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It was on the train back to Hogwarts for sixth year when Remus noticed the first sign.
Sirius boarded, already in his uniform. That was unusual for him, but he explained it away pretty easily with the fact that his mother had forced him to wear it. On its own, the story made sense- but Remus knew that Sirius, in the lingering summer heat, would typically have his sleeves rolled up. Only, he didn’t. And when Remus’s eyes lingered before glancing up to catch Sirius’s, Sirius looked away quickly.
“Hey, Pads?” Remus asked, up in their dorm later that night. “What’s with the long sleeves? You always have them rolled up, especially when it’s warm. And now-” he gestured to the pajamas Sirius was pulling out. “Not only are you sleeping with pajamas, you’re also sleeping with long sleeves.”
“It’s nothing, Moony.” Sirius answered, a hard edge to his voice. “No need to be such a worrywart; I’m fine. Just something new I’m trying.”
You’re lying, Remus thinks immediately. But still, he let it go, said goodnight, and Sirius pulled his curtains closed, shutting him out.
The second thing he noticed was the exhaustion.
On the train, Sirius didn’t sleep like he normally would. Instead, he was lively and chatty and bubbly, channeling the person everyone knew and loved. But Remus saw the bags under his eyes, and the way he held himself was evidently concealing exhaustion. Evidently, because Remus did it himself.
He ate more at meals, too, like he was a man starving. Almost as much as Remus- and Remus ate a lot, because he needed the sustenance as a werewolf, and to make up for his lack of sleep.
He walked sluggishly. Didn’t participate much in class. Only ever really had energy with the Marauders- which was, Remus could tell, fake. A mask to hide whatever may lie underneath.
Then came the third thing: the nights.
He would hear Sirius padding to the bathroom at ungodly hours, even when classes started. Being an insomniac with ridiculously heightened senses (maybe being a werewolf did come in handy, sometimes), Remus was able to listen to every noise. Sirius’s breathing was a little too heavy, a little too shaky, and his footsteps a little too off-balance.
By the third night of this, Remus had had enough.
With some trial and error, he reversed the silencing charm around Sirius’s bed. He wasn’t stupid, though, and cast one around James and Peter’s beds. He knew Sirius had put the charm up for a reason. He left his own bed uncharmed, so he could hear everying.
And then he waited.
The screams came around two in the morning, and Remus was ready. He padded over to Sirius’s bed with a bar of chocolate and his wand lighting the way, and pushed open the bedcurtains.
The sight before him tugged and squeezed at his heart- watching his best friend (who he, secretly, had fancied for a ridiculous amount of time) thrash and scream and cry out in terror; it was awful.
And Remus wasn’t the best at comforting. But he sure as fuck wasn’t going to sit and do nothing.
So, he sat down on the edge of the bed, and cupped Sirius’s face with his free hand, wiping his thumb gently along his cheek.
“Padfoot. Wake up. It’s okay. Come on, Pads. Wake up for me.” Remus’s voice was the softest it had ever been, but loud enough to wake Sirius, whose eyes shot open, wide and panicked and wet.
He breathed hard, seemingly unseeing for a minute, and Remus moved his hand to his shoulder as he came back to himself.
“Re-Remus? Moony?”
“Hi. I’m here.”
“Shit.” Sirius dug his palms into his eyes, arms clad with long pajama sleeves. “I’m sorry. I-I thought I-”
“You did. I undid it. Maybe I overstepped, but I’ve heard you at night, going into the bathroom at ridiculous times. I know something is up. Is it nightmares?”
The black haired boy’s breath hitched, and he bit his lip as his eyes searched Remus’s face. Remus could see everything raging in his head, and just opened his arms. So Sirius fell into the taller boy’s chest, curling up small in the embrace.
Remus shifted closer, and didn’t say a word as the tears came. Just rubbed his back and held him and rocked back and forth, waiting patiently for them to stop.
“I brought you chocolate. From my secret stash.” He whispered, when Sirius’s shoulders finally stopped shaking.
That brought a shaky laugh, and that sound reassured Remus that he’d done the right thing. So he handed over the chocolate, and they snacked on it in silence for a minute or two.
“Just for the record, I want you to know that if this happens, I want to know. I wanna be there. I’m more than happy for you to wake me up. Hell, I’m more than happy to sleep in bed with you, if that’s what you want. You aren’t alone, got it? Moony and Padfoot. We do shit together, remember?”
Sirius did remember. He remembered saying the same thing to Remus when he found out about his lycanthropy, and worked his ass off with the other Marauders to become animagi. Moony and Padfoot; they wouldn’t let eachother go through shit alone.
“Yeah.” He croaked. “I remember.”
“Good.” Remus smiled softly. He placed his hand on top of his and squeezed, which gave Sirius the courage to ask what he had already been given permission for.
“...Will you stay?”
“Of course I will. C’mon. Budge up, lemme under the quilt.”
The nightmares didn’t come again that night. Not with Remus’s arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tight, not letting him go. And Remus managed to sleep, too, with his nose buried in the crook of Sirius’s neck, and Sirius’s back pressed against his chest. Honestly, this was the best either of them had slept in a long while, and just for a moment, Remus could pretend that this was what he wanted it to be.
A couple of weeks into term, the weather got hotter, with an unseasonably late heatwave.
Sirius had been sleeping better with Remus in his bed (and so had Remus), but the long sleeves stayed. And it wasn’t just Remus who noticed now.
“Pads, why the fuck are you in long sleeves, mate? It’s like, thirty degrees.”
“It’s all the fashion, James. You just wouldn’t get it.” Sirius shrugged, nonchalantly.
“But-”
“Leave it, Prongs.” Remus interjected. Later on, James would express his concern to him, and Peter would nod in agreement. Remus would reassure them that it was likely nothing- long sleeves are a muggle fad at the moment, and, you know how much Sirius likes to piss his folks off with muggle fashion.
But, really, Remus agreed. He was worried, but he couldn’t do much about it. Sirius would shut any of them out if they asked and pushed, so he had to bide his time. He had asked once, and let it go. The next time, he wouldn’t. But he wouldn’t force Sirius to talk against his will, either.
That Friday, the heat reached its peak, at a staggering 37°C. Coincidentally, it coincided with the first Quidditch match of the year, which James was playing in. Thankfully, Sirius wasn’t playing; still banned from partaking thanks to his pranking habits from last year.
Remus watched that afternoon as Sirius frantically scrambled through all of his long sleeved clothes- his selection was limited, and the majority of it was heavy, thermal fabric.
James was down at practice before the match, with Peter cheering and coaching, so he decided it was the perfect time to broach the subject.
“Sirius,” He said, gently, walking over to him with a jumper in his hands.
The aforementioned jumper was one of Remus’s personal favourites during summer- it was light-coloured, with light fabric, and it was knitted and airy. He had also charmed the clothing so it kept him cool when he didn’t want to show his scars in the summer.
“Um- yeah?” Sirius turned around and stood, looking up to face Remus. He tried to look calm and collected, but unfortunately for him, Remus could hear his heart beating at an unusually fast rate- something that only happened when he was extremely anxious about something.
“I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk about it. But for now, I just want you to be comfortable. This will work to cover your arms and keep you cool.”
Sirius looked down, taking the jumper in his hands. Tears sprung to his eyes, and he was too late to blink them back, and too late to catch the sob that fell from his lips.
“Oh, baby.” The term of endearment slipped from Remus’s lips unbidden, and he wrapped his arms around Sirius, tucking him safely beneath his chin. “You’re okay. You aren’t alone, Sirius. Promise. You don’t have to hide. Especially not from me.”
Sirius clutched Remus like a lifeline, sobbing and breaking and it all came tumbling down. Every wall, every lie, every façade was gone; stripped away by a tall, nerdy werewolf that was far too fucking sweet.
“I’m sorry.” He sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh,” Remus hushed. “There’s no need for apologies, love. All I want is for you to be okay.”
“It’s so hard.”
“I know, baby.”
“I didn’t mean to do it, I swear.”
“I know, baby.” Remus allowed his impulses to take over, and kissed the top of Sirius’s head. “I know.”
Sirius sniffled, and tightened his grip.
“When was the last time?”
“...Wednesday.” Tears welled up again, and his throat constricted. “I’m sorry-”
“Oi.” Remus pulled back, and cupped Sirius’s face. “What did I say? No apologies.” A kiss, lingering, on Sirius’s forehead. “Are you taking care of it properly?”
Sirius chewed his lip. “Probably not, no.”
“Alright. Thank you for being honest with me.”
Remus thought for a moment. How could he help? James was best at comforting. But Remus? He didn’t really know what to do. He thought he had done alright, but deep down, he was a problem solver. Would that work now? He bloody well hoped so; if it didn’t, he was fucked.
“...What if I take a look? I know what I’m doing, I can check them over and stuff. Would that- would that be okay?”
A moment of hesitation, but Sirius nodded. Remus sighed in relief, and reached down to grab his hand, leading him into the bathroom. He had Sirius sit on the side of bath while he dug around under the sink for his first aid kit. He opened it up, and knelt on the floor in front of the bath.
It was only when Sirius lifted his sleeve that it really hit him.
Remus’s eyes filled with tears, and a quiet “fuck” slipped from his lips. He took a deep breath, though, and steadied himself, blinking back his tears. He was strong for Sirius. Strong as he held his hand while he cleaned the wounds, some fresher, some older. He was strong as he applied antiseptic, letting Sirius squeeze as hard as he needed when it stung. He was strong as he wrapped his wrist, making sure the bandage wasn’t too tight or too loose.
He let the strength melt away when he had finished. Sirius was so tense, and Remus had a sneaking suspicion he still didn’t realise just how important he was.
So when the tears burned his eyes again, he didn’t stop them. He looked up at Sirius, and looked him in the eye, and squeezed his hand. He held his arm, and dipped his head to press a gentle and lingering kiss to the bandage over his wrist.
When he looked up again, Sirius’s eyes were as wet as his own.
“Please, baby.” Remus whispered, voice thick. “Please don’t go through this alone. Please let me in. Let me be here, Sirius, I-... Fuck, I love you, Pads. I love you so much, and it kills me to know you’re hurting so much. You don’t deserve any of it. At all.”
Sirius choked back a sob. He heard the emotion in Remus’s voice. Maybe he was misreading it, but...
He slid off the side of the bath, sitting on Remus’s thighs.
“I love you too, Remus.” He said in a whisper.
Neither boy knew who moved first, but then their lips met, soft and slow and full of so much meaning. Remus tangled his hand in the back of Sirius’s head, the other resting on his upper thigh. Sirius’s hands both held Remus’s face, like he was afraid he would crumble to dust.
And when they finally broke apart, Sirius believed Remus when he said,
“I am so fucking in love with you.”
“I’m in love with you too, Moony.”
“Will you let me help? Please?”
“Yeah,” Sirius sniffed. “Okay. I’ll try. But I think- I think we should probably head to James’s game.”
“Yeah,” Remus huffed a small laugh, squeezing his love’s thigh gently, rubbing his thumb gently left and right over the fabric of his jeans. “He might kill us, otherwise.”