(no subject)

[onewizardwolfpack]

It said something that Remus noticed the lack of another person beside him when he awoke. What had been the status quo for going on six years had, as of late, changed drastically and, surprisingly, for the better. He stretched a little without moving much, ribs pulling apart with a deep breath in before he sank down again with a sigh. He was still a moment, listening for the sounds of Sirius shuffling about on bare feet, in search of or coming back from smoking a fag. He heard nothing.

Which just meant the bastard had skipped off home. That was all. Remus drew himself out of bed, shrugged into a threadbare collared shirt and lightweight, formless denim trousers, scrubbed a hand through his hair, which was getting rather shaggy, all told, and stood. He'd only three of five buttons done up when he noticed Sirius' clothes, still strewn haphazardly on the floor.

There was no chance he'd left without his pants.

The walk to Sirius' house passed in a brightly sunlit blur, and he didn't bother knocking before going in. Nothing looked particularly out of the ordinary, save that it was empty of his friend. On a strangely desperate hunch he took the stairs three at a time to get to the bedroom, which was also empty. He took a few steps in, feeling a slowly rising tide of panic, which hummed in his ears and brain like white noise. Static.

It wasn't that simple. This was paranoia. This was unfounded panic. Remus left the house at a brusque pace and didn't slow until he'd canvased all of the parts of the island he thought of as counting, including the Winchester. Possibly he had asked, in a halting, distant tone, if Neil had seen Sirius. The answer must have been no, because the next moment he was fully aware of was being back in Sirius's bedroom, looking at the mid-afternoon sky through the open window and knowing, knowing with a sharp, all encompassing, shuddering certainty that Sirius was gone.

Gone.

It was such a hollow sounding word.

He sank down the wall into a crouch, and pressed the knuckles of one hand over his mouth, eyes never leaving the unmade bed. It seemed impossibly empty. It would doubtless smell of stale cigarette smoke, but not only that, and Remus wanted very badly to go crawl into it, breathe it in, but felt as though doing so would, somehow, be a final, decisive act. So he stayed where he was.

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[little_moons]

I realize that I'm watching him walk away, watching him disappear through the doorway, the blood rushing so loudly in my ears that my knees are starting to feel weak. It takes a long, desperate moment to remember what he even asked of me, the wheels in my head turning while I stand there with my hands braced on the bar counter. It hits me at the same moment my eyes focus and I realize I'm staring at a worn patch of lines carved into the bar. Scratchy and a little slanted, the edges worn smooth.

Sirius Black Was Here.

There haven't been many times that I've just left the bar without any word, but the door's clanging behind me before I have time to think about things like responsibilities and manners and shit.

I'm just glad the girls are with Tunny.

I don't make a habit of going to Harry Potter's place, but I know where he lives, and on the ATV, it doesn't take long to get there. I don't say much to him. I don't really have to. I think we both make the decision to go to Sirius' place without actually saying any words to each other. Thank fuck, since we can't fuckin' talk, half the time, without it going sour.

I walk in, unannounced, without waiting for Harry, and find Remus upstairs. If the look on his face at the bar wasn't enough of a confirmation, this right here seals it.

So, I stand there in the middle of the room, hands pushing back through my hair, and I say nothing. What the fuck am I supposed to say?