Chapter Text
The rain picked up again, and the cold seeped into Remus’ bones a lot more than he wanted; his hip had definitely seized up, and his knee was no better as Sirius sped through the vast expanse of Forest, nearly stumbling once he hit the tarmac. Remus winced his grip around Sirius’ neck, tightening in a flinch. “Shit, sorry”, he mumbled, his voice a little croaky from not talking and desperately needing a drink.
“It’s fine,” Sirius said in a flat voice. Remus didn’t like this at all. He squirmed around, making sure he could balance himself once he was standing.
“I can walk from here,” he said with a hint of frustration. Sirius stopped letting Remus stand; he brushed himself off, wrapping the oversized hunting jacket around him like a hug. Something Remus didn’t know he needed, but he wanted his dad, and he wanted him just to protect him for a change. But it would not happen; Lyall made it clear he was going on a fishing trip with some loggers over in Maine for the week. It had been booked for months. As much as Lyall wanted to solve his case, he couldn't, and Remus didn’t expect to miss him as much as he was right now.
“You okay, Remus?” Sirius reached out, placing his cold hand on Remus’ shoulder, but he shrugged it off.
“I’m fine; I just needed to stretch my legs. The cold is…” he trailed off, limping up the road. Sirius held back guilt flooding his body; he shouldn’t have asked him to come today. Fuck he was so fucking stupid.
“I hope you are following because I have no idea where I'm going, Siri.” Remus tried to lighten the mood, trying to tell Sirius he wasn’t angry at him; he hoped it would distract them from everything that had just happened, but how could it? He met death. He saw the guy that was in his dreams as a real person, and he was like Sirius. Remus wasn't sure, but he had to have a scrape of hope that Sirius wouldn’t be the reason he died, right? Hope would not cut it anymore. He needed a distraction, and it wasn’t working.
Sirius didn’t linger, pushing through his guilt. He couldn’t shut down now. He can't go inside himself and just shut the world out again until everything that was making him feel this way disappears, so he catches Remus up, but he has that horrible, hurt puppy look in his now black eyes. Remus swallowed hard, realising Sirius would need to eat something.
“How long can you go without eating?” It was a simple question of small talk. Remus hoped it wasn't pushing an unspoken boundary. Sirius furrowed his brow, looking back into Remus’ amber eyes, which somehow looked like they were glowing.
“I’m fine; I can survive, trust me” Sirius gave him a toothy smile, not aware of his fangs or the slight flinch Remus did.
“If you sure?” Remus finally let his arms fall, unbinding the makeshift hug he was out of fags, so there was no point fumbling around his pockets. Instead, he let his scarred hands brush against the dainty marbled skin of his killer, slowly entwining them.
“I really am sorry for stabbing you.”
“I know; it's not the first time you attacked me.”
Remus paused, letting Sirius carry on, pulling his arm. “What do you mean I’ve–”
Sirius mentally slapped himself. Fuck.
“Err, it’s a long story and only a short walk home. Can I save that story?”
Remus bit his lip. No, no, he couldn’t save it. “Sure, why not?” Remus didn’t mean for it to come off snippy. Yet it didn't bother Sirius as they continued to walk back in silence, their hands still entwining, playfully swinging as the mansion came into view.
Remus was glad to see the mansion, just happy to see salvation from the cold, rain, and imminent death lurking behind whatever tree Greyback decided could mask his disgusting grotty form. Remus snorted at the idea.
“What’s funny?” Sirius asked as he unlocked the door. He was letting Remus go first, not being overly aware of who was on the other side.
“Nothing, just a thought… it wouldn’t be as funny if I said it out–”
Evan gasped as the air was knocked out of his lungs a second time. It was not like he needed it, nevertheless, the feeling wasn’t that great. Evan tried to focus on what was happening. One moment, he was up thanking his new friend Regulus for giving him and Pandora asylum. The next, he was flat on his back again, staring a new form of death in the eyes. He peered back into those feral, adrenaline-filled amber eyes; the point of the switchblade was digging into his neck, only burying the flesh not enough to kill him; courtesy from his attacker, he was letting him survive long enough to let him explain.
No one really knew how it happened, how a human got the better of a vampire, though Regulus gave Remus his credit where due. Sirius’ hand was wrapped tightly around Remus’ wrist, which held the knife. His breathing ragged, but it quickly calmed. Sirius looked over at his brother, wondering if it was him controlling his boyfriend's emotions, but he just shook his head. Not me. I swear.
Remus’ hand went limp, the knife clattering to the floor as he slowly eased himself up, offering a scarred hand to Evan.
He accepted, of course.
“Sorry, I guess I’m still a little jumpy”, Remus said, looking down at his boots.
“Don’t be; if anyone should apologise, it’s me, but I want to thank you first.” Evan inched closer but felt Regulus' hand grip his shirt, knowing full well it wasn’t a good idea to poke the bear.
“Why would you thank me?” Remus furrowed his brow; why would Evan thank him for nearly killing him? Twice!
“You saved Pandora… you saved me.” Evan wanted to hug Remus and do something to show how grateful he was to have been saved, but how could he? He owned nothing and had nothing to offer. He was an undead dropout from the 1920s. All his family was dead, and anything left to him was probably gone. Remus tilted his head, unsure of what to say; Regulus cleared his throat, trying to get Sirius to pull Remus away. His frustration was going to turn into a rage quickly. And Regulus had learned that Lupins had a notoriously very short temper.
Like everything in the mansion, a simple thank you like this wouldn’t go well without a little drama, as Fleamont burst in with a frantic expression next.
“Come on, Evan. I think it’s best if we go to the cottage. Pandora is waiting for us there.” Regulus pulled Evan again. He opened his mouth but quickly closed it. There is always another time and a place for such things as thank you's and now a life debt that Evan had thought of in those moments.
Fleamont held the door open, watching Regulus and Evan leave for the cottage before turning to Remus with a face full of panic; even Sirius was weary. He had never seen such an expression from his adoptive father.
“Remus, my boy, I must speak with you. Come along,” Fleamont ushered Sirius and Remus into the living room. Sirius already knew what Fleamont was going to ask as they sat down on the white sofa. Remus didn’t really want to have a deep discussion. What he wanted was to hide in a dimly lit room with a cigarette and a good book, but no. His clothes were cold, wet and muddy, and if he were to stand up, he would surely want to hide in a ditch rather than face Effie over the stains he was currently leaving on the sofa. But he quickly forgot about that as Fleamont’s cold, powerful hands grabbed his face as a picture of worry only a parent could have when announcing the death of a beloved family pet played on his face.
“So what is it?” Remus' voice was flat, unsure of how to address the situation. Fleamont sighed, and Sirius wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulder in the hopes that it would help once his adoptive father shared the news.
“It’s about Lyall–”
“My dad? What about him?” Remus narrowed his eyes. It was weird that they would mention his dad. It can’t be dead or anything. He was fine. He was—Sirius gave Remus a reassuring squeeze only to see a raised eyebrow from him. Why was everyone acting weird all of a sudden...
“He wasn’t home when I went to check–”
“Well, yeah, he’s probably halfway to Maine. He’s gone Lobstering with a friend who booked it months back.” Fleamont and Sirius stilled, sharing a mental conversation. Oh, thank god—But the relief had to wait as Effie and James had returned with Regulus, all with two very annoying words on their mind.
Family Meeting.
Remus leaned back on the sofa. The adrenaline of the day had finally worn off, and his body felt heavy and sore. A layer of dirt was clinging to his body. What he wanted right this second was a bath. But Lyall's home did not have a bathtub, just a wet room and by the looks of everyone in the room, Remus was no psychic, but he could see he wasn’t going home tonight as he sunk further into the sofa, hoping to hide from everything and wake up from this awful nightmare he could already feel a pair of eyes on him, it was Regulus. Remus rolled his eyes, mentally slapping himself. Of course, Regulus would be staring. Sirius had told him he could feel and manipulate a person's emotions, and of course, Remus was giving off very big emotions: Fear, frustration, and everything negative. He looked over at Regulus, shaking his head as if he was saying, “What?” but Regulus drew his attention back to Effie and the conversation at hand. Pandora and Evan’s names kept being thrown around, and what to do with them. They also discussed how they were planning on protecting Remus, making the latter want to shrink into a ball and die. He fucking hated being the centre of attention, and right now, he was the damned star of the show.
The conversation finally slowed down enough, and everyone began going over the incident and how they lost track of Greyback. They knew he was still in the Forks area. James had suggested that they leave Forks for a while, draw Greyback away, and lose him, but Remus found that to be a little over the top, and thankfully, so did Andromeda and Effie.
“Well, what do we do? We can’t let him go home–” Sirius sat up, sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Y’know I'm still here, right?” Remus sat up, wincing slightly. Everyone stopped and stared at him. “you haven’t asked me what I want. And what I want is a rotisserie chicken from Costco, a hot bath, and to go to sleep. And going off the very heated argument just now, I won’t be leaving here without an escort, so bath and bed seems like a grand idea.” Remus got up, swaying, nearly falling onto the coffee table if it wasn’t for Regulus catching him.
Effie sighed “Well-” but Sirius cut her off.
“Remus is right; we can’t do anything. We take turns looking after Pandora and Evan, and Remus can stay here until we get Greyback.” Sirius also got up, trying to help Remus steady himself, but he just waved him off.
“I agree; Andromeda and I will take the next shift from Ted whilst he hunts and Remus” Fleamont got up, placing a fatherly hand on his shoulder. “Go upstairs and rest; I'm sure Sirius can find you some clothes” So Remus did.
It wasn't hard to know that the Potter’s mansion was fancy; the open plan design with the minimalistic interior screamed in a tax bracket Remus could only fantasise about having, and when he got into the bathroom, he nearly fainted at the size of the bathtub or jacuzzi or well.
“You really know how to pick 'em, dude”, Romulus blew out in his ghostly way.
“Why is it you only speak to me if I'm in the bathroom or nearly dying?” Remus hobbled over to the toilet, taking a seat as he undid the laces of his boots. The damn things were caked in mud, and it wasn't a lie that his wincing was actually from leaving muddy boot prints all over Effie’s pristine home. Remus finally shucked off his boots, sighing with relief. “Would you be helpful and run me a–” Remus looked over at the bath or well jacuzzi or small pool. “I want to say bath?”
Remus couldn’t hold back the smile as he heard Romulus' ghostly laugh followed by the squeak of the bath’s faucet and water filling the tub.
“Don’t ask for bubbles. I can only do so much.”
Remus loosed a laugh and then grimaced as he pulled his damp t-shirt off his body, letting it drop to the floor. “Oh, that's nasty”, Remus snorted.
“Could be worse. Now, let’s see if these Vampires know how to bathe. I'm sure Andromeda is a Lush girl,” Remus smirked, hobbling over to the cabinet. He pulled the door open, letting the powerful smells of multiple bath bombs bombard him and making his eyes water.
“Oh yeah, one of these is definitely a lush lover or something who owns this many bath bombs anyway,” Remus wafted the air, picking up a bright purple lavender-smelling bath bomb.
“Pretty sure that’s the Twilight one.”
“Since when did you know about bath bombs?”
“I got bored for a bit and hung around the mall.”
Remus made a face, chucking the purple lavender bath bomb into the tub along with some bubbles; he knew he would not sleep well, so he might as well try the old English herb he was told was supposed to help you sleep.
Remus peeled the rest of his clothes off, leaving them in a neat pile on the floor. He hoped Sirius would be back soon with some of his clothes from home, especially his hoodie. He could really do with that, finally sliding down into the full tub, grimacing when a small amount of water splashed out. “Oops.” but the warm water mixed with the lavender quickly pulled Remus into a lulling calmness as his body finally untensing muscles he did not know were so taught; even his knee and hip enjoyed the feeling.
“Man, this is good.” Remus hummed.
“So you feeling better?”
“Could say that; I don't think I've ever had a bath. Well, one I could fit in.” Remus slid further down, playing with the bubbles before submerging fully and coming back up again.
“How can we forget we got dad's lanky bastard genes?” Romulus laughed along with his brother. Remus slicked his hair back, propping his chin up on the side of the bath, closing his eyes.
“How did you appear earlier?”
Romulus stayed silent, trying to think of the words. Remus sighed, rolling over again and sinking into the warm water. “I don’t know. You made me go away all those years ago…”
“Yeah, so you keep telling me. Ugh, how much more weird shit is going to happen to us?” Remus groaned, scrubbing his face with water, hissing at the sting from the cut to his cheek.
Romulus was silent longer than normal, which made Remus open his eyes, meeting grey ones, not Sirius’, but “Fuck!”
Remus swallowed bathwater in surprise as Regulus stood over him. He wasn’t expecting visitors, and he assumed everyone would leave him alone, especially when he was so naked in the bath, but then again, Remus knew the potters were a bit of a weird family.
“Who were you talking to?” Regulus tilted his head. He had the aura of a curious child as he looked into Remus’ eyes. Remus hadn’t noticed the tiny hints of blue in regulus’ eyes. So much like Sirius’, but they didn't swirl. They were just like a frozen lake, grey at the top. This very pale icy blue mixed in there.
“Is hello even a word in your vocabulary?” Remus spluttered; Regulus continued to stare at him, his question still lingering in the air. Remus realised that Regulus always wanted answers and not half-truths. But that didn’t stop him from lying to the younger Black.
“No one”, Remus said sheepishly, catching his breath and covering his nakedness with the bubbles. Regulus frowned, taking a seat on the floor and leaning against the tub. He had brought a book with him. To Remus’ surprise, he guessed Regulus was going to stay in here for a while, probably protection duty. “You’re a terrible liar.” Regulus rolled his eyes, flipping to his page, “Can I stay with you for a bit?” Remus looked around to hope Romulus had made another surprise appearance but didn’t, and now Remus could feel loneliness creep up on him. What’s the worst that could happen, letting Regulus stay.
“I guess. Are you okay?” Remus didn’t know what prompted him to ask, but it was better than sitting in awkward silence.
“I suppose everything just got a bit much, I guess, and you’re just like Sirius said. Quiet.”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend–”
“No, it’s fine. I can’t take a compliment. Sorry,” Remus squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to drown in the tub. Regulus laughed at the awkwardness. The pair sat in comfortable silence. Remus didn’t mind it. It felt better when someone was with him—someone he could actually see for a change.
“I was talking to my brother,” Remus started. “it’s weird because he’s dead, and I’m sure you think I’m crazy-”
“Does he make for good conversation?” Regulus looked over at Remus, who had propped up on the side of the bath with his elbows.
“you believe me?”
“You’re dating my brother, who is a vampire that can read minds and died in the 1800s talking to your dead brother is honestly not the weirdest thing to happen today- but you didn’t answer my question.” Regulus smiled at Remus, who returned the gesture; he was right, though. How can the concept of talking to your dead brother be weirder than being in love with a mind-reading vampire whose brother is also a vampire that can control people’s emotions?
“Sometimes, though he only wants to talk when it suits him.”
“Brothers are like that sometimes.” Regulus stood up, heading to the cabinet, and pulled out two large bottles of product. “They can fight demons and still have time for a silly conversation–here.” he handed the bottles clearly marked Shampoo and conditioner, both equally expensive considering the fancy packaging, to Remus. He bit his lip, unsure if it was okay to use it, but Regulus assured him, “Don’t worry, it’s mine; I feel as though I'm the only one who enjoys the bathroom in this house,” Regulus grumbled, taking his seat and leaning against the bath again as Remus shrugged, lathering his hair up. Surprisingly, he didn't mind the conversation with Regulus. They somehow got along better than he thought they would.
“So the bath bombs are yours?” Remus finished working the Shampoo on his hair.
“Yes, yes, they are,” Regulus replied. He had gone to sit on the edge of the tub, dipping his hand into the water like a cat who was not sure if he should go into the water.
“I’ll replace them.” Remus was quick to reply. He knew how expensive Lush was, and he didn’t want to come across as a greedy, inconsiderate guest, but Regulus snorted,
“No need to replace them; it’s good to find out I have good taste in Bombe de Bain.”
“Does everyone here speak French?” Remus looked over at Regulus, washing the suds from his hair.
“Non~ Just Sirius and I, why?”
“Just wanted to know in case everyone talks about me like I’m some poor wounded animal about to be euthanised.”
“Bit dark,” Regulus deadpanned, causing them both to laugh uncontrollably. The pair continued to talk.
Sirius paced around his room, unsure of what to do. He knew he needed to get Remus clothes, but how? That was the definitive question: How was he supposed to get them? Sirius hadn’t realised how deep in thought he was until Andromeda was in his room, setting down piles of Ted’s clothes onto the paint-splattered chase suit.
“Andy?” Sirius stopped watching his cousin; it was true they were cousins very distant, though, back when the House of Black was still finding its footing in the world of nobles back in the 17th century. “What are you doing?”
Andromeda sighed, taking a seat. “I'm trying to help, trying to do something other than worry. Plus, Ted is the only one in the house who would have trousers that are long enough for Remus.” She flicked her gaze up to Sirius and then behind him towards his wardrobe. “I know his suitcase is still up there. Why not let him borrow the clothes inside it?”
“Moths might have eaten them.” Sirius was quick to answer; he couldn’t let Remus have those clothes, and it would be weird. They were his technically in another life, but still—
“Sirius, don’t you think you should move on? Eternity is a long time to grieve” Andromeda knew what she was doing; she was trying to get Sirius to open up about everything that he had gone through. Of all the years she had known him, she could tell his heart was constantly breaking. “I know he wasn’t the only one. I hope one day you will feel strong enough to tell us their names” She didn’t bother to stay any longer, leaving Sirius' room and not looking back, but she did what she had to. Weave a web.
When the Death Eaters cast her out for having no significant power they could exploit, it was all a web of lies. Webs she spun out of her words like silk, she made everyone believe she was worthless, and it worked.
Sirius thought a second longer, then looked at the clothes Andromeda had left. It wasn’t anything fancy, just some sweatpants and T-shirts. Sirius grumbled, heading to the wardrobe and pulling down the leather suitcase. The metal clasps had rusted over the years, thanks to Sirius not taking the best care of it, but he popped the lid off, and there it was, the life of someone he held so close, just folded up, waiting for its owner to come back.
Remus had returned from his bath smelling a lot more like lavender than chocolate; Sirius turned to look at him. His hair was dripping, and his lips were blue. Regulus was behind him and going off because his clothes were wet. Sirius knew exactly where he had been the little—
“Your house is freezing,” Remus said, wrapping the bathrobe Regulus had found around him a little tighter.
“Don’t worry. I’ll speak with Effie, and I’m sure she knows how to turn up the heating.” Regulus smiled at his brother menacingly, not before taking Remus’ clothes. “I’ll get these washed for you as well.”
“Thanks, Reggie” Remus looked at the younger Black, smiling.
Remus stood awkwardly in Sirius’ bedroom, both of them unable to talk; Sirius was the first to start, hating the silence,
“I found you some clothes; they are a little dated,” he gestured to the suitcase. “Andy also left you some of Ted’s clothes, but these looked like they would fit you better.”
“thanks” Remus looked, pulling out a pair of bell-bottom jeans and a Knitt jumper. “When you said dated, did you mean 70s vintage? These clothes are designer and in near-mint condition, Sirius. Are you sure I can wear these?” he looked up at Sirius, who was just confused; the gear in the case wasn’t that great. It was stuff he bought a bit of Gucci and some Levi’s jeans, but he just let Remus get changed in private, catching his brother up in the kitchen.
Remus pulled out more clothes from the case admiring the person who used to own these clothes taste because he knew damn well it wasn’t Sirius who had this stuff. He wore blacks, reds, and whites and nothing else. If it weren't in leather, Sirius wouldn't wear it, which Remus found a little strange. But he continued to sift through his clothing, pulling out a knit jumper. It was perfect. He slipped it on, embracing its warmth. The weirdest part was that it felt like it belonged to him all along, and he even went for the jeans. They were a little big for him, but nothing too bad. Remus continued to admire himself in the mirror. His cheek was a little puffy and inflamed from a cut, but other than that, he managed to get out unscathed.
Remus didn't really know what to do with himself. Romulus was quiet and well dead. Regulus and Sirius were probably talking about him, so he was left alone in Sirius’s room. He knew better than to pry in someone’s bedroom, but then again, how many times do you get to explore the room of an eternal being? Remus’ smirk played on his lips as he sifted through a few canvases’ falling on a dark blue one; he pulled it out, mesmerised by the figure. It was him. But the colours seemed old and dated from what knowledge he had from a few fine art classes he took in Arizona. As he pulled the canvas out, further photos spilled out from behind.
“shit” he scrambled to pick the polaroids and old timey postcard photos until he noticed the faces, he paused rocking on the balls of his feet until he couldn’t stay like that and rocked back stretching his leg out. He sifted through the photos, some old Polaroids from the 70s. He recognised the jumper on the man next to Sirius. he looked a lot like Remus, a chipped canine, but his eyes were green, and he didn't have curly hair. He was a lot bigger in the sense of mass. Remus was tall and skinny because he ate little. He probably could be the same as the ‘70s version of him if he changed his relationship with food, but he wasn’t time to dwell on that. Remus turned the photo around, reading the scribbles on the back: ‘Me and him - 1974’ Then, to another image, which was older, a portrait was obviously taken with an Obscura camera. Still, Sirius looked more alive in that photo.
Oh.
Oh.
“What are you doing?” Sirius asked, making Remus jump and spilling the photos again.
“Who are the men in this photo?” is an innocent question. But Remus had to know why did Sirius have so many old photos of him or well men that looked like him. Sirius did not bother to answer. He just collected the pictures, dropping them carelessly back in his crate of canvases, another memory he didn’t want to remember and carelessly toss them away as if they were nothing to him. Remus bit down his anger. was Sirius really that absent minded about people he loved. Would he end up like the man in the photo carelessly dropped into a crate of canvases only to be found by the next version of him a never-ending cycle of hating and loving and then simply discarding?
“It doesn’t matter; they're dead,” Sirius said coldly, but Remus was quick to grab his wrist, stopping him from running away.
“It matters to me. They obviously meant something to you. Why not tell me about them?” It was an olive branch into learning more about the vampire in front of him, and Remus really didn’t want to fight though his mind was racing with ideas anxiety and anger mixing their broth of scenarios. His body was aching and tired, and going by the lack of bed in Sirius’ room, he had the idea he was probably going to be sleeping on the chase suite covered in dried paint, anyway.
Sirius looked at Remus, sighing “can I tell you after you have had a rest? You look exhausted, and these-” he gestured to the rest of the crate that held a lot more memories than paintings “are a very long story”
Remus contemplated it, but the yawn wracked through him, determining the outcome.
“Fine, tell me tomorrow” he said getting up and pressing a kiss to Sirius forehead sitting on the chase suite pulling at a loose thread.