running through the snow as Padfoot, savoring every bit of open space. Maybe he was out there, touching everything to confirm that it was real and not the wisps of a cruel fantasy.
Remus would continue looking if that was the case, but the hut came first on the list of places where he might find Sirius. Wrapping his arms around himself, he shuffled forward before pausing at the entrance. There was a makeshift door to keep the heat in, but there were little cracks between the boards and branches. Through the little openings, and with what little light which filled the hut, he saw a familiar yet unfamiliar silhouette in the back corner of the hut.
"Hello?" Remus called in, voice soft and uncertain. His pounding pulse sounded louder in his ears.
Sirius was sitting on the floor of his and James’s hut — and Regulus and Narcissa. Although the bed wasn’t far away, it wouldn’t do; Sirius needed to see the sky. It was so blue between the puffs of cloud. Such a vivid blue. He hadn’t seen that colour in… He hadn’t seen such a wide swath of nature in… Snow clung to the trees, the air crisp and cold, fresher than what Sirius’s had breathed for the last… he wasn’t sure how long. It was still surreal. Sitting there alone didn’t do anything to dispel that impression, the lingering dread that accompanied him everywhere, that it would all end as abruptly as it had begun: with him waking up in his cell to the screams of his fellow damned souls.
Maybe it would be easier to believe all of this if he acted as though it were — if he went to work at the diner, had dinner at the pub with James and Lily (and maybe Remus, if he would agree to see him), went to see a film, took a walk, spent time with his uncle and Andie… She’d wanted to shave his beard, but he’d refused, saying he’d worked hard on it. The truth was that, like James’s scent, the taste of chocolate and the blue of that patch of sky, his beard was an indication that this… might be real. It hadn’t been shaved since his arrival in Azkaban, and it showed. Sirius hadn’t seen his own reflection until he’d arrived at the hospital, but the moustache and beard he now wore were proof of time gone by.
And the air smelled so crisp.
It had to be real.
But how could it be real?
He’d broken the news to Alphard earlier, that he wouldn’t be starting at the diner just yet. He wasn’t ready. Evidently, news had reached Andromeda, because she’d stopped by to give him a quick checkup, entice him to at least trim his beard (also no) and left another big plate of sandwiches for him and James.
The snow behind the hut was trampled, big sections of it rubbed smooth where Padfoot had rolled around, while others bore the brunt of his gamboling attack on fallen snowflakes jarred loose from their perch on a tall branch.
And then he’d got tired and he’d sat down. He hadn’t moved since.
Sirius was just thinking that he might be due for a nap when someone called out from the other end of the hut. His head spun around, and when he recognized the outline at the door, slowly got to his feet.
“Remus. Come in.” While his beard was long and frizzy, Sirius’s hair was finally at least clean, long curls quite curly now that they touched his shoulders. Lily had gotten him clothing, and though they hung on his unusually thin frame, they were loads better than his Azkaban robes, which Sirius had taken a perverse pleasure in burning. Who knew what the consequences of that would be when he eventually returned. “I have sandwiches, if you want some."
Sandwiches. Sirius was offering him sandwiches. Had someone poured the beach down his throat? Suddenly his mouth felt dry and it was hard to swallow, much less find his voice to reply. There was something between a laugh and a cry bubbling up within him with nowhere to go. It was just like Sirius to be offering him food when he was the one who needed to eat. There were some things that stayed constant. Yet it was the precarious line between how much would be the same, and how much would be different -- or, rather, had to be different that Remus was tiptoeing around. A line that became even more blurry and indistinct when he fumbled the door open, stepped in, and saw Sirius standing there.
There wasn't a word for how he felt looking at Sirius. He had already seen the damage that Azkaban did to a person once. If anyone expected that to make it easier the next time, it wasn't. Even if he was washed and clad in clean clothes, there were a myriad of differences. The sharper cheekbones. The long beard. An absence of light twinkling with merriment in his eyes. He was less than a shadow of his former self. Remus felt all the resolve he had mustered to keep his distance disintegrate in the instant it took to pore over such details.
"Sirius--" was all he managed before the gap between them disappeared and he had the other wizard in his lanky arms for a hug. He ignored the dull pain that shot through his singed fingertips as they curled into Sirius's shirt. The hug was worth it.