Title: Existence

Disclaimer: Artwork is by uppuN ( uppun. deviantart art/ Remus-and-Sirius- 136379719)

Rating: M

Warnings: Dark AU

Wow, it's been such a long time since I updated. This chapter was actually partially complete but I wasn't able to finish it after I went through a stupid, stupid car accident where the other car driver was a total idiot and probably blind as a bat. These past months have been horrid and difficult, and I still freeze when I have to get on the passenger seat…but yeah. I'm still recovering here and there, so wish me luck with that. :) I honestly didn't have the heart to leave this fic alone, especially when it was just one chapter short. And yes, I finally get to reply to all your reviews and also thank you so much for all the concerned mails in my inbox. I was so surprised to see them when I opened my account and I hope you guys still remember me and this story.

Anyway, enough talking and do enjoy! ^.^ Oh, and yes, this one doesn't start with a session because this is the end. So…it's going to start off a little different.

Chapter 06: Yellow Flames

'I'm not going to hurt anybody.'

James looked at Remus and sighed. 'I know,' he replied, slightly loosening his death like grip on Remus's wrist. He noticed with a slight feeling of guilt that his fingers had left bright red indents on Remus's pale skin. 'I know you won't, but just…' James hesitated, looking around Diagon Alley randomly just to avoid having to meet Remus's odd amber eyes. 'Just give me some time, alright? I trust you, but I've never done this.' He ran a nervous hand through the back of his hair. 'I don't even know if I should be doing this.'

'You don't have to,' Remus replied simply.

It was the attitude he had, James noticed, with most things that were given to him. As if Remus wasn't used to the receiving the things James and most other people considered their birthright. Things like freedom of speech, a will of your own, or even sometimes, the need to breathe. Yet, perhaps because of this, Remus was sharp. He caught on to things quicker than most people and learned by observation alone. His stoic face betrayed no knowledge, but James had been monitoring and teaching Remus magic for the past week. Every morning, James would spend a good few hours showing Remus how to use a wand and how to create basic spells. It came as no surprise to James that Sirius had agreed to it; it meant that even the few hours Remus had had away from Sirius were reduced. It meant that Remus could be kept under constant watch and control.

James had seen Remus's potential. Unfortunately, so had Sirius...

'I want to. I can't explain it, but you're good and you work hard.' A few people in Flourish and Botts pointed at them and James realised how odd it must look for two grown men to be holding hands like this. 'Maybe it's because I didn't have very high expectation of you to start with. I just honestly wanted to get you out of that house before…'

'Before I kill Sirius?'

Again, James was struck by both Remus's insight and straight forwardness. 'Before both of you killed each other,' James replied slowly. 'I don't like that place. I've never liked it. I never will as long as that bleeding hag is around, which seems like forever given that disgusting portrait. I really…' James stopped mid rant. '…never mind. No matter what I say, Sirius will never throw it out.'

There was an awkward silence between then and James tried to distract himself my looking at Madame Malkin's wide array of robes. There was one that was a hideous orange with green stitched leaves all over the hem. The old, forgotten prankster inside James stirred slightly before James pushed it down.

'Has Sirius said anything to you lately?' James asked uncomfortably. What James really wanted to know was if Sirius has done anything; had hurt Remus in anyway, provoked him or done something utterly stupid like get him to transform without a full moon. What James really wanted to know was the extent of Sirius's instability and a reassurance that he could still trust his friend. That he wouldn't be forced to put Sirius in the mental ward at Mungo's; and that he could continue lying to himself that Sirius was still, more or less, fine. Sirius was fine.

James was kidding himself; grasping at straws really. Sirius was completely unstable. No matter how much James blathered on about trusting Remus and wanting to give him a chance, the truth was that Sirius was the reason he was doing this. Sirius was the one who had cornered James in his office, eyes a shade of grey James had never seen. Undecipherable – not malicious, not evil, but almost as if they were trying to hide want. He had whispered harshly into James's ear, 'I want you to make him stronger. Have him fight back with more intensity; equip him so that he's unstoppable; give him the strength he needs, so that this time if he wants, he can end it.

A sick part of James wanted all this to end. He had agreed because that would have been the lesser of two evils. If he refused Sirius, it was very likely that Remus wouldn't last much longer. If he refused Sirius, it was also possible that Sirius would use James's family against him. Threaten him with Harry; throw him into a guilt trip with Lily: Sirius knew all his weaknesses. Sirius loved James's weaknesses – treated them like his own family and lavished them with gifts, but he also misused them when times called for it.

'He hasn't said anything,' Remus said softly, his eyes still wandering around Diagon Alley as if memorising the routes. James remembered that it was probably the first time Remus every stepped foot in a busy market place like this.

James breathed half a sigh of relief. He had expected differently, especially given how Sirius's insatiable hunger for Remus was growing like an obsession. A terrifying obsession that James wanted to put an end to.

'It's frightening,' Remus whispered, catching James off-guard. 'He ignores me and it's frightening.'

James frowned, trying to read Remus's face but not quite finding an answer in his twisted, crooked lips and the furrows of his eyebrows. 'I don't understand…'

'I-' Remus ran a hand through the short crops of his hair. 'He's only kind to me when he wants to be cruel.'

James froze. She's only kind to me when she wants to be cruel. Hadn't Sirius confessed the same thing back in school about Walburga Black? Hadn't he? Or was it James's imagination playing tricks of déjà vu and Sirius-redemption. To show love only so that the hatred burned till they left deep scars of pain and anguish. James had almost forgotten about it.

'Remus,' James said softly, suddenly feeling horribly nauseous. 'If you ever wanted to leave…' He shook his head, dispelling the thoughts. It was a stupid idea. A stupid hope when in reality, Sirius was trying to control every aspect of Remus's life. Remus wasn't strong enough. 'Never mind. We're here.'

Remus looked up at the beige signboard, his eyes carefully following the cursive brown handwriting. 'Olive…Olive-an-'

'Ollivander's Wands,' James read out for him.

'Ollivander's Wands,' Remus repeated slowly to himself, enunciating every syllable. He was getting better at reading; though James still couldn't fathom where he had picked it up from. Had he known it from when he was human or learnt it during captivity?

'Morning, Mr. Potter,' Ollivander greeted as they walked in. 'Mr. Black mentioned you'd be stopping by.'

James nodded as a small gesture of understanding. He understood the undertones of the conversation. Sirius had specified Ollivander not to ask questions about Remus; perhaps threatened him, if James knew how Sirius dealt well enough. What had Sirius threatened with, James wondered? The taxes Ollivander's had skipped over the years; the illegal wand cores for his "privileged customers", or had Sirius just said James was on his way and known that he wouldn't have to say anymore. Sometimes, Sirius's name and presence was enough to get things done quickly.

James let go of Remus's wrist warily. 'Remus, just start with whatever wand calls out to you, alright?'

Remus nodded, reaching for the first wand that Ollivander handed out. The small shiver that passed through Ollivander when their fingers brushed briefly didn't escape James's notice. Ollivander was a man who understood the cores and flow of magic. Even if he didn't understand what Remus was, he knew when things weren't quite normal.

James moved backward slightly, expecting the jagged bolt of uncontrolled magic even before it shattered the nearest lamp to pieces. James had personally been training Remus for the past few days and nearly been injured twice from magical backlash. When Remus looked at him unsurely, he smiled reassuringly and nodded, gesturing him to take the next wand.

James moved further back when a bright red spark set Ollivander's register on fire. He sat down of the farthest sofa possible, his eyes brushing over the headlines on the newspaper resting on the sofa arm. 'I can't believe Rosier is dead after all these years,' James commented offhandedly. 'Killed by a heart attack; ridiculous! The man was like an ox.'

'I'm usually not the one to have an opinion, Mr. Potter,' Ollivander whispered quietly with slight animosity, 'but it's a well deserved death. It should have come sooner.'

James agreed completely, but had no intention of voicing his thoughts. He himself was part of a pureblood corporation; however different Sirius may be from the rest, he still worked in twisted ways. Also, James had a feeling Ollivander's hostility stretched farther than Rosier.

'I'm just surprised there isn't more concern raised about pureblood supremacy and their extinction. Times had truly changed, don't you think, Mr. Potter?'

James raised an eyebrow, feeling his muscles tighten. 'Why do you say that?' He honestly didn't want this conversation to go any further, for Ollivander's sake. James would never leak or mention anything, nor would Remus; but James couldn't guarantee Sirius's reach here. Especially when Remus was concerned.

'You've noticed, haven't you, Mr. Potter: the older generations of Pureblood have been disappearing after the war. Azkaban, political strife, falling empires, even ridiculous muggle diseases; you've got a good range of mishaps and bad luck…' Ollivander let it hang, almost as if implying something but not quite. James wasn't sure he understood and he didn't press the matter.

'Can I look?' Remus asked suddenly, breaking James out of his confusion.

'What?' James asked, frowning.

'The paper…' Remus's eyes fixated on the newspaper in James's hands. He didn't seem to care about the wands so much anymore. 'Can I look at the page you're reading?'

James shrugged and handed it over, noticing Remus hands starting to shake as his eyes skimmed over the fragments of words he probably understood. 'What's wrong?' When Remus didn't answer, James got up to touch him gently on the arm. 'Remus?'

Remus started. 'Nothing,' he shook his head and handed the paper back to James. 'I want to go home now.'

James blinked.

'Your wand's ready, Sir. Eleven inches, Rosewood; the core is a single strand of hair from a silverback werewolf – the rarest and most illegal kind we have.'

Remus was shaking, unable to comprehend anything.

He was too dumbstruck to move from where he was sitting on the floor, surrounded by newspapers dating back all the way to the time of war. Sirius's library had an archive of old newspapers, but it had taken Remus ages to find the right ones. The ones that he spent hours staring at, trying to match each word and each letter to the writings on the wall. They finally made sense. After weeks of staring and looking and trying to force the familiarity of speech, he finally figured out what the etchings on the wall meant.

They were names scratched out in hatred.

Names of Purebloods Ollivander had mentioned, ruined, killed and possessed to hell and back. Remus could read them clearly now; every single name of every single Death Eater. Some of them were repeated; like a mantra that kept resonating again and again until it stuck. Until all you could see were those names swimming in front of your eyes, unable to tell which were the real etchings and which were reflections of repetitions.

There were some that were brand new. Remus could tell by the sharp scent of new magic – the kind that had yet to fizzle and turn stale.

'So you know now. You really are quite the sharp one, aren't you?'

Remus turned to face Sirius in the doorway. He should have cleaned up. Remus should have moved away all this mess before Sirius came home, but a part of him wanted to confront Sirius. Wanted Sirius to explain these names and layers of hatred that built upon them; wanted to understand. More so, a part of him wanted Sirius to stop ignoring him so that Remus wouldn't have to be wary of every creak of the floorboard and every hum of the wind.

'Do you know who they are? Did you find that out, too?'

Remus nodded and then asked a question he already knew the answer to. 'Did you do this to them?'

'They killed my brother,' Sirius spat, as if it explained everything. It did.

Sirius walked to the wall, brushing past Remus like he was a ghost. His right hand lifted as if in a trance, fingers tracing the grooves of each name. Remus watched as Sirius's eyes shifted from anger to growing madness; his fists clenching over the etchings as if they could punch and beat his revenge just through these walls.

'He has a son,' Sirius whispered, eyes reflecting a single name, 'about Harry's age.' Lucius Malfoy. 'He didn't deserve to live…'

'But you let him,' Remus completed, understanding – finally understanding something. Sirius was cruel, but not always. Sometimes Sirius didn't want to be like this. Sometimes, Sirius wanted to be not-cruel, but being that wasn't always enough. 'And these?' Remus asked softly, running his hands over the newer ones where the dust was yet to collect in the grooves. 'What about them?'

'They killed your family.'

Remus felt as if he'd been suddenly doused in cold water. 'You…'

'They should die…the people who did this should all just fucking die.'

It was Remus's fault. Remus had said this, hadn't he? He had asked and wished for all these people to be killed. When he'd been kneeling in front of what was once his home, all he'd wanted for was revenge; to be given justice for everything that had been cruel about his life. He had wanted their deaths; pleaded for it at that very moment in front of Sirius. Sirius, who Remus hated. Sirius, who Remus hated when he cut him with harsh words and quick throws of violence. Sirius, who Remus hated when he touched him with deft fingers and called out for him again and again when they had sex. Sirius, who Remus hated when he ignored him.

'Are you afraid of me now?' Sirius asked tilting his lips in a bitter smile. His eyes looked frightening where the sunlight hit, making it look more silver than grey – silver that burned Remus's skin.

'No.' Remus was happy. In a sick, twisted sort of way, Remus felt pleased that they were dead. He wanted them dead. 'No, I'm not afraid,' Remus repeated, looking at Sirius in the eye, holding his gaze as he reached out for Sirius. 'I'm not afraid.' Remus moved closer till their noses were brushing and the grey of Sirius's eyes were just a blur of colour. 'I'm not…' He pressed his lips softly against Sirius's, forcing Sirius's lips open with his own while pinning him by the wrists to hold him still. Remus pushed closer, his leg going in between Sirius's leg and brushing against Sirius's growing erection purposefully, in a familiar rhythm. Remus was feeding on the noises Sirius made and the quick catches of his breath every time their tongues collided. Remus was-

Sirius pushed him away roughly. 'You…' he growled. 'Why don't you resist anymore?'

Remus frowned. I don't know, he wanted to say. I don't know. I never know when it's you. I don't know.

'I asked you,' Sirius snarled angrily, grabbing Remus by the shoulder hard. 'Why the fuck won't you fight back?'

Remus's back collided with the wall, every groove of the scratched out names agonisingly pressing an imprint into his sore back. Remus flinched in pain and immediately, Sirius's hands moved away as if burnt. 'Fuck you,' he whispered, cradling his hands against his chest, as he moved away from a confused Remus. 'Fuck you! Don't fuck with me!' Sirius screamed suddenly, his face contorting in resentment and anger. 'Don't fuck with me, you bastard! Do what you're supposed to. Act how you're supposed to. Don't fuck with me.' Sirius punched the wall hard enough to send a crack down the weakening plaster. 'Fuck you, Remus!' He rotated his fists deeper into the wall, widening the crack in vengeance. 'Damn it.'

Sirius spared one distrustful glance at Remus before storming out.

Remus was left standing there in Regulus's room. The room that had long lost its owner, but accumulated years of anguish. It had held Sirius's vengeance for all these years, and now Remus realized with a sick feeling, it also held his. He was becoming a part of this room and a bigger part of this house. He was becoming yet another part of the Black madness that suffocated the very air that you breathed in this house. And suddenly, Remus was afraid.

Two hours past midnight, when Sirius had still not unlocked his door or come out of his room, Remus left for James's house. He had a feeling that James would probably be unable to help him, because Remus himself didn't know what he wanted. All he knew was that he didn't understand anything anymore, and the more blurred the edges of his sanity and awareness got, the harder his fear gripped him. Remus was very, very afraid.

James fidgeted with his hands unsurely, before taking a deep breath and opening the door to Sirius's office. 'Sirius, I need to talk to you.' He hesitated a little, eyes shifting from the burning fire in the room to the way Sirius's eyes scrutinised him carefully, probably taking in James's shiftiness and reluctance to be here. 'It's important,' he stressed, coming in and closing the door behind him with one last look outside, just to make sure. 'It isn't about work.'

'No?' Sirius asked, though it was quite obvious that he already knew. He moved his chair so that he was now face to face with James, chin resting on his hands and looking slightly disinterested.

'No,' James repeated. 'Look, Sirius, I should have had this talk with you a lot earlier, but I always stay quiet about…well, everything.' He sighed, and ran a hand through the back of his hair. 'I don't know why I go along with your madness and your will. I wanted to believe that you were the same person I'd gone to school with and played pranks with. I wanted to believe you were…sane. And I-'

'You're wasting my time, Jamie-boy,' Sirius droned.

James smiled bitterly. 'I'm having Remus leave.' A sort of stony silence followed James's declaration and James was honestly surprised to not have received a more violent reaction. Perhaps Remus had been right; Sirius was quickly getting bored of him. 'If you want to ruin your life, that's fine, but I'm not going to stand here and watch you destroy-'

James's words were knocked out of him as his back slammed hard against the wall, his head back lashing in tandem. Stars danced in front of his eyes and blearily, all he could make out was Sirius's face held back in an animalistic snarl.

'I'll kill you!' He growled, pinning James tightly against the wall. 'Another word and I'll kill you!'

'Go ahead,' James spat back, suddenly feeling all the years of anger he'd bottled up bubble forth. 'You've fucked up plenty, so why spare me, right?' He struggled against Sirius's tight hold on his forearms. 'No matter what you do, it's not going to change the fact that Remus is going to leave Grimmauld Place, sooner rather than later.'

Sirius's eyes bulged, the vein on his forehead throbbing dangerously. 'He's mine!' He screamed, suddenly grabbing James by the throat. 'He does what I want! He stays where I want! I am his world! Without me,' Sirius's grip tightened and James could feel Sirius's fingers digging painfully into his jugular. 'Without me, he would be nothing. He's mine! So don't fucking tell me what to do with him! I'll do whatever the hell I please! He'smine!'

Mad spittle flew across James's face and he could feel Sirius's madness through his fingers. Sirius was losing it; James realised. Sirius was very quickly losing it and if it wasn't for James's persistent fingers loosening Sirius's grip on his throat, James would die. James would definitely die – Sirius meant it. And just that realisation made James's blood boil. Was that it? All those years James had looked after him, taken care of him, tried and tried and tried to bring him back to what he used to be: did it all just end at that point where Sirius was willing to take James's life in a snap moment of madness. What had James been doing all these years? Why was it that Remus, who meant nothing; who knew nothing, was able to affect Sirius more than James? Why was it that Remus was the only person who could look past Sirius's cruelty and insanity, and bring forth a person James didn't even recognise? Why Remus? Why the fuck was it always Remus? And within all this, who was James?

'He hates you!' James found himself saying impulsively. He didn't mean to. In his head, there was a part of him that was pleading for him to stop; to just shut up before thing blew up in his face. But his mouth was running ahead of him and his annoyance clouding his judgment. 'Do you think I make it a fucking habit of saving all your victims?' He looked back defiantly at Sirius, watching as grey eyes blinked back in anger and shock. 'Remus asked this of me and you can fucking kill me at this point, but I'll help him, just to fucking spite you and break this bloody cycle of madness. Get it in your fucking head that he's going to lea-ugh!' James bowled over from sudden punch to his stomach, shocked when he felt the tangy taste of blood in his mouth.

'I'll kill you!' Sirius cried, an unexpected panic in his eyes. 'I'll kill you! I'll kill you! If you even touch a hair on his head, I'll kill you!' Sirius's face was turning steadily red now, his whole body shaking as if he'd been kept in ice cold water. 'He's mine. You can't do this to me, James. You can't do this. He's mine.'

James watched horrified as Sirius's whole body grew weak, his knees trembling until they gave away and he fell to James's feet. He was groveling, James realised, too scared now to even move. Sirius's breaths were coming out in short gasps, his body slowly curling in on itself until his forehead was touching the floor, his nose pressing into the cold marble. He was now pleading a mantra of, 'He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine.'

James couldn't move. 'Sirius, stop it.'

'He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine.'

'Sirius, stop it. Get up. You look ridiculous.'

'He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine.'

'Sirius!'

'HE'S MINE!' Sirius screamed breaking into a coughing fit, eyes shut and body tense before he laxed completely. Sirius didn't move after that, but there were tremors still running through his body, making his fingers jerk slightly.

Numb, James kneeled down beside him, gingerly touching Sirius's side and realising that Sirius had fallen unconscious. James felt sick. Sick and angry, but mostly so, so very sick. Sickened by what things had come to for him and Sirius, and sick of having to play mediator between Sirius and Remus's game of chess and manipulation. He looked towards the door and wasn't at all surprised to see it ajar, Remus standing behind it and partially visible. His face was an unreadable mask.

'Don't make me do this again,' James found his voice breaking and he quickly covered his eyes in fear that they would betray him. 'Don't ever fucking make me do this again.'

'I needed to be sure,' Remus replied, almost sounding apologetic.

'Will you really leave?'

'Yes.'

For some reason, the 'yes' sounded louder than it ought to, almost as if Remus had yelled it over a Sonorus. It reverberated and pounded against his ear drums like a painful echo, until James realised the pain was not in his ears but somewhere around his chest. He didn't want this. James realised he wanted this, but he didn't want this. 'It will kill him,' James sounded his thought aloud, unable to even look at Sirius or even Remus. Hadn't James been pushing for this? From the very beginning, James had wanted this to an extent that was almost devious. 'Please, it will kill him.'

'I know,' Remus said softly and then added, almost as if as an afterthought, 'Sorry.'

It was cold and warm at the same time. Cold where there was wind hitting his face vengefully and where his bent knees and sprawled legs pressed against the wet grass. And warm where he could feel two arms underneath him, supporting him just barely. Warm also where another chest pressed against him, heart beating at a familiar pace. Seventy-two, seventy-three, seventy-four, seventy-five; Sirius counted. Seventy-five: slightly faster than the human heart rate to compensate for increased muscle power and strength. The body of a werewolf was truly beautiful. Sirius would know; he had felt it deep inside of him, over him, under him, embracing him so strongly that sometimes Sirius wished it would break his bones just a little.

'Leave,' Sirius whispered, not wanting to open his eyes; not wanting to find out where he was or what he was doing. He remembered being in the office; he remembered James's harsh words and severe truth. He remembered realising that this was exactly what he'd wanted. He had wanted Remus to kill him, hadn't he? That had been Remus's sole purpose of existence. Sirius's purpose had been to push Remus to it; yet, despite all of it, Sirius hadn't expected to also die inside.

'Before that,' Sirius felt Remus fidget, 'I want to ask why? What do you really want from me?'

'I want you to leave,' Sirius whispered, turning his face and realising that he could bury it into Remus's shoulder to protect from the wind that was steadily hitting his face. It wasn't that cold though, he thought. The wind was slowly growing warmer. 'If you leave, then I'll get everything I ever wanted…' and nothing at all, was what Sirius didn't add. 'Leave before I kill you.'

'You won't kill me.'

Sirius hated how confident he sounded; how Remus knew that Sirius was incapable of hurting him anymore. It felt disgusting; both Remus's knowledge and the feeling of sickness that clogged his throat every time Remus's hurt face flashed before his eyes. 'If I need to, I'll kill you. I no longer have any use for you.' Sirius wondered how cruel he sounded to Remus's ears. Would it wound Remus the way his parent's deaths had that day? Sirius kept his eyes closed, inhaling the smell of stale, polluted air to distract himself. Where were they?

'What did you want from me?'

'What did I want?' Sirius laughed, pressing his eyes into Remus's shoulder. It was so stupid; why was he seeking Remus's skin when all he wanted was for the bastard to leave so that he could be in peaceful turmoil all over again. 'What I wanted was for you to break.' Sirius's hands fisted into Remus's robes. 'I wanted you to crumble down to my level; live in disgrace and understand how no amount of revenge could get rid of your complete lack of power and the disgust you feel inside.' Sirius coughed again, suddenly feeling very suffocated and dizzy. 'I wanted you to take pity on my pathetic, meaningless existence and destroy it.'

Whatever Sirius expected Remus to say, never came. Sirius had wanted Remus to lash out one last time; to resist him just a little more. Just a little.

'I was happy,' Remus said finally, and Sirius could hear his heartbeat quickening slightly from nervousness. Seventy Six, Seventy Seven, Seventy Eight. 'When I saw those names…I was happy.'

Sirius wasn't sure what Remus meant by that. Perhaps Remus felt vengeance was not as underrated as Sirius made it out to be, or that Sirius had failed to crush him despite everything he'd done. Or was it just as simple as the words that poured out of his mouth – that Remus had been happy over the deaths of his perpetrators. Somehow, just the thought that he had somehow pleased Remus pleased Sirius. It was odd.

Sirius wondered why Remus was still here with him; prolonging the inevitable. The weather seemed to be changing, getting thicker and heavier. Would it be raining? Sirius wondered where he would find amber eyes again. He wondered if he looked one last time, just a little, at Remus's face; would that mean that he wasn't quite done yet. That he hadn't served justice to Regulus; hadn't been a good brother to James or a Godfather to Harry. Sirius didn't want to open his eyes; not yet. Not until he was sure Remus had left.

'Why me?'

Sirius took a sharp breath. 'I already answered that question.'

'No, you didn't,' Remus replied and Sirius could hear his voice hardening. 'Why did you choose to take me? There were two others that day. I was the weakest; the one that was going to die anyway. So why me?'

'I don't know.' It was a lie. Sirius did know. He knew back then and he knew, more than ever, now. He knew it was because I wanted you. And then suddenly, he felt very, very vulnerable and weak. More weak than he'd felt all these years and a lot more desperate for the feel of Remus's pale skin and the prickly crop of growing hair. 'Will you really leave?'

'I hate this house,' Remus replied, as if it was a good enough reason.

Somehow it was. 'There's no escaping it.' Sirius would know. Sirius had been trapped by it from the day he was born. The house that had Regulus, his Mother, his childhood; everything he'd worked to destroy and everything he'd tried to preserve through vengeance. This house was all Sirius had and would ever have.

'I hate this house,' Remus repeated, 'but I don't hate you.'

He had even failed to achieve that; Sirius was truly pathetic. 'You do hate me,' Sirius tried, wondering if there was any other way Remus thought of him. He wondered how else to occupy and monopolise Remus's thoughts. What would it take?

'I don't understand you.'

Sirius couldn't help the peals of laughter that bubbled inside him and burst out. 'Me neither,' he sniggered into Remus's chest uncontrollably. 'Me fucking neither.' And then he couldn't stop. Maybe it was the smell of the air – putrid and carbonated – that made him high. Maybe it was the fact that there were worse ways to die that being stabbed in the back or jabbed with a wand. Or maybe Sirius was just as James claimed: insane.

'I want you to leave…with me.'

Sirius stopped laughing.

'Will you? I want…..'

Whatever Remus wanted to say was lost in a shrill, high pitched scream that caused Sirius to shoot up in fright. Almost immediately, Remus's arms tightened around him, pulling him into a deadlock that stopped him from going anywhere. Sirius knew that scream – had practiced zoning it out for half his life and yearned for it another half. Sirius knew that scream, and this time, even before Remus could shield his eyes, Sirius slapped it away. He finally knew where they were.

Grimmauld Place was burning.

'NO!' Sirius screamed, trying to move; trying to get out, but Remus was holding him tight. 'NO! NO! NO! Let me go, you bastard! LET ME GO!' Sirius struggled again, trying to free his hands; kicking and screaming, wondering what spell would douse a fire this big. How long had it been going on for? Why hadn't he noticed it this entire time? The smell; the noxious clouds of smoke rising above the house and blanketing the sun. 'LET ME GO! Remus, please…please…oh God, please…!' Mother screamed again, sounding as if in true agony, and this time, Sirius felt tears pooling in his eyes. Regulus was in there, too. Mother and Regulus, both; only Regulus couldn't scream because he was dead. 'Please…please…please…'

'Leave with me,' Remus said gruffly, holding Sirius tightly against his chest, locking Sirius's feet with his own so that Sirius couldn't even kick anymore. 'James says…I'm in love with you.'

Sirius stopped struggling. Liar.

Remus wiped Sirius's cheeks roughly with the palm of his hand, before grabbing him by the chin and forcing Sirius to look into his eyes. Amber eyes that Sirius had wanted the minute he'd laid eyes on them; eyes that he'd drowned himself in when his mind felt like it was on a madhouse carousel; eyes that were now boring into him and forcing him to believe that he existed. He was here. He was here. Sirius was still here. Remus covered Sirius's eyes again, blocking out Grimmauld Place, the light, and everything else, but the touch of his hands. 'Leave with me,' Remus whispered again, this time, forcefully.

Leave and go where? Sirius didn't care anymore; he didn't have a choice. Mother had stopped screaming. He had nowhere else to go and no one else who wanted him. Numbly, he nodded.

Remus's hands slipped away from Sirius's eyes, but he kept his lock on Sirius's body so that they were sitting chest to back; Sirius's feet trapped between Remus's and Remus's arms tightly crossed around his chest. Sirius was being forced to watch Grimmauld Place burn to the ground until all that remained were ashes.

Remus smiled and rested his chin on Sirius's shoulder. 'You're mine.'

How creepy am I?

What happened to Kreacher? I honestly don't know. I think Remus killed him, too. :-o I'm not crazy though…honest!

Now to the lovely anonymous reviewer who waited patiently for this entire time:

The reviewer with no name: I think I do need help…a little. Honestly, at times, all I can do is cute and then I do this. Don't report me. I'm too young to go to a mental asylum. T_T