"Pete, too?" It came out wrecked and ruined and shocked, like it was just one more slap in the face, and one that Sirius hadn't been expecting at all. Because the concept of being on the outs so severely with Remus was painful, of James and Lily being dead was devastating, but Peter somehow getting into the mix of it too was like--
Overkill. Like a last nail going into a coffin.
Sirius couldn't help himself -- he simply sat down where they were standing because his legs weren't going to hold him up and longer, and put his face in his hands. There didn't seem to be any point to hiding his tears, or the way his shoulders were tense and held closer to his body, but damned if he wasn't doing his very best at trying to push the offending things away before they were simply just replaced by more.
"I wouldn't," he repeated. "They're my family. I love them." And Remus. That used to be just a given. Something he hadn't even needed to say, because the implication had been strong enough. Or so he'd thought. Maybe he'd been wrong.
He couldn't fathom the idea of giving his family up, of letting Voldemort near them, or fighting with Peter after doing something like that, if he had (somehow) been forced into it.