Chapter Text
“A tough loss for the Lions tonight,” Frank said solemnly as the teams shook hands and began skating to their own sides. “What a game. With almost their whole second line out sick, our boys were fighting hard for all three periods. Captain Sirius Black played a record number of minutes, and for that I think he deserves a few extra kudos. Let’s have a look as they head to the bench.”
The camera zoomed in, bypassing the Ravenclaw players to focus on the Lions as they dragged themselves off the ice. James wobbled with every step; Remus pulled his helmet off and leaned against the wall, eyes closed. Leo barely made it on solid ground before sitting down hard on the bench.
Sirius brought up the rear, his face flushed and hair sticking to his neck. Both hands shook slightly while he got his helmet off. “For those at home, that is the look of someone who left it all in the game,” Lee said with grave respect. “Everyone out there gave it their best. I hope we can see the second line s—oh, hold on, the captain isn’t looking too steady.”
Below, Sirius faltered with his skates still on the ice and braced himself against both sides of the gate. James straightened immediately and tapped Remus on the shoulder as he passed, calling something inaudible—Sirius shook his head and started to move again, but his knees buckled and he collapsed after half a step.
“Oh my god!” Frank said over the noise of shouting and whistles from the stands below. A gasp went up from the fans; Remus was there in a second, kneeling next to Sirius without a trace of his earlier exhaustion. He was pale when he looked up and motioned for a medic. Blood stained two of his fingers. “Alright, everyone, the captain’s down, and it looks like he might have hit his head on the way. We’ve got medics coming over and we’ll be sure to keep you updated—”
White light made his head pound as he cracked an eye open. His mouth was dry, and every limb felt heavy. A papery, unpleasant texture scraped against his fingertips. He grimaced; the smell of antiseptic prickled at his nose. To his left, something was beeping rather loudly.
“Pads?” a quiet, tentative voice asked on his other side. Sirius flinched at the sudden noise before letting out a slow exhale through his nose, squinting as he let his head fall to the side. The corners of his eyes were crusted over from what must have been a long, long nap. Pads. Guess that’s me. “Hey, man, how’re you feeling?”
The walls were an unfortunate beige color, but the blankets covering most of his body were the same pristine white as the ceiling. Sirius hummed and hoped that would be enough of an answer. The voice didn’t sound like either of his parents, after all.
“Can you look at me? You can go back to sleep in a sec, but I want to make sure you’re okay.” Well, that was new. Sirius could count on one hand the number of people that actually cared about him on a daily basis. Something in his heart warmed as he blinked his eyes open a little more. Behind a thick set of glasses, warm brown eyes stared back at him and a dimpled grin eased some of the pounding headache. “There he is.”
“Maman est là?” Sirius mumbled.
“Uh, no,” Glasses snorted. “No, you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Pourqoui?”
His amusement faded by a degree. “Well, none of us really thought you’d want her here,” he answered. Sirius startled into more abrupt consciousness as two hands took one of his own. “Woah, easy, it’s just me.”
Sirius paused. Just me. Hand-holding. A nickname. An itch started in the back of his mind—he was supposed to know this person. “Ouais, sorry,” he managed. Fake it till you make it, Black. Like always. “How long was I out?”
Glasses got a sad look on his face, but he didn’t stop rubbing warmth back into Sirius’ hand. “You’ve been drifting in and out for a couple days. Knocked your head pretty good on the boards on your way down, and ice isn’t…y’know. It’s not hard to get hurt on it. Scared the shit out of us.”
“Sorry.” Us. Ice. Boards. Glasses was a teammate, then. A teammate on…Sirius wracked his foggy memory. Red and gold, red and gold, roaring crowd…Lions. He played for the Lions, and so did Glasses, and so did everyone else he apparently scared half to death when he fell. Got checked? Sirius wasn’t quite sure anymore.
“Sirius?” He jerked back to reality at the sound of Glasses’ voice. “You okay? I lost you for a sec.”
“Ouais, je suis bien.” He shook his head. “I mean, I’m fine.”
“I know enough to translate, don’t worry,” Glasses laughed. Through the haze of confusion, familiarity trickled in. He knew that laugh.
Sirius stared at Glasses as two words rose unbidden to his hazy thoughts, and he couldn’t help a small smile. “Best friend,” he said quietly. There was no name attached, but he knew that much.
Glasses grinned and curled Sirius’ weak fingers into a fist to bump with his own. “Always and forever, man. Thirsty?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, I’ve got you.” Sirius surveyed his face as Glasses turned to the side to pour him some water from the pitcher by his bedside. Square jaw, red cheeks, deep dimples at the corners of his mouth; his eyes crinkled with the force of his suppressed excitement. Sirius had seen that look directed at other people before, and he knew the way Glasses’ hair usually sat. Messy, but not as wild as it was right then. Loose curls usually dropped over his forehead when he looked down at…
Sirius bit the inside of his cheek as the memory slipped away. Glasses was supposed to have something in his arms. Something he loved. Something Sirius adored, too, though it was right out of reach. He let his head fall back on the pillows again with an internal groan of frustration, then froze.
They weren’t alone in the room. Behind Glasses, a more slender figure was curled up in a plastic chair by the wall, asleep. Someone had draped a hospital blanket over him; a backwards baseball cap sat askew on his head, and golden curls stuck out a bit haphazardly along the sides. His eyes were closed and his lips were parted around even breaths. Sirius blinked. He was beautiful, in a heartbreaking way.
The plastic water cup was cool in his hand; Sirius saw a flash of metal on his own ring finger and swallowed down his disappointment. Married. So his mother had won, after all. He wondered if his wife would be offended that he remembered his teammates better than her. Whoever she was, he hoped she would be kind enough to forgive him for it.
Glasses tilted his head to the man in the chair. “Couldn’t get him to go home,” he murmured. “I promise I tried, but I thought he was going to bite my face off when I suggested even going for a walk. He hasn’t left you in two days.”
Two days? Sirius furrowed his brows, taking a slow sip of his water. For me? “Why?”
“You know how he gets,” Glasses said with a light snort. “I wasn’t risking the wrath of Loops unless absolutely necessary. God, he’s gonna flip when he finds out he slept through you waking up.”
‘Loops’. Another teammate, then. That didn’t explain the way Sirius’ heart flip-flopped when he looked at him, though, or why it hurt so bad to see him crumpled up in that tiny chair. Two days was a long time to spend in a hospital room. “Thank you.” It took more effort than he expected to pull his gaze away. “For staying with me, and for being here.”
“Christ, Sirius, of course I did,” Glasses half-laughed. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and he sniffed them back, squeezing Sirius’ hand gently. “You scared me. You weren’t—we were so fucking tired and then you just dropped and people were calling for medics before I could even get my head on straight.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, no, don’t—” He broke off and swallowed hard with another sniffle. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake right now. Everyone’s going to be so jealous I got to talk to you first.”
“Best friend privilege,” Sirius joked, earning himself a smile.
“Lily sends her love, by the way.” A wry smile pulled at the corner of Glasses’ mouth when Sirius lifted his left hand in a silent question. Lily, then, he thought. Lily’s a nice name. Best-friend-approved, too. “She’s barely stopped texting me since she left to go put Harry down for his nap.”
Sirius choked on his water with how fast his heart dropped, dissolving into a coughing fit. Not only did he have a wife, he had a whole child that he didn’t even remember the face of. What kind of horrible father did that make him? “That’s important,” he said lamely once his breath returned. “I’m glad they’re getting some rest.”
Glasses watched him for a moment, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Sirius figured they must be pretty close if this guy didn’t make him feel like a bug under a microscope. “I’m going to get the nurse, okay? Hang tight and try to stay awake. It’ll just take a minute.”
He patted Sirius’ hand one more time before he stood, swiping his sleeve under his nose. His footsteps were quiet; the door closed with a snick behind him. Sirius sighed through his nose and leaned back against the crinkly sheets to get his bearings.
Location? Hospital.
Time? He bit his lip and glanced around until he found a clock close enough to read if he squinted. Three pm.
Systems check? A quick flex of his fingers and toes told him that everything was in order. Everything, it seemed, except his head. A faint throbbing had started near his temple.
People? Sirius paused. Glasses had confirmed they were best friends. The nurse would be here soon. That left…
He glanced back to Loops, still snoozing away. A peaceful quiet settled over the room and Sirius exhaled—it was just them, now. He could let himself look for a few seconds longer. The sound of slow, even breathing among the beeping and muffled voices outside comforted him more than he cared to admit.
He wasn’t allowed to take comfort in the sleepy twitches of a teammate’s face or how soft his hair looked. He shouldn’t be aching to know what Loops’ heartbeat sounded like right then, and he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about the undeniable beauty on that face despite the faint lines striping one cheek from sleeping on his forearms. He shouldn’t wonder how warm Loops’ shoulders were under that well-loved Wisconsin hoodie, how his freckled arms would feel holding Sirius close.
But he did, all the same.
“—go home,” Loops murmured in his sleep, readjusting so one foot brushed the ground. “Gonna go home, feed the cat.”
“What’s your cat’s name?” Sirius asked, smiling to himself. Loops snuffled and said something too quiet for Sirius to hear. Quiet fell again before Sirius gathered his courage. “What’s your name?”
But Loops stayed asleep, and the door opened two heartbeats later. Sirius tried not to let his disappointment show on his face. “The nurse told us to just keep an eye on you,” Glasses said as he propped the door open with one foot and balanced a fruit cup in the other. He cast a look at Loops and the corner of his mouth turned down for half a second. “And as long as you’re not, y’know, puking your guts out we should be fine to just chat until your next checkup. Oh, and I figured some dad wisdom might be in order, so I brought him too.”
All the soppy affection in Sirius’ heart evaporated into burning steam. His ribcage seized up and he clenched his fists in the sheets while he tried to control his breathing. Show no fear. His mother might be at home, but Glasses had said nothing about his father and he had been too stupid to ask—
It wasn’t Orion Black that walked through the door. There were no cold, angry eyes pinning Sirius in place, no silent judgement. Instead, a broad-shouldered man crossed the room and gently pushed Sirius’ hair off his forehead, then pressed a kiss to the top of his head. A kiss. “Oh, mon fils,” the man sighed as he took the vacant chair; his expression held equal measures of worry and relief. “I am so glad you’re alright.”
My son. Sirius just stared at him, dumbstruck, frozen, his heart stuttering. This man was not his father. Sirius could not remember a single thing about him, and yet even the way he moved was familiar. He knew the feeling of this man’s hand on his shoulder—steady and solid—and the way he laughed—deep and booming—and…and he didn’t really know what to do with that.
I’m supposed to know you, he thought as he watched concern creep into laugh lines. You love me, and I don’t even know your name. Sirius took a shuddering breath. His head hurt so fucking bad; all he wanted was to go curl up at home in his bed with—with somebody, someone whose name and face were just out of reach but whose absence sat hollow in his stomach. Something warm dripped down his cheek.
The man frowned, swiping the stray tear away with a gentle thumb. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” Sirius managed. His head pounded even harder from keeping down his tears.
It took few seconds, but realization dawned on the man’s face. Sirius couldn’t bring himself to move away when he reached out and dried another tear with a sad smile. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”
Sirius’ throat constricted and he slowly shook his head.
“I’m sorry, what?” he heard Glasses say.
The older man closed his eyes. “They told us there was a five percent chance—”
“He was talking to me two minutes ago—”
“I’m so sorry,” Sirius forced out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—you were so nice, and I didn’t have anyone else here, and you said you waited for me and I didn’t want to be rude—”
“You knew I was your best friend,” Glasses whispered.
Sirius fumbled to grab his hand where it hung limp by his side. “I do,” he insisted as desperation bubbled up in place of the gaping ache in his heart. “I know that I know you, it’s just—your name? There are some pieces missing, like a puzzle, and I don’t know how I got here, please don’t be upset—”
“Sirius,” the older man soothed. “Sirius, c’est bon.”
“Désolé.” A fine tremor was starting in his stomach and branching into his arms. “Désolé, s’il te plait ne pars pas.”
“We’re not leaving, don’t worry.”
A soft noise came from the corner and Glasses went white as a ghost. “Oh, shit,” he breathed.
“ ‘s going on?” Loops mumbled, grimacing as he stretched his legs out and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Did I miss the doc—”
The whole world paused when Sirius met his eyes. Loops went statue-still. “Bonjour,” Sirius said.
“Oh my god.” That pretty face crumpled and then Loops was next to him in three stumbling strides, his hands cupping Sirius’ face. “Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. How long have you been up?”
“About ten minutes,” Glasses said hollowly. “Re—”
“And none of you said anything?” His words were accusatory, but there was nothing but joy in his expression. Sirius was too stunned to even move. Dark circles were stamped beneath Loops’ eyes and Sirius saw worry flicker over his expression. “Hey, why were you crying, baby?”
Baby.
A riptide of terror dragged Sirius under and stole his breath. The warm palms cradling his jaw with so much tenderness and genuine concern turned into a burning brand. He jerked back from the touch, planted his hands on Loops’ chest, and shoved.
“What the fuck.” His voice shook and every breath shuddered.
Loops’ brows drew together in confusion. “Why would you do that?”
“Don’t touch me,” Sirius snapped as he tried to step forward again. “Stay the fuck away from me. That isn’t funny.”
“Baby—”
“What the fuck did I just say?”
Loops glanced to Glasses and the older man. “What’s going on?” he asked with a hitching breath.
The older man took his elbow, turning him aside. “Remus, we should talk in the hall.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Get away from me,” Sirius said lowly. The spiking adrenaline mixed with his headache and made his vision blur.
“Pascal,” Loops—Remus—began. His voice matched his stance, tense and guarded. “What happened?”
Pascal hesitated. “They told us there was a five percent chance of—”
“No.” Sirius winced at the raw, grating tone. The room fell silent; Glasses laid a gentle hand on Sirius’ shoulder. Remus closed his eyes for a moment and took two deep breaths, his hand pressing so hard over his collarbones that Sirius could see his fingertips whitening even six feet away. “How long have you known?”
“Right before you woke up—”
“How long?”
“Seconds, Remus.” Sirius watched Pascal’s throat bob. “I promise. I figured it out just before you woke.”
“He’s been awake longer than a few seconds.”
“He hid it pretty well until Dumo came in,” Glasses said quietly. Guilt stabbed hot through Sirius’ chest and he looked down at his hands. “He—we had a full conversation and I didn’t notice.”
When he risked a glance up again, Remus’ chest was rising and falling in tight movements. His face was a mask of passive control. “They said there was a five percent chance of severe memory loss and a forty percent chance of mild. How much are we talking?”
“He doesn’t know our names, or how he got here.” Sirius wasn’t sure how to feel about them talking about him literally three feet from his bedside, but it seemed like Remus’ careful calm was growing more fragile with each word from Pascal. “I swear to you, Remus, it was less than a minute before you woke.”
Remus blinked twice. Sniffled. His lashes clumped together as he shook his head. “I never should have fallen asleep.”
“You haven’t slept—”
“They told me nothing was wrong.” His voice caught; Sirius felt sick. Even with that stubborn ringing in his ears and the emotional maturity of a mushroom, he knew that this was not a problem he could fix by explaining the situation. Glasses and Pascal had looked horrified and sad when they realized; Remus looked shattered.
Remus had called him baby.
“They told me—” He faltered, clutching the neckline of his hoodie with a helpless look on his face. “The MRI came back clear.”
Pascal rested a tentative hand on his shoulder; when Remus didn’t push him away, he rubbed a soothing circle over it. “You know better than anyone machines can’t tell us anything.”
A hiccup caught in Remus’ chest. “They told me he was fine.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sirius finally said, hardly above a whisper. Remus and Pascal turned to him. “I know I play for the Lions, and I know my name, and I know I have a little brother named Regulus. This is clearly very upsetting for you, but I promise I’m trying to remember my friends.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Remus’ face remained unchanged, but his jaw tightened as he held Sirius’ gaze. “Friends,” he said flatly.
Sirius blinked, twisting the edge of the sheet in his hands as anxiety flared. “We’re teammates, yes?”
The cracking of the mask started slow, with a wobble at the corner of his mouth and hazel eyes turning bright. Remus crossed his arms over his chest, though Sirius wasn’t sure whether he was trying to defend himself or hug himself as his slender fingers clutched the faded grey fabric. “No.”
Once again, Sirius cursed himself for not staying quiet while he had the chance. Salvage the scraps, salvage the scraps— “I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier, you just startled me. If you give me a few minutes, it might come back to me—”
“No,” Remus repeated, blinking fast.
Sirius wiped his sweaty, shaky palms on the thin blanket. “Then please just tell me so I don’t have to guess—”
“You know me.” It came out on a choked-back sob. “Sirius, you know me. You know me better than anybody.”
Pascal began guiding him toward the door with gentle, firm hands. “Come on, Remus, let’s get some water.”
“I’m not leaving!” Sirius flinched at his raised voice and felt Glasses give his shoulder a squeeze.
“You need to take a deep breath—”
“In sickness and fucking health—”
“Remus, this isn’t going to help—"
“You know me!” Remus struggled and stumbled, but Pascal’s hold was steady while he all but pushed him toward the door. Sirius had never felt so helpless as when he looked into Remus’ eyes and saw desperate hope overflowing. “Baby, please—”
Sirius’ stomach lurched. “Don’t call me that.”
“I need you, I lo—”
The door closed behind them. Sirius closed his eyes. There was a muffled commotion in the hall, followed by a long stretch of silence. Baby echoed in his head like church bells as he fidgeted with the plastic hospital bracelet. “Please tell me your name.”
“James.” Glasses cleared his throat. “James Potter. I’m your left wing. You were my best man and are the godfather of my son.”
Sirius nodded. “I’m going to ask you something, and you’re not allowed to laugh.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Is Lily my wife?”
Something that would’ve been a laugh if it had more substance rushed out of James. “No, I won that jackpot. She’d think that was hilarious, though. You’re—you two are more like siblings.”
“I’m married.” A hum answered him. Sirius struggled to swallow. “I’m going to ask another question and it’s kind of important and I think I might already know the answer.”
“Shoot.”
In through the nose, out through the mouth. Then again, because his stomach felt like it was trying to shiver right through his skin. “Have I come out to you yet?”
James sniffed. “Yeah, man. We all love you.”
Sirius picked at the tape on the back of his hand. “Who were they? Pascal and Remus.”
“Pascal Dumais has basically been your adopted dad since you were eighteen. He and his wife, Celeste, have four kids and you’re like their big brother.”
A half minute of silence passed. “James.”
“Remus Lupin. Loops, your right wing.” James took a shaky breath. “And your husband of six months.”
Remus knelt in the hallway and stared at the door. His panicked, blinding adrenaline rush had faded as fast it arrived, leaving him suspended in shock. Numb. Dumo was still holding him, keeping him vaguely upright as his knees dug into the cold floor through his pants. He was saying something, not that Remus could make out the words through the cotton packed in his head.
“Oh, god,” he finally managed, little more than a breath. Sirius had looked so confused in that bed. So afraid under his snappish anger. Afraid of Remus. How did nobody see the signs? he wondered, leaning further into a solid chest. How could nobody tell he wasn’t alright? It took him a moment to realize the shallow, broken breaths were coming from himself. “Oh, god, I lost him.”
“No,” Dumo said immediately. “Remus, he’s going to be fine—”
“I lost him.” Tears burned his eyes but never fell, not even as Remus kept his eyes down and gripped Dumo’s forearm like a lifeline with both hands. “Dumo—Dumo, I lost him, he didn’t even know my name.”
Distantly, Remus felt a hand rubbing his shoulder, as if anyone else’s touch would be a comfort. “He will remember,” Dumo soothed. “He just woke up, Remus. The doctors said there was no permanent damage, ouais?”
Remus’ tongue was lead in his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut and let the dry sobs wrack through him soundlessly. Sirius had been pale even as they shook the opponents’ hands; Remus should have stayed with him, should have caught him, should never have let his exhaustion get the better of him.
Maybe then Sirius wouldn’t have hit his head. Maybe then he wouldn’t have his whole world taken away. Remus had suffered many things in his life, but he couldn’t recall the last time something made him hurt so completely like the lost and guarded look on Sirius’ face.
Sneakers squeaked in the hall behind them. He didn’t bother trying to straighten up. “What happened?” Logan demanded before the group even came to a stop. His hand closed around Remus’ arm, but Remus didn’t so much as flinch. “Loops? Is he okay? Did something go wrong?”
“Dumo?” Leo sounded scared. Remus knew he should comfort them, but there was nothing in him but an ocean of saltwater that fought to get out. Remus wanted to let it and found that he couldn’t.
“He doesn’t love me anymore.” It rolled off his tongue in a tumble of syllables. Never in his darkest nightmares did he think that would ever come true.
“No, Remus, that’s—” Dumo broke off; Remus felt him turn by a degree. “Sirius is alright. He’s awake and Pots is with him right now.”
“I don’t believe you,” Logan said warily.
Dumo’s chest rose and fell. “We don’t know the full story, but—”
“He doesn’t remember me,” Remus mumbled. It was as if every molecule of oxygen had vanished from the hall. “Us. Any of us.” He sucked in a deep breath, though it was more of a wheeze. “Five percent. They told me five percent.”
“Come on, Loops, let’s get you up,” Dumo said quietly. Remus let himself be hauled to his feet like an old coat, ignoring the screaming ache in his knees. It was nothing next to the raw wound inside.
“Hey.” A face swam into view, accompanied by a gentle voice. Talker held his upper arms tight. “Are you going to pass out?”
Remus shook his head. He needed to pull it together. He needed rationality. He needed to be able to stand on his own without anyone propping him up. He needed—
Sirius.
The tears rushed right up to the edge, but he shook his head again and carefully sat in the chair next to Dumo’s. It was old and creaky, and big enough that he could pull his knees up to hug them close to his chest. One more layer of protection between his soft, bloody insides and the outside world.
“Sirius woke up about fifteen minutes ago.” Dumo sounded exhausted already. Remus felt a tremor run through his arm where it rested against his own. “James was with him, and he seemed fine at first, but then he started acting strange.”
“I was asleep.” He tightened his grip on the sides of his knees. “I fucking fell asleep.”
“What kind of strange?” Logan asked.
“Confused, mostly. Ah, mal à l’aise?”
“Uneasy,” Remus mumbled. There was a light, comforting pressure on his upper arm.
“Right now it looks like Sirius’ memory was affected when he hit his head.” Dumo was quiet for a moment; there was a rustle, and Remus saw someone pass him a tissue. “Merci. At the moment, I don’t think he remembers much of anything since he joined the team.”
“Fuck.” Kasey’s voice shuddered as a collective murmur buzzed in the air. “Can we see him? Is everything else okay?”
“He’s only got a moderate concussion and a cut on his forehead, though the doctors aren’t sure how he swung that one,” Dumo said with a humorless snort. “Little miracles. I’m going to stay out here for a bit, but I’m sure he’d like to see you.”
Remus sniffled as the chair next to him creaked and closed his eyes. Someone’s arm draped heavy over his shoulders, pulling him in for a side hug as the others talking quietly among themselves. An anchor sat at the base of his ribs and weighed him down. “How could he forget me?”
It was a pathetic, selfish thing to say, and practically inaudible through the thickness of his voice, but his agony had warped into bafflement. “I don’t know,” Talker said. “But we’ll fix this, okay?”
They had won, beating every challenge the NHL tried to throw at them. There weren’t supposed to be any more obstacles in their way. Nothing worse than a little argument or injury now and then, something they could fix with a few apologies or a Bandaid. Just three mornings ago, Sirius had refused to let Remus go brush his teeth without payment of a million kisses. Now, he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him. “But we’re married,” he whispered. “That’s not supposed to happen. That’s not how it works.”
“Re?” Talker ran a thumb over his knuckles. “You okay? You’re a little pale.”
Remus blinked. “I think I need to go for a walk.”
“You need to stay right here, actually,” Dumo corrected, pulling him back down when he tried to stand on unsteady legs. “I need you here with me.”
That soothed the wrenching feeling in his heart a bit. Remus knew how to be needed. “What can I do?”
Dumo kept ahold of his forearm, though his gaze remained on the closed door, unreadable. “Just stay.”
Shadows moved on the wall through the little window; James was probably by Sirius’ bedside again, where Remus had sat and slept for the better part of eighteen hours before Lily forced him to get up and have some water. He wanted to be guilty for staying in the hall, but couldn’t find the space. A shiver rocked through him. “I think I’d rather have my shoulder ripped apart again instead of this.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Hurts the same.”
A heavy silence fell over the three of them before Dumo huffed. “Yeah,” he finally said, his voice a little thicker. “Yeah, I bet it does.”
The abject shock had faded by the time the doctor allowed them to visit, but Leo couldn’t say he was feeling much better. Dumo and Remus, at least, seemed to have somewhat recovered—they had each managed to keep down half a sandwich, and Remus’ face wasn’t gray anymore. They still looked like someone had drained twenty years of their life away.
Finn knocked on the door; Logan’s hand shook in Leo’s own as he gripped it tight. “Come in,” a tired voice answered. James smiled at them when they entered, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey. Long time, no see.”
Leo’s chest constricted as Sirius watched them with intense focus. His gaze flickered to Logan, whose breaths were hitching quietly. “You’re with Pascal,” Sirius said. There was more caution than guarded tension in his voice, and his accent was thicker than Leo remembered. “Almost all the time, ouais?”
“We both lived with him,” Logan managed. “I’m—we’re close. You and me.”
“Parles-tu français?”
“Ouais.”
They traded a few sentences back and forth; Leo understood most of it, but he was too distracted but the subtle changes in front of him to listen very hard. The Sirius he had grown used to was tall and untouchable and loud with his friends, only solemn in front of cameras or when the situation called for a killer poker face. But he looked shy as he spoke with Logan and yet intensely concentrated, like he was trying to memorize every word that left his mouth. Even his posture was different—he fidgeted with the edge of the hospital blanket, leaning unconsciously toward James.
Leo’s heart skipped a beat when silver eyes locked him in place. Something like a smile tugged one corner of Sirius’ mouth up. “Rookie,” he said, and it cracked Leo right down the middle.
“Yeah.” The word came out hoarse and he cleared his throat. “Sorry. Yeah, that’s—you call me that.”
“C’est bon. What’s your actual name?”
“Leo Knut. Like the lizard.”
“Logan said you’re his…copain? I’m sorry, I can’t remember the word.”
Leo nodded. “Boyfriend, yep.”
Sirius brightened. “You speak French?”
“Some.” It was taking every ounce of self-control not to burst into tears and he tucked his hands under his arms in what he hoped was a casual movement. “I’m from New Orleans.”
“And you, too,” Sirius said as he looked to Finn. “He calls you names in French.”
“Sirius!” Logan gasped.
“It’s true.” Mischief played over Sirius’ face, and for a moment Leo saw him as he must have been at the start—not nearly as open, but eager to please and excited at the possibility of friends. “They’re good names, don’t worry. What should I call you?”
“Finn. Or Harzy, it doesn’t matter much.”
“So you’re on the team, too?”
“All three,” Logan confirmed. Sirius seemed pleasantly surprised by that. “What, you thought you were the only gay NHL player?”
The amusement slid away like water from a duck’s back and Leo felt his heart drop with it. “You came out to us,” he said quickly as Logan’s eyes widened in sudden regret. “Almost two years ago, now. It’s fine, nobody was upset.”
“No, no, I know,” Sirius assured him, back to the quiet caution from before. He glanced at the door, then back to them. Realization dawned on Leo. Remus. Of course. “James told me. How many people are here?”
“…twelve?” Finn guessed after a beat of silence. “The rest will probably visit soon. We’ve all been ducking in and out when we can.”
“Hey.” James tapped Sirius’ elbow gently. “I’m going to grab some water and run to the bathroom, okay? Will you be cool with just them here?”
Sirius nodded, though he seemed unsure; Leo saw tears gathering in James’ eyes as he ducked past them into the hallway and reached out to brush against his arm in silent support. He missed.
“Viens ici,” Sirius said after a half minute of awkward silence. Leo rocked his weight forward, then back again when neither Finn or Logan moved. Self-conscious concern pinched Sirius’ brows. “…did I guess something wrong? Do we—do we not get along?”
“We do,” Finn said quietly. Logan sniffled again, and Leo rested his palm over his lower back. “This is just…we’re still a little surprised, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” He saw Finn’s chest rise and fall in a quick breath before he crossed the room and planted himself in James’ empty spot, jaw tight. Leo squeezed Logan’s hip, then followed him to the other vacant chair.
Sirius’ hands went still in his lap; he gave Leo a quick up-and-down look, like he was trying to read him and the words were in a different language. “James said you were there when I fell. That you helped.”
Leo’s stomach clenched. Every muscle had been throbbing with pain when he collapsed on the bench, drained of any shred of energy and weighed down by his gear. But the fact remained that Sirius had barely been three feet away, and that Leo had spent the whole night kicking himself for not grabbing him when he fainted. “Yep.”
Sirius chewed the inside of his lip for a moment. “I know your faces,” he said haltingly, then glanced up to Logan, who lingered behind them. “Il y a des morceaux.”
“Pieces are better than nothing,” Leo said, rubbing one side of his nose. “I’m sorry we’re being so quiet. It’s just good to see you awake.”
“Three days, right?”
“Two and a half. You were in and out a bit, an hour or so at a time.”
“James said that, too. I don’t remember it.” Sirius’ mouth turned down at the side and he tugged at his hospital bracelet before leaning back against the propped-up pillows with a sigh. “We’re friends?”
Finn hummed in agreement.
“What do we do?” Leo didn’t miss the way his eyes slid to Logan for a half second before settling back on him and Finn. “Are we friends outside of hockey?”
A few beats of choking silence passed before Leo cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, you and I run plays after practice sometimes, if I’ve been having a tough time of things.” You’re like the brother I never had, and I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose that. “I don’t think you and Harzy hang out a lot one-on-one, but Lo’s usually your go-to for video games ‘n shit. We have dinner sometimes with you and—”
He choked the name back just before it escaped; Finn looked away with a twitch of his nose. Sirius frowned. “I cook?”
“I can’t do this,” Logan murmured. Leo closed his eyes as his unsteady footsteps padded away; the chair creaked as Finn stood and went after him. The door opened and closed and left them alone.
Machines beeped. “…I’m really sorry,” Sirius said quietly.
“No.” Leo shook his head, breathing through the tears putting pressure on his throat. His stomach was shaking. “No, please don’t be. Lo’s not good with this sort of stuff.”
“I didn’t mean to upset him.”
When he looked up, Sirius was staring at the door in plaintive regret. It was a look Leo had never seen on his face before. “We’ve all been wound up pretty tight since the game,” he assured him, hesitating for only a second before resting a gentle hand on Sirius’ forearm. He jumped, but allowed it to stay. “It’s not your fault. Emotions are hard for Logan.”
“For me, too.”
Leo let a wry smile slip through. “You’ve been pretty good at it in my experience, if that makes you feel better.”
“It does, actually,” Sirius said with a humorless laugh. He still looked pallid. “He said we were close. How close?”
“Like brothers.”
“Are we close? You and I?”
Leo thought for a moment, pulling his hand away to tuck it under his thigh. Evenings on the roof of the rink, tousled hair and teasing jabs, the way Sirius stocked his freezer with Leo and Reg’s favorite popsicles in the summertime… “I think so,” he said. “Yeah. We’ve gotten closer over the past year and a half. It’s a little different with the Dumais and Lo, though.”
“Like brothers.” Sirius’ face fell as he echoed Leo’s earlier words. “I have an actual brother, you know.”
Leo sighed through his nose. “I know.”
“Regulus,” Sirius continued. His face was still impassive, but his voice dripped with fondness. “He’s…thirteen? Somewhere in there. Nice kid, even if he doesn’t always show it.”
It took several seconds for Leo to force the words out around his leaden tongue. “He’s 20, actually.” Sirius inhaled sharply. “He’s—he’s my best friend.”
Sirius nodded without a word, winding the plastic bracelet around and around.
“I’m sorry,” Leo managed. The sudden look of alarm was blurred by tears. “Fuck, I’m such a mess right now and you’re—god, Sirius, I’m so sorry.”
“Non, it’s alright—”
“I was right there. I should’ve caught you, but—but—” A hiccup cut him off as he angrily smudged away the tears with trembling hands. “I was tired and I didn’t even try. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Please don’t be,” Sirius said, a little desperate as he folded Leo’s free hand between his own and patted the back of it. It was endearing and awkward at the same time, such a Cap thing to do that it broke Leo’s heart all over again. “It was probably my fault for not drinking enough water. James said Coach put us in for way too long. I should’ve said something. It’s not your fault, I promise.”
“You don’t even remember it,” Leo blubbered. “I was on just on the bench, it wasn’t even that far.”
“Don’t blame yourself for this,” Sirius insisted. Leo felt two tears run down his cheeks as he closed his eyes. “Tell me—tell me about Regulus.”
Leo blinked, straightening slightly with his sleeve under his nose. “What?”
“You said you’re friends, yes? Tell me about him.”
“What do you want to know?” Leo asked slowly, after a beat of silence.
Sirius shrugged one shoulder and released his hand. “Anything.”
Everything. The thought struck Leo even through his haze of guilt and he swallowed hard. Of course Sirius would want to know about Regulus, especially when the last thing he remembered of him was a frightened preteen in the house of horrors they grew up in. Come to think of it, Leo wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen a photo of Regulus from that time period. “Um. He’s…tall?”
“How tall?”
“A little under six foot, I think. We’ve never measured.” Leo winced internally; everyone just blurred into ‘short’ or ‘tall’ compared to him. “He likes vanilla ice cream?”
“He does,” Sirius said, almost eager. “And des glaces à l’eau. The orange ones.”
“He found out about creamsicles last summer,” Leo half-laughed, drying the last of his tears from his chin. “Thought he was gonna lose his mind.”
An odd look came over Sirius’ face, as if a befuddling thought had just occurred to him. “How did you two meet?”
“Through you.”
His grip tightened on the hospital blanket. “Did I take him with me?” Sirius asked, almost a whisper. “When I was drafted for the Lions, did he…?”
Leo let out a slow breath. “No, he stayed.”
The bit of excitement that had filled Sirius’ face vanished. “Oh.”
“He did live with you for a bit,” Leo offered. “After he left the Snakes—”
“The Snakes?”
Fuck. “It was less than a year,” he said quickly. “He hated playing for them, and then shit went down and you and Logan went to All-Stars, and so Reg came back with you, and you and Remus made up, and everything was fine! It’s been great, actually! Your parents haven’t called either of you in almost a year!”
Sirius blinked at him. Way to go, slugger, Leo thought as he silently screamed at his own stupidity. Avoid one awkward conversation by throwing eight billion other complicated topics at the bedridden amnesiac. “I’m a little confused,” Sirius said after a moment, watching him with a wary eye.
Leo bit the inside of his lip. “I don’t think I’m the best person to explain everything.”
“No, you’re doing great,” Sirius assured him.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, then rested his chin in his palm to get a good look at the room. It was depressing as hell. Beige had never been Leo’s favorite color, and the machines were an added weight in the air. A sigh slipped out as he glanced back to Sirius. “Reg said he’d be here tomorrow. There aren’t any more trains tonight, but he’s getting on the first one in the morning. He’ll be able to talk about all this better than me.”
Sirius frowned slightly. “I thought he played for the Snakes, not the Rangers.”
“What? Oh, no, he’s at NYU.”
Sirius sat up so fast Leo jumped in his seat and grabbed his arm. “Regulus is at school?”
“Yeah, didn’t I say that?”
A slow smile lit up Sirius’ whole face as he gave Leo a light shake. “He left the NHL to go to university? In New York?”
“He started in Sept—”
“What’s he studying?”
“I—”
“Is he happy? Did he make friends? Does he visit? Does he like it there?”
The door opened again and they both looked over as Finn poked his head in. “Hey, I just wanted to—”
“Did you know Regulus is going to school?” Sirius demanded.
Finn balked, glancing at Leo. “Uh, yeah?”
“That’s fucking amazing.” Sirius leaned back on the pillows and covered his face with both hands, though Leo could still see his grin. Finn shot him a confused look and he responded with a thumbs-up. “Mon dieu, that is the best news. And he lived with me? In my house?”
“For a couple months,” Leo confirmed. “Then he was at Dumo’s for the end of the summer, and then he moved into his dorm.”
“He’s in a dorm!” Sirius sounded positively thrilled at the prospect as Finn took the other empty chair and set a bagel on the nightstand. “Does he like his roommate?”
“As far as I know.”
“He’s not terrorizing anyone?”
“Not on purpose,” Leo laughed. A giddy, warm feeling spread through his stomach. “He’s shit at answering his phone, though.”
Sirius pressed his lips together, then left a weak punch on his upper arm. “But he talks.”
“He does. Tries to call you at least once a week.”
“Fuck,” Sirius half-laughed, staring back up at the ceiling. The pulse monitor was still keeping a quick tempo on his other side. “I don’t—does he skate?”
“For fun, sometimes.”
Tears made his eyes bright for a second before he closed them. Finn’s hand rested on Leo’s back, warm and steady, a grounding force. “For fun,” Sirius murmured in clear disbelief. “I am so proud of him.”
Leo sucked in a sharp breath and felt Finn pause his rhythmic circles. “You should tell him,” Finn said gently. “He’s pretty worried about you right now.”
Sirius’ joy dimmed. “I’m sorry for scaring all of you. And for…all this.”
“Don’t be.”
“Well, I am.” Leo watched as some of the earlier guarded tension returned to his shoulders. “This is all new to me right now, but I can imagine it’s hard for you to see. I—”
He broke off with a frustrated exhale. Leo leaned into Finn as the hand on his back moved up to his neck, smoothing out the curls there. “We’re just happy you’re safe,” Finn said at last. “That’s all there is to it, Cap. Every single guy in that hallway is just happy you’re okay.”
Sirius’ nose twitched. “James said I had a concussion. That means I won’t be able to skate for a while.”
“Oh, fuck hockey,” Leo scoffed.
Sirius turned to him in obvious alarm. “I’m your captain.”
Indignance flared up. “The whole goddamn team isn’t out there because you’re their captain, they’re here because you’re our friend.”
Heavy silence fell over the room. Sirius stared at him in what would have been slackjawed shock, if he didn’t also seem mildly insulted and confused. It was hard to get a good read. “Can I have a second?” he asked after a few moments.
“Yeah, sure thing,” Finn said immediately, guiding Leo up by the shoulders. “James said to drink water, and I brought you a bagel ‘cause you should probably eat. If you want anything else, there’s a vending machine and a little corner thing, so just. Y’know. Text me.”
“Sure,” Sirius said faintly.
Leo clenched his teeth all the way out the door—it wasn’t until they were a good twenty feet that he rounded on Finn and poked him in the chest. “I am so fucking angry right now—”
“I could tell.”
“Nobody told him!” he huffed. “Not a single person told him he was important before us! What the fuck, Finn? What the fuck?”
“I know. It’s awful, and I hate it.”
Leo’ jaw ticked. “The next time I see his dad, I’m gonna punch him in the throat.”
“Easy there, Tremblay.”
“I fucking mean it. If it’s only in the last eight years that someone told him that he matters off the ice, that means he spent eighteen years—” He cut himself off, breathing hard, and Finn wrapped him in a hug. Leo tucked his face in the crook of his neck as the tremors shuddered through him. He had only known Sirius at his best, at his happiest. He had only been closeted for five of the months he had been in Leo’s life—he was strong, and capable, and kind to a fault. His connection with the other Lions was exactly what Leo had wanted.
“Deep breaths,” Finn said softly, leaving a light kiss on his cheek.
“Nobody cared about him,” he choked out. His eyes were dry—it seemed all his tears had been used up earlier—but it still ached like a sob. “And Reg was all alone.”
“We get to care about them both now.” Finn rubbed along his spine, easing the pain. “Cap’s memory is gonna come back in a couple days, and Reg will be here in, like, twelve hours. Everything’s going to be alright, Peanut. We’re not going anywhere.”
“Where’s Lo?”
Finn sighed. “Burst into tears as soon as he left. I had him go get lunch for Dumo and Remus once he could breathe again. He needed fresh air.”
Leo swallowed hard and pulled his face out of Finn’s shoulder, leaving a kiss below his ear, right on top of a dark freckle patch. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, not great.” His voice was tight and pitched up on the last word; Leo held him closer, keeping a hand over the nape of his neck. Finn sniffled twice as he gripped the back of Leo’s—well, Logan’s—hoodie.
“Have you eaten yet?” The answering silence was all he needed. “Let’s go find something other than stale sandwiches.”
“…I don’t want to leave him in there.”
“Me, either.” Leo nuzzled into the fluffed-out curls at the back of his head. Down the hall, a small group of the guys was still speaking with a nurse. James ducked back inside the hospital room, and he could see Dumo talking on the phone to someone by the bathroom. He gave Finn a gentle squeeze. “But Cap’s not alone. Let’s go find Lo.”
“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.” Sirius jolted out of his nap with a sharp inhale; in the doorway, a blond man raised his eyebrows. “Easy, I come bearing the gift of…whatever the fuck they call this.”
James Potter, Pascal Dumais, Remus Lupin—he was proud of himself for not stuttering over the name as he recited his list—Logan Tremblay, Finn O’Hara, Leo Knut, Jacob—John—Jackson with the scar on his face, tall Russian, Thomas Talker…
The blond man was still watching him expectantly as he set the small tray down and settled into one of the seats with a sigh. Sirius blinked, and realized with no small amount of embarrassment that he had definitely been scowling in concentration. “You okay?”
He tapped the side of his thumb on the thin mattress. “Starts with a B.”
“Kasey Winter.”
“Fuck, sorry.”
“No, it’s cool, most people call me Bliz. Blizzard. Easy mistake.” Kasey Winter reached over and filled a paper cup, taking a small sip. “I don’t think you’ve called me by my real name in…oof, probably eight months?”
“Why not?”
Kasey Winter snorted. “Because I don’t call you ‘Sirius’.”
“You don’t?”
“Nah. Pretentious names never sit right with me.”
His words were biting and blunt, but Sirius saw the smile in his eyes, even if his mouth remained a stoic line. “Thanks for not crying.”
Kasey—Bliz—shrugged. “Not really my thing.”
“Well, everyone else has, so I still appreciate it.”
Bliz fixed him with a look. Goalie, Sirius thought immediately. “You’re upset about something.”
Sirius balked. “Pardon?”
“You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The kicked puppy one that you get when you’re upset. Spill.”
Mild annoyance crept in. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
Bliz took another sip of water. “I’m your first mate.”
Sirius hesitated and unease trickled down his back. He had been so sure that James was his best friend—James had even confirmed it to his face. As far as he knew, he wasn’t the godfather to any other team babies. “…James is my best friend,” he said carefully, though it came out as more of a question.
That got an eye roll, though it was fond. “Okay, well, yeah. You two are platonically married at this point. It’s like a pirate ship, you know? Like, James is the co-captain, and then there’s me.”
Sirius tried to follow his hand motions, but the sudden movements made his head throb and he had to blink a few times to clear the dizziness. At least the nap had helped with his growing migraine and bone-deep exhaustion. “I’m upset because I’m stuck in a hospital bed with no memories of the last eight years,” he said. Half a truth was better than a whole lie, especially to someone who claimed to be his friend. “You would be, too.”
“Oh, for sure.” Bliz took a small bowl of jello off the tray and poked him in the arm with it until he took it. “But you’re also upset because of something else.”
Sirius made a face at the vivid green color. “I’m not about to talk to you about my feelings, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”
“Why?”
He turned to Bliz with an incredulous look. “Because I don’t know who you are!”
“Mm, yeah, that’s where the fun part comes in,” Bliz said, already digging in to his own bowl of jello. “You get an exclusive ‘ask me anything’ session with Gryffindor’s starting goalie.”
A spark of self-satisfaction popped in Sirius’ chest at the confirmation. Maybe his memory wasn’t as damaged as he thought, after all. He caught Kasey’s questioning look and allowed a small smile to slip through. “I remembered the goalie part.”
Kasey grinned, and bumped his fist lightly. “Hell yeah, man.”
“How do I know you won’t lie to me?”
“I am not the type of guy to lie to my friend while he has fucking amnesia.”
Sirius raised a brow. “That didn’t answer my question.”
“Knutty will vouch for me.” He must have seen Sirius’ hesitation, because he tilted his head toward the door. “Leo Knut. Tall, blond, looks like he fell out of a Disney movie. The less handsome version of me.”
Sirius hummed. “He cried on me, too. Well, next to me.”
“He’s the baby. We love him for it.” Kasey cocked his head. “He’s not much of a crier, but you mean a lot to him.”
Sirius nodded slowly and tried to keep the heartache down. Every person who had come to see him actually seemed to like him, for some reason. And not for hockey, either. It didn’t make sense. “How long have you been playing for the Lions?”
“Eight years and counting.”
“Were they your first team?”
“Nah, I was a Ranger for a bit.”
“How old are you?”
“Almost 29.”
“Have you been there as long as me?”
“Yep.”
“Are we friends?” The question, which had been bubbling at the back of his mind for a full minute, slipped out before he could stop it and he shut his mouth, staring into the jello. Shit. “I mean—are we actually friends, or are you just an assistant captain?”
“Hey.” His voice had gentled and Sirius fought back an embarrassed blush. “Course we’re friends, man. When I said first mate, I meant it. I’m not even an assistant captain.”
“I thought you meant something else,” he said lamely. Way to go, Black. “Sorry.”
“God knows you’ve pulled me out of enough fountains to get a bromance going. Then again, you’re the reason I was there in the first place.”
“…what?”
He could see Kasey’s smile in his peripheral vision. “The team went out, we got drunk, you dared me to catch a fish in the fountain.”
Sirius faced him in horror. “There were fish in the—I did what?”
“There weren’t any fish in there,” Kasey assured him. “And yeah, people generally try to keep us apart when we get smashed because we cause problems on purpose.”
Sirius narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “That doesn’t sound like me.”
“Took me a bit to crowbar you out of your shell,” Kasey snorted, though nothing in his expression was mocking. “Pots did most of the heavy lifting, but I was there to usher you into even worse decisions.”
“Why would you do that?”
The edge of his smile was affectionate as he socked Sirius on the arm. “Because I could also get you out of them. I’m a chill guy. You’re pretty chill, too, once you get out of your head. It’s fun to hang out with you.”
“Not very fun right now,” Sirius muttered.
“Bullshit. I’m having a great time.”
“I didn’t remember your name five minutes ago, and we’re supposed to be friends.”
There was a beat of silence, followed by the squeak of a chair as it shuffled closer. Kasey nudged him. “You know nobody blames you for that, right?”
The lie sat right at the tip of Sirius’ tongue, but something told him Kasey wouldn’t believe it for a second. That no matter how many lies he tried to tell, the honest truth would always come out around his—Sirius’ breath hitched. Friend. His friend, without a doubt. They would stand at the bus stop together on roadies. Kasey always saved a bag of plane pretzels for him. They had a running tally of points and saves against each other, and though Sirius couldn’t remember the exact numbers without giving himself a migraine, it was enough. “I should have said something when I started feeling sick.”
“You were sick?” Kasey asked, quieter. Sirius didn’t nod, but he didn’t shake his head, either. The events just before his fall had started creeping back since James left. The feeling of being overheated, and dizzy, and shaking, and a little nauseous. The gut-twist that always came with a loss. The blur in his vision as he fought to catch his breath.
“We didn’t have anyone else that could play, did we?” he guessed.
“Pretty much the whole second line was out, yeah. Flu.”
“I wanted to win so bad, but I got tired.” His plastic bracelet shimmered in the fluorescent lights. I couldn’t bear to let you all down.
“I get it.”
He sniffed. James’ silent grief replayed in his head, next to Leo’s muddle of emotions and Finn’s careful watchfulness. He didn’t even want to think about Dumo, Logan, and Remus. He didn’t want to remember what they had looked like when they realized just how bad he fucked up. “We’re friends?”
“We are,” Kasey confirmed, giving his wrist a light tap of solidarity even though Sirius was sure he was getting tired of the endless questions.
“Close friends?”
Kasey paused for a moment. “I would trust you with anything.”
Sirius nodded, and allowed the first tear to drip down onto the sheets. “So many people are hurting because I was too stubborn.”
Kasey’s hand moved from the bed to his shoulder, not grabbing, just lending comforting weight. “If this is about Logan, that’s got nothing to do with anything you did. He cares a lot about you, and it scares him when his family gets hurt. You didn’t upset him.”
“D’accord.” A corner of the bracelet came free under his fingernail. “I upset Remus, though.”
A breath rushed out of Kasey’s lungs. “Woah, no, Remus hasn’t slept in three days and he’s not good in hospitals—”
“I pushed him.”
“Cap, you had literally just woken up—”
“He was so sad.” Sirius flinched at how wrecked his own voice sounded. Every word was forced out through the clenching feeling in his lungs. Remus’ face played on loop in his head—the change from sleepy confusion to trembling control to horror and pain. “I know him.”
“I know you do,” Kasey said. “So does he. It’ll just take a bit.”
Sirius shook his head, frustrated by the absence of the right words. “No, I know him, and—and I want him here. All of you are my friends. I know that. I don’t remember my last eight birthdays, or most of your names, but I know what Dumo’s laugh sounds like, and I can see James’ baby, and I know you’re the one that touches your goalposts and runs the crease but Leo doesn’t. I need you to know that there is something there, it’s just missing and I’m sorry.”
The first sob wracked his whole body in a soundless pulse; he brought his knees to his chest and pressed his face into them hard enough to make his headache return. Kasey’s hand never so much as twitched. Sirius wanted to be embarrassed, but he didn’t have the strength to cling to shame anymore.
“I’m so scared,” he hiccupped into the blanket. The mattress dipped and warm weight settled across his upper back. He didn’t think twice before leaning into Kasey’s side. Who gave a fuck if he was making a fool of himself? He needed comfort, and he felt safe with his friends. It was baffling and beautiful at the same time. He never thought he would be allowed to have it.
“We’re not going anywhere.” Kasey sounded a little choked up. “This is a fucking terrible situation, and it’s scary as hell, but we’re not leaving until you’re okay. Dumo will be here, and Logan will be here, and I can’t imagine Remus leaving you of his own accord.”
“They pushed him out,” Sirius said miserably. “I pushed him. I yelled at him.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I don’t want to lose this,” he sobbed, feeling about as small as he had ever been. Finally letting go was like pouring alcohol on a wound—it burned and stung and hurt, but it cleaned out everything that had built up to fester. “I don’t even know half of you, but I know I can’t lose it.”
Kasey shushed him and pulled him in tighter, getting his other arm around Sirius’ chest. “We’re with you all the way, Cap. All the way.”
Through the haze of itching tears, Sirius saw people in the hallway, passing by and talking and sitting and waiting. Waiting for him. Staying for him, crammed into uncomfortable chairs in a too-cold room even though they were free to go. Silently looking out for him. He rested his forehead on his knees and let the tears run their course.
The hospital was quieter at night. Sirius had only mustered enough energy to see James for fifteen minutes before taking a three-hour nap, and by then visiting hours had ended and his friends were ushered out while the doctors came for another check-up.
He had never felt more empty with exhaustion.
The sheets itched and the fan raised goosebumps over his arms; his saline drip didn’t let him sleep on his side, and there was barely enough space for him to stretch his legs out all the way. They had laid the bed down to a smaller incline, but it still wasn’t flat—unfortunately, the pillow was. He was not looking forward to the oncoming crick in his neck.
In the corner, a lump of blankets was curled on a small cot. He could tell just by the breathing that he was not the only one awake.
“Remus?” A hum answered him, though it was hoarse. They hadn’t exchanged more than a few cursory words before lights-out; Remus had checked if he was comfortable, spoken with the doctors, then laid down on the cot and pretended to sleep for…
Sirius squinted at the clock. Close to two hours.
“Can we talk?”
The lump shifted as Remus turned over. “About what?”
He sounded dead on his feet. More than tired—drained. Sirius swallowed. “I love you.”
Remus’ breath hitched, and Sirius bit the inside of his lip. Finally, he heard an unsteady exhale. “Do you mean that, or are you just saying it?”
“Of course I mean it,” Sirius whispered as his heart plummeted. He closed his eyes; hearing the heartbreak in Remus’ voice was hard enough without seeing how lonely he looked on the cot. “I’m sorry about before. I was afraid and confused. I should never have yelled at you.”
“’s okay.”
“Non.”
“It is. I get it.”
“It’s not okay,” Sirius repeated. “You were trying to help. I wasn’t thinking.”
Remus sighed. “Really, I understand. I’m not upset.” Palpable hesitation seeped into the air. “Okay, I’m upset, but not at you.”
“I would understand if you were.”
“But I’m not.”
“D’accord.”
“Sirius.” There was a rustling noise, and then soft footsteps. The chair squeaked, and Sirius fought to keep himself from looking. He didn’t want to know what kind of expression he had put on that wonderful face. “I’m not mad at you. I was scared, too. I was sad. I thought it was unfair that this happened, and I still do. But I was never angry.”
Sirius exhaled through his nose. “I’m sorry.”
“What did I just tell you?” Remus’ voice was laced with a tired laugh, and Sirius drank it in like sunshine. A callused palm laid over his forehead and he felt tears start sticking to his lashes again at the tender touch; Remus brushed his fingertips through the front of Sirius’ hair like he was working off muscle memory, mixing the combing motion with a tug here and there. His thumb slipped over Sirius’ cheekbone. “What’s going on, Pads?”
He felt a drip reach his ear and swallowed down a lungful of air in a futile attempt to force the emotions back down. He couldn’t afford another breakdown. “I did everything wrong today.”
“How?”
“I spent most of it sleeping. I really only saw James, and then I made Leo cry, and then I cried all over Kasey. I didn’t—” He faltered as regret stabbed cold through his heart. “I didn’t see Dumo again. I didn’t see you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Remus’ words held no judgement. His hand continued to move. “I was a mess. Dumo was, too, but I think I stared at the wall for about four hours. This fucking sucks.”
“It does,” Sirius agreed, pressing into his touch. He wondered how often Remus touched him like that; if it was for special occasions, or if he was lucky enough that it was part of their nightly routine. He knew his heart beat a little easier with it.
“We have time,” Remus said after another minute. “Today was about processing. Tomorrow will be, too. The guys will come and go, and you can talk to them whenever you feel like it. The doctors said rest is the best thing for you right now.”
Sirius made a quiet noise of agreement. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Will you stay with me?” It was barely a whisper; barely a breath.
When Remus finally spoke, his voice was thick. “I married you, didn’t I?”
“Will you bring pictures?” Sirius felt sleep lulling him around the corners as Remus traced arcs over his ears, smoothing down the messy curls there.
“Of our wedding?”
“Ouais.”
“Sure.”
“And—” Sirius licked his lips and blinked his eyes open. “And of us? The guys?”
Remus was waxen and shadowed in faded yellow light from the hall, but still unreasonably handsome as he looked up at Sirius with his chin on one forearm and a smile. “I’ll see what I can find. I’ve got plenty on my phone, but screens are bad for concussions.”
“How do you know that?” Sirius teased.
He instantly regretted it when Remus’ expression froze for several seconds before he gathered himself. “I was your—the Lions’ PT for about seven years. I’ve only played a season and a half with the NHL.”
“Fuck,” Sirius muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Now that Remus said it, of course he remembered. Stacks of medical tape, stocked in their favorite colors—a red binder, and pictures on a plain desk. “Your office had blue walls. The table was on the far side, and you kept the stretching bands next to it on the…hat thing.”
A slow breath eased out of Remus’ lungs. “Yep.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know, Pads.” The other nickname hung at the forefront of Sirius’ mind, taunting him. He wanted to hear it so bad, but he didn’t know how to ask. Remus ran his thumb over Sirius’ forehead and smudged away the worry lines. “Try and sleep. I’ll be here if you need me.”
Sirius gently caught Remus’ wrist when he stood. His pulse quickened as he worked the words around in his mouth. “Will you…will you stay with me?”
“Of course I will, just like I said.”
“No, here.” Sirius shifted a few inches to the side, making room. He didn’t dare make eye contact. “With me.”
“Oh.”
A long minute passed. Sirius let go of him and heard a small rush of breath; spiking worry broke through the earlier calm. Then the paperlike sheets crinkled as Remus gingerly sat next to him and swung his legs over.
“Do you have enough—”
“Shh.” Remus was silent as he wedged himself into the space between the small handrail and his side. After a bit of maneuvering, he settled down, and tentatively laid his head on Sirius’ chest. “This okay?”
“Yeah.” Sirius’ voice broke and he took an unsteady breath as tears blurred the ceiling. The solid weight of him was so familiar it ached, right down the center of Sirius’ torso.
“Does it hurt?”
Yes. “No.” He let his head fall to the side and his stomach clenched when Remus’ hair brushed his cheek. “How do we usually…?”
“We spoon.”
“Ah. I don’t know if I can.”
“Don’t worry about it. We do this, too.”
Sirius let out a slow sigh. Any sane person would have stayed in their cot with their grief and—and whatever emotions Remus must be feeling, keeping Sirius at a safe distance so they didn’t have to deal with the reminder. Remus’ heart beat against him. “You really love me, don’t you?”
Remus huffed a laugh, though there was no amusement in it. “I really, really do.”
“I wish I wasn’t hurting you like this.”
“This is hurting you, too. We’ll just…figure it out together.” Remus scooted closer and Sirius felt his hand brush his ribs. “You smell different.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Sirius wrapped an arm up around Remus’ shoulder, ignoring the pulse clamp on his middle finger. His shoulder was strong and solid; Sirius didn’t know why, but the thought calmed him. They laid together quietly for a while as Sirius ran his thumb along the curve of Remus’ neck, memorizing each plane and bump. Even having him close was a comfort. “What do I usually smell like?”
Remus stifled a yawn. “We have lavender shampoo at the house right now. It’s supposed to help with anxiety, and it smells pretty good. Not super overpowering. Your cologne is nice, too. Not sure how to describe it. Mostly, you just smell like you.” he paused for a moment. “Sirius, you okay?”
“It’s just really good to have you here,” Sirius managed around the tightness in his throat. He wasn’t cold anymore. Remus kept him warm, and weighed him down just right even as his chest spasmed through the overload of feelings. Of all the stupid things to stick around, he remembered an online quiz had called him ‘touch-starved’ once—after holding Remus next to him, after being held, he didn’t know how he could ever go hungry again.
I missed you, and I didn’t even know it, he thought as Remus fit his fingers in the ladder of his ribs like he had done it a million times. Sirius let himself relax and tried to remember their bed, but the memory remained just out of reach until he slipped into a deep sleep.
When Remus woke, he nearly forgot where he was. Sirius’ chest moved under him like it always did in measured breaths—his heart beat a familiar rhythm against his palm. Reality crashed in and Remus scrunched his nose up, as if he could block it out like the sunlight streaming through the single high window.
His wristwatch was tucked up close between Sirius’ ribs and his own chest, but the wall clock told him it was just past nine. Remus blinked, then squinted and checked again. He hadn’t slept more than three hours at a time since Sirius hit the ice; no wonder he felt less frayed at the edges. The fog of shock and anxiety had dissipated during the night. He tucked his face into the dip of Sirius’ shoulder and closed his eyes again, humming when the movement brought out a sleepy mumble.
He was able to nap for another half hour before the ache in his joints (and bladder) grew too great to ignore. Sirius exhaled long and slow when Remus ran a flat hand over his chest once more, but didn’t open his eyes; even the soft kiss to his cheek didn’t cause more than a twitch of his nose.
Remus managed to squeeze out of the bed with minimal jostling and swallowed a groan of relief when he could finally stretch—at least six vertebrae popped back into place, making his eyes water and his shoulders whoop with joy. Then his left leg fell asleep and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stifle a yelp of pain as pins and needles raced all the way from hip to ankle.
It took another minute and a half to get enough feeling back to hobble to the door. Dumo, Logan, and Finn were already waiting outside—Logan stood so fast that he nearly upended Finn from his nap spot. Remus held a hand up as he started to speak. “Give me two seconds to pee and then I’ll tell you everything.”
“But—”
“Tremz.”
He felt a little bad for being so abrupt when Logan hardly had the chance to say two words to Sirius since he woke, but he also knew that he wouldn’t get another chance for a bathroom break until everyone and their mother had grilled him for the details of the past fifteen hours.
Remus washed his hands and rinsed out his mouth, then braced on either side of the sink and took a deep breath. And another, because despite the bliss of waking up next to Sirius, he knew the ruse would break the second those quicksilver eyes opened again. Regulus would be there in less than two hours, and he would be a wreck, and it would be up to Remus to calm him down because he had the most information. The team would flood back in with their love and endless, exhausting concern. He needed to go home and shower. Change his clothes. Find a photo album, like Sirius had requested. Call his parents.
Maybe it was selfish, but all Remus wanted to do was curl up in the too-small bed and return to their bubble.
He stood there for almost a full minute before he bent and splashed some water on his face, pointedly ignoring the mirror. “Alright,” he huffed. “Okay, here we go. Day two.”
“Oh, good, you’re not hiding,” Dumo said with a half-smile when he returned. “We were getting worried.”
“Not hiding, just greasy.” Remus met him in a hug, and let himself relax slightly at the sturdy pat on the back.
“Sleep well?”
“Yeah, actually.” He snorted in disbelief as they parted. “Eleven hours, straight through.”
“Good, you needed it.” Dumo held him at arms’ length. A frown creased his brow. “You look sore.”
“It’s—” Remus waved a hand at the door. “Sirius wanted me to stay with him. I think—I think he felt pretty bad about…yesterday. Bed’s a little small, that’s all. Tremz, you had questions?”
Logan chewed his lip as he glanced back to the door. “What does he remember?”
“Logan,” Dumo began softly, but Remus touched his arm.
“We don’t really know yet. From what Sirius has said, it sounds like everything up until age 18 or 19 is there, but the stuff after that gets murky. Some things he remembers with a reminder or two.” Blue walls. Stretch bands on the coat rack. “Other things, not so much. Names and faces are giving him the most trouble.”
I love you. Remus crossed his arms over his chest; he still wasn’t sure what to make of that. Logan sniffled. “Is he upset with me? Because of—yeah.”
“No.”
Finn rested their shoulders together and Logan swiped a hand under his nose. “I should go see him.”
“He’s sleeping,” Remus said, keeping his voice gentle. Neither of them looked like they had slept a wink; Dumo was marginally more put-together, but the corners of his eyes were still lined with worry. Logan looked up again, eyes red, and Remus felt his throat constrict. “He asked about you, though. Wanted to make sure you were okay. Once he’s up, you should talk for a bit. Where’s Knutty?”
Finn raised his eyebrows with a half-smile. “Went to go get Reg from school. Said he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. His insomnia’s been bad since the game, but he said he’d be fine driving.”
Remus frowned. “Really?”
“He napped for a couple hours after we went home.” Finn swallowed hard and pulled Logan’s hand over to toy with his fingers. “He left around two in the morning.”
The chair creaked as Remus sat on Logan’s other side, tucking his hands under his thighs. “Did you fight?” he asked quietly.
“Non,” Logan said. “Nothing like that. It’s just hard to have him away when all of…this…is happening.”
“When will they be back?”
“He said eleven—”
All four of them jumped when a tumble of hurried footsteps clattered down the hallway. “Excuse—excuse me,” a harried-looking nurse demanded. “I understand that you checked in downstairs, but you’ll need a wristband from the office down the hall to stay here—”
“I’m his brother, let me through.” Regulus dodged her grab for his arm like he was redirecting a check, his face set with determination. “Which room?”
“Sir—”
“Which room?”
“He’s asleep.” Remus stepped in front of Regulus and held a hand against his chest, standing firm under the full force of his glower. Even in wrinkled jeans and a hoodie, Regulus managed to loom. “If you wake him up, I swear to god I’ll turn you over to the nurse.”
Regulus’ icy eyes flashed. “Move.”
“No.”
“My brother is in there—”
“Sleeping,” Remus repeated. “So either chill the fuck out and you can go sit with him, or find someone else to yell at. I can promise you my bullshit tolerance is in the negative numbers right now.”
“I haven’t seen him in a month and a half,” Regulus said hoarsely.
“I know. Seriously, take a deep breath and then you can sit with him as long as you want. I just don’t want him to wake up to chaos two days in a row.”
Regulus’ anger dimmed into obvious concern, and he glanced over Remus’ shoulder. “What happened yesterday?”
Something in his gut twisted at the memory of Sirius’ stricken terror; Remus has spent a good portion of his evening wondering whether Sirius would retain his memories of the previous day when he woke, or if they would be back at square one in some sort of demonic Groundhog Day. “We had a rocky wakeup call,” he said with a forced smile. “He remembers you, though, so it should be better.”
Understanding dawned on Regulus’ face. “I’m sorry.”
“They told us it might happen.”
“That doesn’t make it easier.”
Remus cleared his throat around the rapidly-forming lump and moved aside, tilting his head toward the door. “I’ll go get you checked in, yeah?”
“Remus?”
He paused partway through a step. “Yeah?”
Regulus hesitated, then leaned forward and wrapped him in a tentative hug. It didn’t last long, but Remus was still blinking back tears when he slipped inside the hospital room and let the door close with great care. Sirius would be up soon. Remus wouldn’t be in the room for it, which was…fine. It would be fine. It would probably be better if Remus’ Groundhog Day nightmare was true, which wouldn’t surprise him, considering how shitty the past few days had already been. The important thing was that Sirius wouldn’t be alone.
“You got here an hour early,” he rasped when he turned back to the group, clearing his throat again.
Dark circles were stamped below Leo’s eyes and he was melting into Finn more than leaning on him, but he managed a wry look. “Speed limits are more like speed suggestions, right?”
Remus smiled, and shook his head.
Sirius automatically reached for Remus as consciousness trickled back in and frowned when his hand met empty space. “He’s in the hall,” an unfamiliar voice said.
He let his head fall to the other side and squinted at the newcomer, already preparing his mental list of names, only to freeze when the blob came into focus. He blinked twice. “What…?”
The young man shifted in his seat, looking more than a little uncomfortable. “Bon matin.”
Sirius blinked at him again, then propped himself on his elbows. “Regulus?”
Unbridled relief flooded his face, but Sirius continued to stare at him in disbelief. “They said you remembered, but I wasn’t—”
“When the fuck did your voice drop?”
Regulus’ dark brows shot toward his hairline—since when was his hair cut like that?—and he barked a laugh. Sirius couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “About four years ago,” Regulus said, flashing him a grin in return. A grin. Maybe it was the amnesia, but Sirius didn’t know the last time he had seen a real smile from his little brother.
“The—” He pressed his lips together in frustration as the name evaded him and he switched to French. “The tall one said you were 20, ouais?”
“Just had my birthday.”
Joy bubbled in Sirius’ chest, filling every crevice. “Really?”
“I think I would be the one to remember, yes,” Regulus laughed. He scooted the chair closer, eyes flickering over Sirius’ face. “You look healthier here than on TV.”
Sirius felt his smile slip. “Oh.”
“What?”
“Do we…” He faltered. Knowing the answer to his question could go one of two ways, and he desperately hoped he had the wrong interpretation. Having Regulus close, seeing him happy—Sirius closed his mouth. Not worth losing. “Nevermind.”
Regulus frowned. “No, tell me.”
“It’s fine, tell me about—”
“What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing is bothering me!”
“Oh, please,” Regulus snorted. “That might have worked when I was twelve, but I know you well enough now to call you on your shit.”
Sirius remained quiet for a moment and smoothed out the sheets; the place where Remus had laid wasn’t warm anymore. “You said I looked healthier than on television,” he said haltingly. “Do we not see each other in person very much?”
To his surprise, Regulus didn’t look offended, or indignant, or anything like it. His face fell. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Is it true?”
“I mean, a little, but only because I’m in school now.” He scooted his chair over another few inches and tugged on the corner of Sirius’ blanket. “I lived with you for the first few months after I left the NHL, and then I was with Dumo for a while, and then I moved into my dorm. So I—we saw each other almost every day.”
Sirius couldn’t even imagine it. The hardest part about moving to Gryffindor had been leaving Regulus behind. It ached like a fresh wound, even though the others told him nearly ten years had passed. Somewhere in that time, Regulus had grown from a sullen child into…not an adult, but something like it.
“We get along, now,” Regulus said, as if he could read his mind. “I come home for the holidays because I miss you. Remus and I are good friends. Leo—ah, the tall one—”
“Your best friend.” Then Regulus’ words registered, and Sirius had to glance back to his hands as tears welled up. I miss you. It had been a very long time since anyone said that to him. “I missed you, too.”
“I know.”
“Every day after I moved out. Do you like your school?”
A quiet smile tilted his mouth. “Yeah, I do.”
“You have friends?”
“A few.” He elbowed Sirius on the arm. “They’re all worried about you. Vanessa wanted to send me down with cookies, but we didn’t have enough time.”
“It’s the thought that counts. How was the train?”
“No idea.”
Sirius frowned. “How did you get here?”
“Leo drove me.”
“From New York? That’s an eight hour trip.”
The tips of Regulus’ ears went pink, and he coughed. “Seven. We were worried.”
Worried. Regulus was worried about him. “So you drove that far in the middle of the night?”
“Well, I couldn’t make it here for three days while you were unconscious, so pardon me for hurrying over when I get a text saying that you woke up and didn’t remember anything,” he said a little waspishly, then blinked a few times like he had something in his eye. “Sorry.”
Sirius reached over and brushed his fingertips against Regulus’ hand. “I didn’t forget you.”
“Yeah, Remus told me.”
He nudged him again until Regulus glanced up through his messy curls. “I might have forgotten your age, but I didn’t forget you.”
Regulus screwed his face up and sniffled, then took Sirius’ hand and held it tight. “You scared me. There was blood. Some people on the internet were saying you died, and Leo kept saying you were still asleep.”
“There was blood?”
Regulus motioned toward his head, and Sirius raised his free hand to feel around. Sure enough, a gauze bandage was taped just above his temple. “Head wounds bleed a lot.”
“Reg,” he said softly when a single tear rolled down his cheek and a second followed. “Hey, I’m okay—”
“I know that now, but nobody could tell me anything.” Regulus scrubbed a hand down his face despite his trembling lower lip; Sirius pulled lightly on his hand until he moved to sit on the edge of the bed and all but fell into a hug.
“It’s okay,” he soothed. Regulus folded into him just like always, even though he was bigger now; Sirius let him hide his face and rested his chin on Regulus’ head, rubbing his back. “I’m okay. It’s only been 24 hours and I can already remember a lot more than yesterday.”
“It’s not about your memory.” Regulus’ voice was muffled by the hospital gown as he gripped the fabric. “I thought I was going to lose you right after I got you back.”
Sirius’ breath left him with a small noise. “Reg, no. No, don’t—don’t think about that.”
“I kept re-watching it.” The hand over his shoulder blade tightened; his words were practically inaudible. “I didn’t know whether to come or stay, ‘cause you were asleep, but everyone else got to be with you and nobody knew what was going on so I didn’t know anything.”
Sirius readjusted to sit up properly and pressed a kiss to the top of Regulus’ head, closing his eyes at the tremors that rocked through him. “We didn’t see each other a lot after I left, did we?” he asked, not much louder than a whisper. Regulus’ chest hitched and he shook his head. “I don’t know what I did to make you think I would leave you like that, but I’m sorry. I promise I’m alright, mon etoile.”
Regulus hiccupped and drew his knees up until he was curled around Sirius’ arm, though Sirius could see how careful he was not to jostle any of the wires or machines. Always so careful. Where Sirius shouldered through obstacles, Regulus would tiptoe and creep and duck beneath, but in that moment Sirius wasn’t sure there was a force on earth that could detach his baby brother from him. “I’m glad you lost your memory.”
Sirius paused for a moment at the murmured confession, then slowly started rubbing his back again. “Why?”
Regulus sniffled. “Because now you don’t remember all the awful shit I said about you.”
“Oh,” Sirius breathed, his heart shattering. “Reg, I already forgave you for that a long time ago.”
“You don’t even know what it—”
“I do.” He felt Regulus suck in a breath. “I remember. And even after that video came out, I was never angry with you. I just hated the Snakes for making you say it.”
Regulus’ face had been so twisted up; the memory was still foggy, but Sirius knew enough to pick out the shark-toothed grins of his teammates behind him. He didn’t have to know their names to hate them on sight. “I should let your friends come back in,” Regulus said after a while, once his shivering had subsided and his death grip on Sirius loosened.
Sirius patted the back of his shoulder. “Actually, I want to talk to you. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
“Meh. Kind of.”
“Eight years,” he reminded him as they began to peel apart. “Tell me about university.”
Regulus gave him a skeptical look. “Really?”
“Really.” An idea struck as he remembered Leo’s words from the back before, and he clasped Regulus’ shoulders tight. “I’m so proud of you for going to school, Reg. I want to hear everything.”
The house was dark and quiet and stale, dust dancing in the sunlight when the front door finally opened after days of disuse. Remus sighed. It took a great heave of effort to step foot inside, and tears welled up when he saw Sirius’ hoodie casually flung over the back of the couch.
“Pull it together,” he said aloud, tilting his face to the ceiling. “Come on, Lupin, pull it together. It’s your own damn house.”
He steered clear of the kitchen, making a beeline for the stairs, then stopped halfway up with his hand on the banister. If he showered downstairs, he would have to put on his five-day-old clothes again. If he showered upstairs…
Remus breathed deep for a few seconds, pushing down the tide of emotions as it tried to drown him from the inside out. “Just a room,” he muttered, forcing himself to move. “Nothing to be afraid of.”
The first thing he noticed when he pushed the door open was that it smelled like Sirius. Everything did—it was their house, after all—but the bedroom dripped with signs of him. His cologne was uncapped on the dresser where he had rushed to throw it on over his game suit. The bed was rumpled, his phone charger cast haphazardly across the pillow. His shoes were lined up beside Remus’ in the open closet as if he was going to walk in and grab a pair any second.
Remus’ arm felt like it was made of rusted pipes as he dug through their dresser for the first pants and shirt he could find, then headed toward the bathroom with his clothes clutched tight to his chest. He turned the water on and undressed on autopilot while it warmed up—the steam engulfed him and he breathed deep.
“Shower, food, photo album,” he reminded himself as he ran a hand through his greasy hair. “Shower’s here, leftovers in the fridge, photo album on the bookshelf, second row.”
He let the water rush over him for several seconds after his whole body was soaked before reaching for the soap. Lather, scrub, rinse, and then repeat. He was certainly grungy enough that an extra round wouldn’t hurt. He moved methodically, getting behind each ear and even between his toes. He ran the soap over his arms until they were almost raw from the hot water.
Remus poured some shampoo into his hand, was hit fully in the face with a cloud of familiar lavender that only made him think of strong arms and soft hair, then sat down in the tub and burst into tears for the first time since Sirius fell.
“Here’s us, right before our vows,” Remus was saying as he pointed out one of the pictures. Sirius hummed and leaned further into his side, still holding Remus’ hand where it draped over his shoulder. “Reg and Jules almost lost the rings, but they didn’t tell us until, like, a month ago.”
“And this was…?”
“This past summer.”
“June, right?”
A small smile came over Remus’ face. “Exactly.”
Logan swallowed hard. “Lo?”
“Ouais, sorry.” He pushed his hat back again and crossed the narrow hallway to sit next to Leo, then passed the bag over. Leo didn’t take it. Instead, a long arm wrapped around his upper back and pulled him over until their sides were flush. A breath shuddered out of him. “What’s that for?”
“Just wanted to hold you,” Leo said simply, shifting so Logan could rest his head on his shoulder.
Several seconds of quiet passed. Logan could still hear Remus and Sirius talking, and kept his eyes fixed on the bland doorstop that allowed some airflow into the stuffy room. “I’m scared, Peanut.”
“Me, too.”
Finn came out of the bathroom and offered a tired smile when he saw them, wiping his hands on his jeans before taking the seat on Logan’s other side to leave a lingering kiss on his cheek. Logan managed a smile at the light scrape of his stubble. “It’s gonna be fine,” Finn said, folding Leo’s hand in his own with a nudge to Logan’s shoulder. “We got Loops to go home for a bit. That’s a win, right?”
“Dumo got him to go,” Logan corrected. Bribed, coerced, tricked…he still wasn’t sure. “But yes.”
“Are you going to talk to him?”
Logan licked his lips. “When Loops is done, yeah.”
“Good.” There was no judgement in Finn’s voice; he kissed him again, gentler, before sitting up to press one to Leo’s lips as well. “Sandwiches?”
“Bagels. Lo’s a genius.”
“Good bagels?”
“I wouldn’t get you, of all people, shitty bagels,” Logan muttered.
Finn nuzzled his neck with a smile. “I know.”
His back ached when he finally straightened up and accepted a half from Leo. “Reg?”
“On the phone with the Loops’ folks.” Logan reached over and wiped a bit of cream cheese off the corner of Leo’s mouth. “Thanks, baby.”
“How’s he doing?”
Leo exhaled through his nose, then nodded. “Better. Much better. He said he’d take a nap after the call, which’ll be good for him.”
Laughter trickled through the crack in the door and Logan’s heart leaped at the sound. Finn paused midbite and laced their fingers together, giving his hand a light squeeze. “That’s a good sign.”
Logan nodded. Nobody but Remus and Regulus had seen Sirius since he woke up that morning, which made sense, even if it sucked for the rest of them. If Logan was in that situation, he wasn’t sure he’d want to be near anyone other than his boys until he was back to normal. Maybe that was selfish. Sirius had more than earned a little selfishness, though.
Going home the night before had been a game of ‘who can peel Finn out of his chair the easiest’ and then ‘who can make sure Leo actually eats before embarking on a spontaneous, insomnia-driven road trip’—Logan had won both times and proceeded to not catch a wink of sleep. Finn worried quietly, and he had been worrying quietly for four days nonstop, so it was no surprise when he wrapped all four limbs around Logan and passed out cold. It still made his night rather lonely.
Dumo came around the corner at the end of the hallway and visibly relaxed when he saw them, then glanced back; two seconds later, Celeste appeared, ushering all four kids forward as they huddled close together. Katie’s gasp was loud over the murmuring of other voices. “Tremzy!”
“Bonjour, lovebug,” he said around a laugh, ignoring the ache in his muscles from sitting so much to sweep her into a hug. “What are you doing here?”
“We came for a visit,” Celeste answered. Her kiss to his cheek was as friendly as ever, but her smile was strained. “We were going to get a babysitter, but they wouldn’t hear of it.”
Adele held on to the hem of Dumo’s sweater as she craned her neck to see into Sirius’ room, looking much younger than fourteen. “Can we go in?” she asked carefully. “Is he sleeping?”
“Loops is with him,” Leo answered.
Katie’s lower lip slid out in a pout. “But we need to give him cuddles so he’ll feel better.”
Dumo tugged on one of her bouncy curls, then ruffled Marc and Louis’ hair. “We’ll go check and see if he’s up for visitors, d’accord? Sit tight with the Cubs and remember to use your inside voices.”
Logan didn’t miss the way Celeste clutched Dumo’s hand as they ducked into the room, nor the concern creasing the corners of her eyes. Katie rested her head in the crook of his neck a moment later. “Is Sirius okay?”
“Yeah, he’s okay,” Logan answered with a kiss to her forehead. Adele was chewing on her lip while Louis shifted his weight from foot to foot; Marc just watched through the crack in the door, brow furrowed. “How have you been? Lots of time with your maman, eh?”
“We’re worried,” Adele said quietly.
Logan swallowed hard. “Us, too, mon chou. But Loops and your dad are taking really good care of Sirius, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Anyone hungry?” The three kids turned, and Leo smiled as he held up the bagel bag. “We’ve got plenty here for y’all.”
Logan set Katie down again and pulled another chair over as they mobbed Leo, carefully placing himself in front of the door. Sirius’ room was the last in the hall—he was grateful that they didn’t have to worry about talking up too much space when so many people had been in and out. The poor nurses were probably sick and tired of seeing them already.
“Mama wouldn’t let us watch the end of the game,” Marc said around a mouthful of cream cheese. “She said Sirius fell.”
“He did,” Finn agreed, reaching over to hold Logan’s hand. His thumb moved in small circles over the back.
“But Sirius falls all the time.”
“He hit his head on the way down,” Logan explained, shifting to make room when Katie climbed back into his lap with her bagel between her teeth like a pirate’s knife. “The doctors wanted to check it out and make sure he was okay.”
He glanced at Adele and she narrowed her eyes, but said nothing. “Can he come home soon?” Louis asked. “We were supposed to play soccer two days ago and I really wanna show off my new ball.”
Logan hesitated. “Yeah, he’ll be home soon. I don’t know if he’ll be able to play soccer, though.”
Adele’s suspicion grew. “Why not?”
“Moderate concussion means he needs to rest.”
She hummed, clearly unconvinced. Katie wriggled out of Logan’s lap, leaving a cream cheese fingerprint on his knee that had Finn stifling a laugh with his hand. “I’m going to go check on him.”
Finn stopped laughing at the same moment Logan reached for her, too slow. “Katie, wait—”
She skipped out of reach and slipped inside, then bolted back out half a second later with wide eyes. “Mama’s crying!”
“Okay, shh, shh,” Logan soothed, getting down to her level. Adele’s gaze burned into him from the side.
“Mama’s crying,” Katie repeated, her lower lip trembling uncontrollably. “You said he was okay!”
“Sirius is fine,” Logan assured her, smoothing her hair back behind her ears. “Your mama was just worried—”
The door swung open all the way and Dumo stepped out, his own eyes a little wet. “Everyone alright?”
“What happened?” Adele demanded before anyone else could speak. “Papa, you told us he just had a concussion, and Logan’s not telling us anything, either. Please tell the truth.”
“Sirius does have a concussion,” Dumo said placatingly. “Aside from the small cut on his forehead, that’s the only thing the doctors found. Because of that, he’s been having some problems with his memory, so we didn’t want to worry you before we knew more about it.”
Louis looked up from his bagel with big, sad eyes. “Sirius doesn’t remember us?”
Dumo sighed and pulled Logan’s abandoned chair over to sit by them. Katie snuggled up closer to Logan’s chest. “At first, he didn’t. Now, he does. Mama was crying because she was happy to see him feeling better. Happy tears, mes petites. Cross my heart.”
“Can we see him now?” Adele asked. Marc was still looking at the door.
“Ouais. Be gentle, though.”
That was all it took to dispel the sadness—Logan barely managed to get to his feet before they stampeded past, tumbling into the room in one large clump. “Hey!” Sirius laughed from inside. “All of you?”
“Baby?” Finn’s hand on Logan’s lower back was as gentle as his voice. “Are you going in?”
Logan swallowed. “We should let him have this.”
“You’re part of the family, too.”
“I might be too much,” he murmured, turning back.
Finn blocked his path and gave him a light nudge. “We’ll be here when you’re done,” Leo said with an encouraging tilt of his head. “He’ll want to see you, Lo.”
Logan thought for a long moment. He hated hospitals almost as much as Remus did—they gave him an itchy, sweaty feeling that only amplified when someone he loved was cooped up in one. And Sirius had looked so fragile in that bed, overwhelmed by Logan’s very presence. His injuries were mild, but it was the worst thing Logan had seen in a while. “D’accord,” he said at last, scuffing his foot on the floor. Finn’s touch on his spine eased. “Yeah, okay.”
The hospital bed was a wreck when he tiptoed in. All four kids were piled over Sirius’ legs while Remus kept his place by his head; Celeste and Pascal had taken over one of the chairs with matching smiles. Questions flowed out of Marc at a mile a minute as Adele silently snuggled under Sirius’ arm and messed with his plastic bracelet.
Logan made eye contact across the room and froze. The waxen, distressed expression that had scared him so much was gone from Sirius’ face—there was color in his cheeks and he didn’t look quite as lost anymore. “Hey, Tremzy,” he said as Marc paused for breath. “Did you let the zoo in?”
Logan cracked a smile. “Dumo’s fault.”
“We do always blame it on him, eh?”
He inhaled, sharp and abrupt. Sirius remembered. Enough to recall that, at least, and by the grin tugging at Sirius’ mouth it hadn’t been an accident. “We do,” Logan agreed, taking a few steps forward until he reached the foot of the bed. Sirius’ forehead bandage was stark white, but it had been replaced by a smaller piece of gauze than before and a few thin pieces of tape. Sirius lifted his free arm in a wordless offer; Logan sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and fell into the hug, relishing Sirius’ firm, unwavering grip on his shoulder.
“I remember you,” Sirius said quietly. Logan bit the inside of his lip. “Not everything, but I know you.”
“I’m so sorry about yesterday. You needed me, and I—I couldn’t.”
Sirius made a soft, sad noise and gave him a little shake. “No. Bad. Stop beating yourself up about that. Of all people, I get it.”
Logan sniffled and tucked his knee up for a more comfortable angle. “Do you actually feel better, or are you just saying that?”
“I just got to relive my wedding,” Sirius half-laughed. “I’m doing f—I’m doing great.”
Remus got into the bed that night without prompting. Sirius, who had fallen asleep an hour prior after Lily and James brought Harry to say hello, shifted and mumbled something unintelligible. “Shh, baby, it’s just me,” Remus whispered, then winced.
Sirius blinked a few times, then looked up at him. A slow, happy smile spread over his lips. “You said it.”
“Said what?”
The smile grew. “You called me ‘baby’.”
“You—it slipped out,” he said lamely. “Sorry, I know it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Non,” Sirius said gently, twining a loose strand of his hair around one finger. Remus sank into the touch as it reverberated all the way to his heart. “I’ve been waiting to hear that again since the first time.”
Remus laid his head on the pillow until they were eye-to-eye, and sighed. “It a reflex by now. I call you that all the time.”
Sirius brushed their noses together. “I know.”
Time seemed to stop, along with Remus’ heart. “…what?”
“I have more memories of you calling me ‘baby’ than of you saying my name,” Sirius whispered into the sliver of darkness between them. “You say it when we wake up in the morning, and when we cook dinner together, and when we scrimmage in the basement. Every time a song has ‘baby’ in it, you look at me and sing the words. I’m only ‘Sirius’ if we’re in bed or if I’m in trouble.”
Remus didn’t even register the tears sliding down his nose until Sirius wiped them away, stroking his cheek with the back of one hand. “You…”
“It’s coming back.” Sirius said it like a promise, and Remus closed his eyes. “It’s been slow today, and I’m so fucking tired, but I remember more of the small things. There’s only one big one I’m still foggy on.”
“What is it?” Remus breathed. He would recount every second of the event to Sirius, every breath and word until those last roadblocks were overcome. And if he couldn’t do it, he would walk the world over to find someone who could.
Sirius hand flattened until he was cradling Remus’ cheek. “Kiss me, and I’ll know.”
That was something only Remus could give him, so he did.
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