Author's Notes: Written at the request of my FF.net reviewer JKLB, who so kindly read my stories and inspired me to write this companion piece. Although you don't have to read the original Tell Me What You Want to understand this, it might help...plus I like that one better. I'm pleased with this one too, however.

October 30, 1980

The long day at the Aurors' headquarters, the tension in my neck and shoulders, the nervous relief at hearing that two of our own had narrowly escaped a Death Eater raid - they all melted away as I reached the door of the flat I shared with him and murmured the series of unlocking spells, undid the wards. I opened the door slowly, thinking to surprise him at reading or studying something, only to be pounced upon as soon as I stepped through the door.

He kissed me swiftly on my lips, our usual tradition - there were always kisses hello and kisses goodbye, and a good many kisses in between as well - and announced, "Guess what? Lily and James want us to come see Harry tonight!"

"Really?" I asked. I knew that my whole face must have lit up at the mention of going to see my - our - positively adorable godson. "What time?" I prompted.

"Whenever we get over there, they said they'd have their fireplace up all evening."

"Excellent," I replied, and finally got my arms around him. Never mind removing my coat or stepping into the actual flat, away from the door. Just let me get my arms around my Remus and everything would be fine about this otherwise screwed-up world.

At the moment, however, my paragon of strength and calm self-restraint was hopping about like some child who'd eaten an ungodly combination of all the candy in Honeyduke's. I knew he was thrilled about going to see Harry. James and Lily had teased that I was going to be like another son when I played with Harry, but, surprisingly, Remus had proven to be the one who seemed the most taken with Harry. Not that all five of us didn't absolutely adore that child anyway - it was just that Remus, out of all of us, seemed fascinated by the baby.

I placed a firm kiss on his lips, which got him to hold still a bit, even if he was still wriggling in my embrace. "You're not even going to let me kiss you properly, are you?" I laughed, letting him loose and reaching down to retrieve the briefcase I'd dropped when I'd held him. "All day at the Ministry I was thinking of you while I was talking to those wankers, and I come home and all you want to do is go see that baby. Remus," I pretended to scold, "what am I going to do with you?"

"Mm." He cocked one eyebrow suggestively, batting sinfully long eyelashes at me, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. "I can think of a few things."

I grinned, that grin I knew he loved so well - the one he'd described as saying, 'I'm a total prat and I don't care, because I love you.' It was simply that Remus made me do such foolish things sometimes, because when I was around him I couldn't seem to think very clearly.

The briefcase hit the floor again, and I reached for him, my arms oustretched. But instead of leaning into my arms and linking his hands behind my neck, kissing me like he usually did, he turned around and placed his back to my chest, crossing his arms. I leaned my chin on his left shoulder and wrapped my arms around him from behind, straining to reach his lips. He turned his head so our noses touched, but refused to let me kiss him. "You're wicked," I proclaimed, so he turned his head away from me again.

I was glad to see him in such a playful mood. With the close calls we'd been having at work lately, the long hours everyone was putting in to combat the Death Eaters' forces, and the general terror that seemed to have descended upon the wizarding world, light-hearted times were few and far between. Harry's birth had been a blessing to all of us, and the joy he'd brought into our lives had made all the difference.

However, I decided that visiting Harry could wait for a moment while I played Remus's little game. I pressed my lips to the soft skin of his neck, brushing tawny-brown hair out of the way. One, two, three kisses - then I playfully set my teeth at the nape of his neck. He sighed and squirmed against me, though this time from a different sort of excitement. "Sirius..." he sighed.

"A wicked tease," I murmured. As if that wasn't the pot calling the kettle black. I kissed his neck one more time.

"Oh, look who's talking." Remus echoed my thoughts in a mutter, and finally turned to kiss me. His warm mouth opened to mine, and we stood in the doorway, happily kissing, until I was satisfied that I'd been well-kissed hello and could change my shirt. I gave Remus a little squeeze, then retrieved the briefcase once more and began to walk back to our bedroom.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked, following me like a curious child.

"Changing my shirt," I replied, swinging the closet door open and staring at my clothes, which Remus had neatly arranged on hangers. "If Harry's going to spit up again, I don't want it to be on this shirt." I indicated the one I was wearing, one of my favorites. It was soft and elegant, with long sleeves, and the color of black that exactly matched my hair. Remus always claimed that black wasn't hard to match, but I knew he was secretly pleased that I loved the shirt so well - it had been a gift from him. That was part of why it was so perfect on me, I imagined.

Nothing in the closet struck my fancy, so I turned away from it and pulled open one of the dresser drawers, rummaging through. Finally I found what I was looking for, an older deep red t-shirt, and I pulled it out to carry it into the bathroom with me.

I stood in front of the mirror, stripping off the black shirt and draping it over the towel rack. Then I raised the red one, but before I put it on I sensed Remus's eyes on me. Glancing over at him, I saw him openly staring at me, watching with that adoring half-smile quirked upon his lips, and I winked at him. "See something you like?" I teased.

He blushed. Gods, but he was gorgeous. He lowered long lashes over his beautiful amber eyes, watching the floor demurely even as the blood flooded his cheeks with color. Even though he would argue it til the day he died, I'd always thought Remus was - well, beautiful. Not handsome, in some brutish, masculine sense, but lovely and ethereal and mystically beautiful, with his slender build and expressive features.

Still blushing, he nodded, then looked up and smiled at me out of sheer joy. Remus loved me, so everything was right with the world.

I grinned again, and pulled the red shirt over my head. Straightening it with one hand, I reached for my comb with the other, and began to brush my hair. My favorite part of my body, certainly - or one of my favorite parts, anyway. The straight black strands were growing out again, reaching my chin now, but it wasn't as long as I preferred it.

Meanwhile, Remus was still hanging onto the doorframe, waiting with uncharacteristic impatience. I knew how badly he wanted to go see Harry that night - I did as well.

It was something amazing, to see the change in our Marauders after Harry was born. Lily and James as parents to this perfect little child - that was astounding in itself. But to hold the little life in my own hands - to watch the strange glow that came over Remus every time he was with the baby - that was miraculous, to me. I knew I would never fully understand Remus's emotions when it came to Harry, but then, I didn't fully understand my own, and certainly didn't understand Lily's or James's. It was something strange and beautiful and magical and perfect.

Coming out of my reverie, satisfied that my hair was in place, I looked over at Remus again. He was wearing a dreamlike half-smile, watching me but not really seeing me, thinking of something else altogether. The look suited him well - in our school days he had been forever dreaming, often lost in his own world, which he claimed was a product of his childhood isolation. We did our best to draw him out of that seclusion; but the times he'd told me what he was dreaming of, my heart had nearly broken for the beauty of it. Remus had a poet's soul and eyes, and the look suited him well.

"I like that smile," I said softly, and he seemed to remember where he was. "What are you thinking about?"

"Harry," he confessed.

I tilted my head - James claimed I looked like Padfoot when I did that, but it was habit for me. "You really love him, don't you?" I asked, grasping once more the extent of Remus's emotions.

"Yes, I do." He didn't even have to answer - I could tell by the look in his eyes.

I was suddenly struck by the thought that Remus would make a very good parent one day. Not at this moment, perhaps - after what I saw in the field, I couldn't imagine bringing a child into this hellish world yet - but one day. He was calm, and patient, and kind; blessed with an inherent understanding of and compassion for others, and a gentle nature. He should have been a teacher, or a child therapist, or a father - children instinctively flocked to him.

"Remus? Do you want kids?" I suddenly asked.

If I was surprised that I had asked that question, Remus wasn't. We'd talked about kids before, but only in a very vague, unspecific manner. He didn't hesitate to reply, "Well...yes, maybe. One day. Certainly not now."

That wasn't the answer I wanted - I wanted to know the truth. "No, I'm not joking. Do you want kids?"

He looked at me with the most hopeful, adoring expression in his eyes, and I was struck by the fact that here was the boy who'd come to Hogwarts believing he was unworthy of any form of affection or love, the boy who'd become a full-fledged Marauder like the rest of us and had led pranking expeditions as many times as James or myself - and he was suddenly grown into a man who cared for me in a way no one else ever had, who put his work before himself daily for the Order of the Phoenix, and who was now very seriously considering becoming a parent. It took my breath away.

"Yes," he answered, and I knew he was telling the truth. "One day."

I dropped the comb and approached him, taking him in my arms; I looked into the eyes I loved so well and smiled softly. Did he know that I would give him the sun, moon, and stars if he asked for it? "Tell me what you want, Remus. Say the word and it's yours." I kissed his soft mouth gently, brushing my lips against his, then whispered again, "Tell me what you want. You can have anything..."

He leaned his forehead against mine so our faces were touching. "I want you, Sirius. I love you."

Every time I heard those words, I had to catch my breath and realize that yes, something that wonderful was actually true. Remus Lupin loved me. "I love you, Remus..."

And several kisses and several minutes later, we were in the fireplace, holding hands, on our way to see the Potters. Life was so beautiful, it made my heart ache.

~

October 30, 1981

I felt the anxiety grow as I murmured the unlocking spells and undid the wards to the door of our flat. It used to be that I was afraid to leave home sometimes, because things at work were so readily going to hell; not anymore. Now, I was afraid to come home, because I was in just as much danger there as at work, if not more.

Remus knew I was upset with him, somehow. Didn't know why, of course - well, he knew why, but neither of us acknowledged it. We couldn't. Because if we had, we couldn't have lied to each other forever, and eventually we would have had to admit the ugly truth - that Remus was a Death Eater.

I knew people in the Order would suspect him simply because he was a werewolf, a Dark Creature, but it was Peter who really pointed it out to me. All the obvious signs. He'd said it once, then hadn't said anything else, but that one encounter had taken over my entire life, and now I didn't eat, didn't breathe, didn't sleep without wondering if it was Remus. Without thinking that it was Remus.

It was late, I know, too late for me to shrug off his concern with excuses that I'd been at work. I didn't keep office hours or anything, but I generally worked the day shift, and no day shift got off at 2 a.m. I couldn't come home. Home was Remus. Home was Remus's questioning eyes, frowning mouth, rolled down shirtsleeves covering the spot on his left forearm where the Dark Mark would have been. I could have stayed awake at night and checked him for it, of course - I could have made him show me. But I didn't want to see, I didn't want to know, I just wanted to forget about it all.

But I couldn't, of course. Not if I was going to protect Lily and James. If Remus could sell himself to the Death Eaters, then surely he could sell me, or Peter, or Lily, or James, or even precious Harry. He had the power to do that to any of us. That was why I'd made Lily and James choose Peter as Secret-Keeper. We wanted everyone to think it was me - I wanted Remus to kill me, if it came down to it, or torture me for the information rather than anyone else. Because if I wasn't Secret-Keeper, he could do whatever he wanted, and I'd never be able to tell. I would give my life for the Potters. And it was looking likely that I would.

Some nights, I went to Lily and James's, or on rare occasions Peter's. Some nights I went out drinking. Some nights I just went out and sat in the freezing autumn air and stared into the distance, asking myself over and over how it was Remus. Why hadn't I seen it? When had it happened? Had he been it all along, or had it happened and I hadn't been there? Why?

I never answered those questions. I never could. I would just end up dragging my tired body home in the middle of the night, tiptoeing into the flat, peeling off my clothes, and lying beside Remus in our bed. That was nearly the only time I saw him each day - when he was pretending to be asleep. We didn't talk, we didn't kiss, we didn't make love - every night we slept like strangers in our bed. There was no reason it wouldn't be the same tonight.

But when I opened the door, hesitantly walking inside, feeling sick to my stomach just knowing I was in the same flat as a Death Eater, and when I crossed through the living room, I realized he was awake.. I could see him in the armchair, sitting up stiffly, his arms crossed over his chest, his pajamas hanging on his thin frame.

"Where have you been?" he asked, his voice cool.

What was I supposed to say? That I was avoiding him so I could delay my death a little longer? I just sighed and walked past him, into the bedroom. I heard him get up and follow me; I steeled myself for the curse in the back that I knew was coming one of these days.

Instead of a curse, he spoke again. "Well?"

I stripped off my pants, began peeling off my shirt. I dropped them in a corner of the room and crawled into bed, lying on my stomach beneath the duvet, my face buried in the pillow. 'Let him leave me alone,' I prayed, 'just tonight. Let me be. Go to sleep. Don't kill me yet.' Instead, I muttered, "Remus, I'm tired," hoping to put him off.

"That could be because it's 2:30 in the morning," he countered sharply, and I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. If he was angry, was he going to do it tonight?

"I'm sorry," I replied reflexively, but we both knew that I was nothing of the sort. I just thought maybe he'd let it go for the night, and we could kill each other some other time.

"Where have you been?" he asked, with obviously no intention of letting things go any longer. His voice was hard but - desperate. Remus Lupin did not beg, but what was this now? Some trick? I remained silent. I think I was silent just to punish him, as well...if he could betray us by joining them, then I could betray him with silence. I could do something to get back at him. I felt him sit down next to me on the bed, waiting for my response. "Sirius, answer me."

Turning my head to look at the wall, I sighed. I was bloody tired, I was upset, I couldn't take him questioning me. I was bloody afraid to come home, to my former lover. "It sounds like you already know where I've been."

"Then why can't you say it?"

Silence.

"Answer me, Sirius."

I kept my mouth shut.

"Answer me!" He was begging. "Tell me you were with someone else, tell me you were working late, tell me you were drinking, say something! Say something!"

The shrill pitch of his voice and the desperation in his words scared me more than the possibility of him killing me. I jumped and turned over all in one swift motion, facing the man I had loved. "Tell me what you want, Remus!" I exclaimed. "Well? What do you want me to say?"

We looked at each other, our faces desperate in the dim light of the bedroom. And I found my gaze straying to his left forearm, looking for the Dark Mark, but it was too dark to see anything - and I looked up at his face, and he had seen me looking.

Then our eyes met, and I wondered how we had come to this. How had we arrived at this not speaking, trying to search covertly for the Dark Mark on each other's arms? How had we come to this?

"Tell me what you want, Remus," I said again, weakly, hoping my words would trigger some murderous response. I looked to him, and the distance between us on the bed seemed to wide to breach.

I felt my heart breaking within me as I spoke. I had never hurt like this before - not when classmates' parents had died, not when I'd betrayed Remus to Snape, not when my own mother had died. I wanted him to tell me that Peter's suspicious whispers had been a lie, a hoax; that Remus was as true and loyal as he had ever been; that these last months of silence and doubts had all been a bad dream.

Instead of answering me, he broke down in tears. Remus, who never begged, never cried, Remus the Death Eater, had tears streaming down his beautiful, traitorous face. "I want the old us back, Sirius," he whimpered. "I want the way we used to be."

I knew my folly within that moment; because no matter how much I hated him, I would always love him as well. I would always feel the need to protect him, the desire to be with him, the urge to wipe the tears from his face and the pain from his heart. Sirius Black, Auror, in love with a Death Eater. And I did love him. I felt tears roll down my face as well as I replied softly, "Me too, Re. Me too."

I timidly put my hand on his shoulder, and then we slowly leaned into each other's arms and sobbed. It was not tender like it used to be, it was not romantic, it was not sweet - it was faint and bitter and ugly, a final embrace in the end of a romance. The end.

We stayed like that for the rest of the night, just crying, just holding each other for what we knew was the last time. He would not wait up for me at nights any longer. I would not transform with him at the full moon. We knew this was the end of everything.

But I'd thought it was the end of everything between us, not everything in the entire world, as it actually proved to be. The next night was the night that I realized my true folly - in not trusting Remus. I loved him, so why couldn't I fucking trust him? He was my mate, and I believed that rat Peter over him. And it cost me everything - James, Lily, Remus, my whole fucking life.

My whole fucking life - it was reduced to nothing, to shadows and dirt and filth and screams. To nothingness. I knew there had been better times, somewhere - I knew they existed, and I knew I had been there. But those memories were not within me. They were gone. And somewhere inside, I wished that Peter had killed me as well, that I'd died on that street with all those Muggles, because I'd lost everything except my wasting-away body.

I wanted my memories back. Because I knew there was a time when life had been so beautiful, and it made my heart ache.