Forgotten

When I awake the second time, it is much easier to come around. Senses, though still abrupt, are slightly more expected. And since this is the second occurrence, I have the suspicion that I am not hallucinating completely. There may be some truth to what is going on around me. I just do not know how.

I stir, just slightly, and find that he is still beside me. He has remained sitting on the floor for however long I have been out, and now lifts his head off the couch cushion, like he has been awake and anticipating my return to consciousness the entire time. Our eyes meet. I feel like I could die right there, because it suddenly hurts to breathe when he smiles so gently at me. When was the last time something was gentle? When someone smiled?

"Desdemona," he whispers again, his smile still quirking across his lips. I used to love that smile - I used to kiss it when I was young. "You're awake."

I say nothing - I cannot speak. I am enthralled simply watching him. I have not seen another person in so long, much less this person, the one I would have given several lifetimes to see. And he says my name so tenderly. No one has said my name in many, many years.

"Are you warm?" I force myself to nod - I get by with one sharp up-and-down movement of my head, then have to stop. He tucks the blanket in around my legs more tightly anyway. "Here - you'll need to drink this..." He reaches around to his side and produces a mug of something, which he points a wand to - when did he get a wand? - and mutters "Calfacio."

With one arm behind my shoulders he sits me a little more upright; with the other he leads the mug to my mouth, and I put my hands around its outside first to feel the warmth I know will be there. I forget to drink, at first, I am so astounded by its warmth. Things have all been cold for a long time now. Some of the liquid dribbles down my chin, but Sirius tilts the mug back slowly so I may drink it all. It has a bitter taste to it, but something sweet far beneath it.

He wipes the liquid off my face, helping me lie back down. "Tastes bloody awful, I know, but it'll help you. I promise...herbal tea and a chocolate infusion. Remus's mad about making us drink it. Healing properties and all." Then he smiles again, and brushes a strand of hair off of my forehead. His fingers are warm, and although the skin is not soft, the touch is. It is comforting.

I finally speak. "Where are we?" I ask through thick lips.

"Remus's house." His eyes are deeper than when we were children, I notice. His hands do not leave my face. "And you're safe, Des. I promise. You'll never go back there."

I do not have to ask where 'there' is. I already know. It makes me shiver, even beneath the blankets and strange robes, which I suddenly realize I am wearing. "Ha...how?" I breathe, half in fear, half in lingering exhaustion.

"You're tired," he realizes, not answering my question. "I know you'll have questions, but trust me, you need to rest. That's the most important thing to do at first. Rest and I'll answer all your questions. Promise."

I nod my head in assent, but my eyes will not close - as if they are afraid they will lose sight again, forever, after being given the gift of seeing Sirius, of seeing anything, again after so long. "...can't..." I whisper.

"I'll be right here."

"...can't...how?"

"I promise I'll answer all your questions soon, Des."

"...how - sleep?"

His face crumples. "How do you sleep," he repeats, and I worry vaguely that I have upset him. "You let go, but only for a little while." He is kneeling above me, his face gentler than anything I have ever seen. "And you close your eyes." He uses his thumb to brush my eyelids downward, then seals them both with two gentle kisses - mere brushes of his lips. "And you just...sleep."

"Don't leave," I whisper, obediently keeping my eyes closed.

I feel him climb onto the couch, lying behind me, pulling the blanket around both of us. His legs intertwine with mine, his arm drapes across my waist, my head is nestled into the safety of the spot between his arm and the pillow. "I won't leave," he sighs. "I'll stay here with you. I promise."

I sense his heartbeat slow, his breathing even out. I know he is falling into sleep. But still I cannot - I cannot give myself over to that senselessness again, not yet, not when I have just regained those senses. Finally I am brave enough to open my eyes again, and I stare around the room with wide eyes, though I clutch at the blanket he has draped over me. I pull the fabric up to my chin, as if I were a child protecting myself from monsters. How ironic. If I am at Remus Lupin's residence, and Sirius Black is lying beside me, then I am with the monsters already: a werewolf and an escaped murderer. Am I a monster myself?

Though I do not close my eyes willingly, I begin to see other things. Visions? Nightmares? I do not know; they do not even have form. But they are the specters that occupied my every thought when I was in the prison. My body jerks of its own accord, disturbing Sirius from his sleep.

"'S wrong?" he murmurs, pulling me closer to him.

"...can't sleep," I say, very softly, as if not to alert some guardian spying on us. Prison life is still in my blood; I fear it will always be there. I will never be free, never, I think, and I giggle slightly. "Can't sleep. Not free. Never free."

"You are free," he insists, holding me. It feels so good to be held - this is heaven, paradise, nirvana, every happy place imaginable. This is a miracle, a dream standing boldly in the face of Azkaban.

I do not respond, but instead mouth his name: Sirius. I do not give my voice to his name, but my mouth forms the word, a thousand times over, just to be able to say it and not fear that the Dementors will snatch the very name from my head. Then I actually say it: "Sirius."

"Hmm?" He is not asleep, but he is much closer to it than I am.

"...dunno what happened...but thank you." My eyes well up with tears - another sensation I had long forgotten. Tears. "Thank you."

Now I have his attention, though I did not want to disturb him. He lifts his head and kisses my cheek very gently, and I feel something moist on his face - a tear. He remembers how to cry as well.

"I will never leave you, Des. I could not leave you there."

"Sirius..." I whisper.

"Desdemona."

Someone remembered me.