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Sirius woke up, jerking upright in his bed, clutching the sheets with his hands. He was breathing heavily. He closed his eyes and looked around again.
A dream. Another nightmare. He knew he was safe, but the scary images didn't seem to have disappeared, it seemed that Walburga would reach behind the curtain with her long fingers and open the curtains at any moment. There was no trace of the wound in the place that had been burned by the spell in his dream, only clean, light skin.
Goosebumps ran down his back, and his fingers trembled slightly. He hadn't dreamed about his family for a long time, and there were no prerequisites. Perhaps if he had expected this nightmare, it wouldn't have been so scary, but it caught him disarmed and unprepared.
Suddenly, there was a rustling sound in the room. "Mum," Sirius swallowed.
"Padfoot, is that you?" Moony's voice rang out.
Sirius shook his head weakly, not even thinking about the fact that Remus wouldn't see him. After a few more moments, the curtains slid aside slightly, and Sirius had to hold his breath, but he let out a sigh of relief when Remus appeared in the darkness.
"Padfoot," he drawled again, "why aren't you asleep?"
His voice was sleepy, worried, his golden curls were disheveled, and his eyes were drooping. He stood next to the bed, waiting for an answer, and shivered in the cold of the bedroom.
"Go back to your bed, Remus," Sirius said, more harshly than he had intended. It made him freeze and look at his friend, but Remus was not at all put off by the angry tone. He seemed to be getting even more worried.
"Had another nightmare, huh?" he asked.
Unable to lie, Sirius nodded briefly.
The curtains fell again, and there were soft footsteps retreating. Sirius slumped back on the bed, disappointed, sure that Remus had simply given up and gone to bed. Serves him right, Sirius. No need to drool. It had been forgivable to freak out about those visions in his first years, but he was an adult now, and as a sixteen-year-old boy, crying from nightmares, he looked simply ridiculous.
On the other hand, didn't you feel sorry for Remus every time he had dreams about that very night and meeting Greyback? Did he seem pathetic and weak? No.
Don't compare yourself to him.
Someone started rummaging around in the bed next to Sirius's, and then Remus appeared at Sirius's bed again. This time he was standing there with a blanket in his hands and a battered stuffed wolf, and it took Sirius an awkward amount of time to figure out how to make room for him.
"You don't have to..."
"Stop it. And move away, Rodolph has nowhere to lie down."
"You didn't name your childhood toy Rodolph, did you?" Sirius chuckled after a mysterious silence, "Tell me honestly, Moony, how old are you?"
"This should stay between us. Like the fact that I still can't sleep without it."
Sirius smiled. The wolf cub was about fourteen years old, if not older - Remus's first toy that his mother had given him. Sirius knew how dear it was to him, especially now that she was gone. Every time it inspired Sirius: maybe if this plush, torn up piece of cloth protected Remus from nightmares, he should get something like a talisman too. But no matter what toys he slept with, none of it worked.
It was noticeable how Sirius' mood changed immediately after Remus appeared next to him. How the mood around him changed. Remus wasn't trying to be funny or overly caring (he was caring in his own right, damn it), he was just being himself. He was warm, and Sirius didn't feel so cold anymore.
"So... what were you dreaming about?" Remus asked curiously.
"Mum," he chuckled.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Moony asked tactfully, looking into his eyes.
Remus' eyes were dark, brown, with a bright amber tint. And Sirius's heart skipped a beat every time he looked into them. Coming to his senses and shaking his head shyly, so that his long hair would cover his face, Sirius declined.
"Okay," Remus agreed and smiled sweetly, "but you can always tell me about something that worries you, okay?" He sat up in bed, hugging his knees with his arms, and Sirius propped himself up on his elbows. It was obvious that Remus was terribly sleepy, but he didn't lie down and tried not to show it, although his head was still hanging down to his knees and his eyes were closing.
He's not sleeping for me, Sirius thought. Something in his lower stomach twisted pleasantly with trepidation.
"I'll sort out my own problems, Remus. You shouldn't get involved in them."
"I just want to help," he answered absently. "You're not a burden to me if you're so afraid of it. No one has ever forced me to care about you.
No one has ever forced me to care about you.
"To hell with caring. I'm an impenetrable punk."
Remus laughed softly, and Merlin, if that sound could be heard forever, Sirius would have agreed without hesitation.
He let out a hoarse sigh from his own thoughts and fell tiredly onto the pillow. Remus bowed his head and laid it on his lap, and his wavy hair fell softly on his pale face. A distant smile froze on his lips. Sirius no longer cared about any nightmares and horrors, they retreated to the very back of the planes next to Remus, and if he had even one chance to get close to those lips, he would hardly resist it.
Sirius suppressed the desire to groan in irritation. How could he think about such things when his best friend came to comfort him in the middle of the night, sacrificing his own sleep, with such innocent eyes. I wonder if Remus could read other people's thoughts, what would his reaction be now? Would he be scared? Angry?
"You think too much," Remus noted. "Is it because of the dream? Try to get it out of your head. The longer you replay it in your head, the more it will appear again. Maybe not now, then next night. Take a cue from Rudolph, he doesn't care about anything at all.
Sirius looked at Rudolph. Rudolph seemed to wink at him with his huge blue button.
Sirius shook his head. It seemed so. And Remus suddenly frowned.
"Aren't you cold?"
"Not really."
"James needs to stop airing out the room at night. Anyway, I think I'm going to turn into an icicle soon. And you, too, by the way."
Remus picked up the edge of the other man's blanket and pulled it up to Sirius's eye level. He folded his legs together and hid them under the heavy blanket, and began to wrap Sirius up, checking all the gaps to make sure he was completely covered.
"You can't sleep without a blanket in this cold. You'll catch a cold, Padfoot."
"You grumble like an old woman.
Remus didn't dignify this statement with a reply, but looked meaningfully at Sirius. He continued to adjust the blanket, and only when it covered him perfectly, he tucked himself under his own up to his nose, taking up half the pillow.
His arm wrapped around the wolf cub, pressing him closer. Sirius seriously thought that he probably had never seen anything cuter in his entire life.
As soon as Sirius began to fall asleep, he was suddenly enveloped by the same fear - what if he falls asleep, and his mother comes to him in a dream again? Remus's eyes were already closed, and he did not want to wake him. After a couple of minutes of uneasy silence, Sirius felt Moony groping for his hand under the blanket and slowly connecting their fingers.
Merlin.
Sirius's heart was trying to jump out of his chest.
Stop. It's just a friendly gesture.
"Are you still scared, Padfoot?" Remus asked, half asleep.
“I’m not scared,” he lied.
Moony didn’t comment on it. After all, they both knew it was a lie.
Instead of an answer, there was silence. Not an uncomfortable silence. With Remus, silence was rarely awkward. It was as if they could talk in their minds, sense each other’s moods on some subconscious level. In the darkness that still pressed down on Sirius, he felt a touch on his forearm.
Remus moved closer, put his hand on his chest, and buried his nose in Sirius’s shoulder. The half-embrace stunned him for a few seconds. He swallowed hard and turned his head — what if he imagined it?
His hot breath almost burned Sirius’s neck. It was arousing, so sultry and inviting. Why did Sirius melt so desperately from any touch, why couldn't he suppress his stupid crush? But along with this desire, warmth spread in his chest, as if the sun was turning on like a light bulb. Remus supported him, got up in the middle of the night, slept with him in the same bed - could a person be so kind completely free of charge, so selflessly? Like an angel.
Yes, Remus could definitely be compared to an angel. Perhaps he was a talisman for him, like a toy for Remus. Sirius unconsciously (or maybe consciously) put his hand on his waist. The plush wolf lay on his stomach, and Remus sighed.
"Sleep, Padfoot. Think about something good, and you will definitely dream about it. I am here, Rodolphus is here, Walburga will not get you. Good night, Sirius."
And Sirius no longer had nightmares.