The Origin Of Love

July 1995

Remus opened the door before the dog could even paw at it. "Oh, you're here," he said blankly, seeming unconcerned that a large black canine had somehow let itself into the building and had made its way up to his flat. "Come inside," he said in the same cool voice, unsurprised and yet too shocked to say much of anything.

He held the door open wide, and Padfoot trotted in, toenails clicking on the floor. Remus shut the door behind him, carefully sealing it with more than the usual amount of locking charms. When he turned around, he was face to face with Sirius Black for only the second time in fourteen long years.

They stood there for a moment, watching each other. Sirius was surprised to see his former lover's face again; he had had trouble remembering it when he was in Azkaban, and yet he knew that his face today was different from his face of fourteen years ago. Remus's visage had new lines in it; the eyes were more tired, the mouth thinner, the hair speckled with considerably more silver. Then it occurred to him that if Remus had changed so much, surely he had changed even more. What was going on behind Remus's carefully blank gaze right now?

"Dumbledore...sent me here," he said to Remus finally, in a kind of explanation. Something had to be said. The flat was too silent, too tense.

"I know," Remus said simply. "He owled me."

"Is that alright with you?" Sirius asked haltingly, not moving from where he stiffly stood by the small table.

Remus's lips twitched - was he trying to smile, or was he trying to lie? But he only said, "Of course it's alright with me, Sirius. You know you can stay here."

He suddenly didn't care whether Remus was lying or not; there was something so comforting, so reassuring, in the fact that someone had not turned him away or paled at the sight of him or threatened to give him over to the Hit Wizards. He wanted to kiss Remus, not in desire, but in gratitude. He wanted to grovel at his feet and beg for forgiveness. He wanted to be held.

Remus was speaking, he realized. "Would you like to...er...sit down?" he was asking. Sirius nodded dumbly, and let Remus lead him into another room. It was a small, dingy apartment, Sirius noticed suddenly. If this was all Remus could afford... Life was not fair. Not at all. Not to such an intelligent, kind, gentle, wonderful man as the one who sat him down on the patched sofa now.

They were silent again, both perched on the couch, uncomfortable and awkward. Then again, what was there to say in a situation like this?

Truthfully, there was much to say, but it was impossible to articulate it all. Sirius looked again at the tired, fourteen-years-older face. 'I should have known,' he wanted to say. 'I should have known it was Peter and not you, I should have trusted you. I should have protected Lily and James, I owed it to them, I promised them. I should have protected you. But I let you down, let you all down, and it's nobody's fault but mine. And I've paid for it every day for fourteen years, and I will continue doing so for the rest of my pathetic life.'

But all he said was, "I'm sorry."

Remus looked at him again, suddenly, startled out of his own thoughts. "You're what?" he asked, unsure of what his companion had said.

"I said - I'm sorry." His voice cracked, and he had to swallow past the lump in his throat before speaking again. "Forgive me...because I didn't know...I had no idea...forgive me?"

"Oh, Sirius," the other man sighed, his face crinkling sadly. "Of course I forgive you. Of course."

"Because I didn't know...but I should have..." Sirius said, unable to stop talking. He felt that he simply had to explain this to Remus, get it off his chest, make someone understand. "I should have known..."

"You had no way of knowing..." Remus said gently, reaching over and taking Sirius's hand in his. The human contact was what sent him over the edge. He wasn't sure if Remus pulled him close, or if he simply pushed himself into the embrace; but suddenly he was leaning across the couch to Remus's arms, laying his head on the unfamiliar shirt, closing his eyes to block out the onslaught of sensations.

"What's wrong?" Remus asked softly, speaking to him like he was a child. "What's wrong?"

"That's--" Sirius gasped, hardly able to speak. "That's the first time anyone's touched me since..."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said quickly, trying to untangle himself.

"No, it's good, it's good, it's..." He forced himself to speak more clearly. "No one's touched me since - before."

"But what about..." Remus began, then paused. "That night. Last year, in the Shack. When you...and I..."

He knew exactly what Remus was talking about : the night in the Shrieking Shack, June of last year, when Remus had found him and had known he was innocent and had embraced him there in front of the children. It had not been romantic or forgiving or overtly loving, but it was warm and relieved - it had meant something, conveyed a message through the touch. It had been a veritable shock to Sirius's lonely body. It had been even more so to his soul.

His throat tightened again. "I just need you to forgive me, Remus, I'm so sorry. It's my fault, I should never have suspected you, I should have known it was him--"

"Shh," Remus said comfortingly, holding him. "It's alright, Sirius. It'll be alright--"

"No, no it won't, not ever, just - just hold me, Remus, please..."

"I will. You're safe. You're in my arms tonight."

He was silent, leaning against Remus, breathing in the familiar scent and trying to hold back tears and letting his shaking body relax and take in comfort for the first time in ages. It had been a lifetime since he had been here, in Remus's embrace, safe and unafraid for the immediate future. He let himself sink into the warmth of his arms and just breathe.

Remus was speaking again, murmuring to him, comforting him. "You're forever running head on to things that knock you down. Do you know that? You've been doing it all your life. And I always wanted to be there, to pick you off the ground. Most of the time I was. Just not this time...this time was bad for all of us. But you'll get through it, we'll get through it, I promise..."

"But I'm not strong enough to fight," Sirius protested softly.

"There's no need to. Not right now. Not in my arms, not tonight. Understand?"

Sirius nodded, swallowing again. Why was letting go, even for a moment, so difficult? Here he was, back in Remus's embrace after all these years and betrayals and hardships, and all he could think about was the things he needed to do - protect Harry and Remus, talk to Dumbledore again, find Peter and kill him... He half-laughed, hating himself. "God only knows why I don't just retreat, instead of always riding the rails back to it all."

"To where?"

"The place of our worst defeat," he said darkly. He tried to sit up, tried to stand, but Remus held him close and kept him still.

"You're not fooling anyone, you know," he said gently. "Not quite. Why can't you just let it wait til tomorrow, Sirius? What can you do right now?"

Remus was right, he knew. He sighed, and tentatively put one arm around the narrow body in return. "I know, I'm not convincing you. Didn't expect to anyway. But...maybe...you're right? I mean, you are. You're right. I just...I just feel like I have to do it, I owe the rest of my life to Lily and James because it's my fault they're not here."

"It's not your fault," Remus said firmly. He did move this time, pulling Sirius so that he sat and they looked each other in the eyes. "What can I say to make you understand that?"

"Remus, look at us!" he exclaimed, breaking. "Look at our lives! Look at the world! This is my fault, it's my problem, Lily and James and Harry and you - your lives - my fault..."

"No, it's--"

"Did you plan on living like this?" He gestured around the flat. "Marked as accomplice to a murderer, only they were never able to convict you? Do you think James and Lily ever thought they'd die before they saw their son's second birthday? Did Harry deserve--" He broke off, unable to cry, but still choking on his words, on his sadness and anger and helplessness.

It didn't matter if he could speak any longer, anyway. Remus had grabbed him again and was holding him, clinging to him and holding him close at the same time, as much for his own sake as for Sirius's. He exhaled, a single shuddering breath, and held his soulmate close. "We can't - we have to try - but - try not to be strong, Sirius, try not to do it tonight. You've got to let it go, you've got to heal, we can't go on living like this."

"I know, I know," Sirius whimpered, burying his face in Remus's shoulder.

"For years, I saw in you the one who'd be there for me. I knew you would. And you always were." If it was

possible, he held Sirius closer. "And now I'm here for you tonight."

"And I need you here," Sirius echoed. "I need this. I need to be in your arms tonight."

"Then stay here," Remus said. "Just let it go. Just breathe, Sirius. It'll be alright..."

Sirius wanted to believe him. Perhaps, if he stayed there a little longer, if Remus held him a little tighter, he would.