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The night was cold, abnormally so, with thick ocean wind blowing through his hair. The sky looked bruised that night, a deep purple bleeding into black. The sea heaved against the shore, restless as if it, too, wanted to swallow something whole.
Remus had followed his gut — or maybe something else, some instinct, some tether he didn’t understand, something similar to the invisible string theory in a more mangled, intangible way. He wasn’t meant to be here, not at the beach, not without telling anyone. But he saw it by the shore, ankle-deep in the water, standing with their back to him, curly hair blowing gently.
“Regulus?” Remus did not press; it was not in his nature, but something about the current situation felt bigger than his personal beliefs. “What are you doing here?”
The younger Black turned his head to look Remus in his eyes as he approached. “Doing all the things for the better.” He dropped his head again, staring down at the soft waves hitting against his legs.
“Don’t.” Remus simply grabbed his wrist when he tried to take another step.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to do, Remus.” They looked at each other as a silent tear fell down Regulus’ cheek.
“Don’t do that. Don’t assume,” he took a deep breath to steady himself once again. “I shouldn’t be here for the same reason you shouldn’t. I know, Reg. I know.” His voice caught on the last few words, willing him to stop.
Regulus stood still, as if Medusa herself looked him in the eyes and turned him to stone. More tears ran down his face now, but rather than a droplet like before, he choked out sobs. “Please. Please, Remus.”
Remus pulled Regulus back to shore with him, crouching down to let him use his body as a crutch. They sat down together gently. Remus laid his legs out in front of him, allowing them to stretch and to calm the aching pains that shot through his legs to his hips. Regulus sat with his knees close to his chest, shaking violently.
Remus slipped his coat off, passing it to Regulus as he scooted closer. “Here.” Regulus put it on gratefully.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to witness me in… such a state,” Regulus muttered. Remus looked at him, contemplating what to say next.
“Why do you think I’m not supposed to come to the beach anymore, Reg?” Remus merely shrugged. “I know what it’s like to feel different. The crushing feeling of never being able to feel happy when where you are now is the happiest everyone else has ever been. The fact that no matter how hard you try, the anxiety never goes away.”
Regulus let out a soft whimper. “Major depression, Remus. I don’t just have fucking depression; apparently it’s major.”
“So I’ve heard. It’s similar to a tornado, correct? Or a twister, whatever you prefer.” The lightheartedness in which Remus was saying things brought Regulus ease. Remus watched as his shoulders slowly dropped once again.
“It lives inside your heart, your mind, every crevice that it can find.” Regulus let out a small hiccup, his cheeks stained and eyes puffy. Remus simply nodded.
“Anxiety. General, social, all of the bullshit.” Remus pulled out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket, along with the lighter. They were just barely damp enough that they would still light, producing a thick stream of smoke from Remus’ mouth after he took a puff. “We’re not alone, you know.”
“I’m aware.” Regulus says quietly, as if he knows but can’t stand to believe it.
“Are you?” Remus raises an eyebrow.
“You tell me.”
“James has ADHD, and Sirius has PTSD, as we both know. I’m fairly certain Crouch has BPD, Evan has anger issues of some sort, very similar to Marlene in that sense, and Pandora has autism. I could go on, but I don’t think you want to hear me dissect our friends’ disorders or worse, our own.” Regulus looks at Remus with the same face Sirius gives him when he’s absolutely defeated. “What?”
“Thank you, Remus. No one has ever made me feel so…”
“Seen?”
“Mm, yes. That.” Remus let out a small chuckle, and Regulus laughed along with him. “Pass me that.” Remus gave him that cigarette and pulled out another one, sitting in silence as the two smoked together.
Remus blew a smoke ring. “If you ever, ever do it, I’m going down with you.”
“No, Remus—”
“Stop, Regulus. I am. If you speak, then I would move.” Regulus had stopped crying by then, but small tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.
“Then in that case, I would run right where you are.” Remus let a smile spread across his face.
“If you ever need me, Regulus, you can find me at the beach. In every life, through every door. Alright?”
“Alright.” Regulus let a small smile dance at the corners of his lips.
-ˏˋ★ˊˎ-
“He hasn’t answered, Sirius.” Remus paced anxiously around the living room, chewing the inside of his cheek. It was not a regular thing that Remus did, pacing, that is. See, his pain in his knees tended to stop him, or the incessant popping of his hip. But that day? He was far too worried.
His friends sat around the room. Sirius lay on the floor, fingers drumming in a fluid motion. James was on the couch, bouncing his leg while running his hands through his hair. Both their phones were currently hidden, courtesy of Lily, to stop them from constantly checking. Fortunately, she left Remus with his.
Mary sat next to James on the couch with Lily in front of her on the floor, cross-legged, while she braided Lily’s hair then undid the braid, over and over again. Marlene was sitting upside down in the lounge chair, head to head with Sirius. Peter was making tea in the kitchen.
“Don’t you think we all know that by now, Moony? You don’t have to worry about him,” Peter yelled. Remus merely scoffed. They didn’t understand; they never really would to some extent. They didn’t know Regulus’ history in the same way. They didn’t know about his late calls the night before.
“He's probably just having a lie-in on a Saturday. Is that so abnormal?” Lily said, currently waiting for Mary to start two new french braids with her hair.
“Yes. He doesn’t fucking lie-in, Lily!” Remus hissed through clenched teeth. Everyone went silent as Remus breathed heavily from the effort.
Remus choked on his fresh tears. “I… I’m sorry. I need to go to his house.” Lily nodded, not offended by the sudden breaking point that had hit. Remus went to the door slowly and began sliding on his shoes.
“We’re coming.” Sirius and James sat up immediately, ready to go with him at any moment. “We’re his brother and boyfriend, after all.”
“No. No, you’re not going. You don’t understand how he is right now.” Remus shook his head, shoving his keys in his pocket as he opened the door.
“You can’t stop us.”
“Too fucking late.” He slammed the door behind him.
-ˏˋ★ˊˎ-
Remus limped to the door with speed — he never should’ve started pacing. He slid the newfound house key into the lock and made his way through the first floor, looking anywhere and everywhere, ripping through the house. The search produced nothing, forcing him onto the second floor.
“Regulus?!” Remus shouted as he struggled his way up the stairs. Fuck staircases. This is why he and Sirius chose to have a bungalow.
Remus pushed his way towards the master bedroom, throwing the door open and putting his hands over his ears after it loudly slammed against the wall behind it.
A subtle groan came from the bed on the other side of the room, causing Remus to rush over and drop to his knees next to the figure of Regulus under his sheets in bed.
“Remus? Why the hell are you in my house?” Regulus mumbled as he sat up.
“Oh, thank fuck you’re alive.” Remus let out a relieved sigh, leaning against the wall behind him.
“Why would I not be, asshole?” Regulus rolled his eyes, throwing off the covers from his bed with bravado.
“I never knew you had such a filthy mouth.” The two laughed.
“I apologize for worrying you, Remus. You had plans with the others, did you not?” Remus shook his head.
“That’s inconsequential. I had plans with you, too. Don’t scare me like that again, Reg.” Regulus dropped down from the bed to sit next to Remus at his level. His hair was frizzy while he wore James’ thick hoodie and Remus’ pajama pants. His head fell onto Remus’ shoulder gently.
“You love me like my mother never did, Remus.” He smiled only a little, but it was still sad. Remus wrapped his arm around him.
“I swear I’ll give you more than I have already, Regulus.” He laid his head on top of the one that sat on his shoulder like a featherweight.
“You’ve already given me so much already; you just don’t know it yet. All I ask is you don’t leave, alright?” Regulus choked on the last words, and it took everything in Remus to not say I make no promises.
“I won’t.” Remus smiled as Regulus relaxed, trying his best to ignore the tear that slipped down his cheek. “I promise.”
-ˏˋ★ˊˎ-
Remus was not okay. He’s always known that, yes, but when you're hyperventilating on the floor of your bathroom over past traumas when home alone, there is a kind of realization that dawns on you.
His chest is tight, and his throat is resistant to simply letting air through his lungs at a normal pace. If he’s not choking on each breath, what’s the point?
He reaches out a hand to grapple for his phone, sliding his hand across the cool tile until it makes contact. He tries his best to unlock it through shaky hands and blurring tears while also reading over the several missed calls from Regulus. He navigates to the call app and taps on Regulus’ contact.
It only takes half a ring. “Remus? Remus, are you alright?”
“Mhmm— quite, yea— eugh!” Remus does his best to make some kind of sound through the pain wracking through his fucked up body and the air that won’t come.
“I’m leaving now.” Remus can hear Regulus grabbing his keys from their hook by the door and yelling to somebody that he has to go. It’s not surprising; it is a Friday night at midnight in London. Remus had a muffled thought that he was supposed to be there with Sirius before he drops his phone from the shooting pains that come up from the lower half of his body, making him throw his head back, all thoughts discarded.
At some point, Remus is aware that the call ends, but his body feels so physically and mentally out of his control he doesn’t have the energy to notice. Remus knows the pain he feels is not normal by any standard, but everything to help him is so far out of his reach, and getting up is out of the picture.
In the foyer, the key turns in the lock, and Remus can hear the door slam shut as Regulus scrambles through the house to find him. When he finally stumbles into the bathroom, the look on his face hits Remus like a truck.
He’s aware that being seen like this is shocking, and he would usually have far too much pride to ask for help. Remus is positioned with his back against the wall, legs bent slightly off to the side while they’re stretched in front of him. One hand is to his chest, while the other is being used to support his hip. He’s currently reduced to a shirtless, messy haired, scarred and tear stained freak.
“Remus…” Regulus bends down to Remus’ level and begins to try and steady his breathing. “In and out, okay, Remus? It’ll be over soon; this is only temporary.” Remus’ breathing calms down and turns back to what is decently normal.
“Thank you,” Remus chokes out.
Regulus simply ignores the comment and moves onto his next task. “Listen, this may hurt, but I’m going to sit you up rather than have you half lying down. Are you ready, Remus?”
He nods as a response before Regulus slides an arm behind his back, and Remus’ body involuntarily twitches away.
“I’m sorry,” Remus grumbles out.
“It’s… fine.” Regulus takes his arm away and busies himself with getting pain medication from the cabinet above the sink.
“My medication should be on the left side. Ibuprofen doesn’t work anymore; it stopped working years ago. Naproxen is for my knees; I’m too young for hip surgery.” He lets out a groan.
“You’re twenty-three.” Regulus raises an accusatory eyebrow.
“You can only have — fuck! — two in a lifetime, so they wait as long as possible...” He trails off as he throws his head back again from another pain spasm.
Regulus shrugs off his jacket and sits next to him with the medication. “Can you take it dry?” Remus puts his hand out as a response, popping the pill quickly.
Remus sits up with a low moan escaping from his lips, hip popping again.
“You didn’t have to come.” Regulus simply scoffs.
“And then what would you have done? Most likely passed out from pain and lack of air flow, no?” Remus looks down, biting his lip. “That’s what I thought.”
They both stay silent for a while, letting both of them regain their calm.
“What happened, Remus?”
“That’s in reference to what part, exactly?” He chews the inside of his cheek, already anxious about the upcoming conversation. The reaction is never good.
“Well, everything, I suppose. The scars, the knees, the hip, the panic attack, all of it.” Regulus adjusts himself to sit across from him and make direct eye contact. “One at a time, whatever you prefer.”
Remus takes a prolonged, deep breath. “The scars are from child abuse. Not my father— my mother. Though she died. As long as I don’t see her in hell, the only fuck I give about her is the shit she’s done to make me look so horrific.” He gags a little on the inside when he thinks about his own body.
“Horrific is not the word I would use, but go on.” Regulus provides a soft smile for comfort. Remus doesn’t have the energy for one in return.
“Yes, well… The knees and hips are biological or some shit. Chronic pain is a zero out of ten experience, do not recommend.” Remus laughed at himself a little for that. “And the panic attack was an accumulation of all of it. Everything is so intense and fucking horrendous to the point of it feeling like wolves are at my neck.”
Remus choked somewhat, unable to say more. He can’t talk about that yet.
“That doesn’t make you disgusting, Remus. It makes you strong beyond belief. Not many would be able to take the pain you suffer from and turn it into something livable.” If only he knew, Remus thinks, though he wouldn’t dare say it.
“We’ve all got shit inside our hearts, though. Mine is only miniscule compared.” Remus looks over himself, at his puckered scars and bruised joints.
“Qui craint de souffrir, il souffre déjà de ce qu'il craint.” Regulus sighs.
“Wha—?”
Regulus giggles. Remus didn’t realize he could giggle. “He who fears suffering is already suffering that which he fears. It’s a line attributed to the famous seventeenth-century French writer Jean de la Fontaine; it highlights how the fear of pain can be a form of pain in itself. It highlights yourself, Remus.”
Remus finally looks up, making eye contact with Regulus for one of the first times. He has a sort of twinkle in his eye that he didn’t have long ago, the kind that Remus wants back.
“Don’t you have plans?”
“Don’t you?” Regulus props his arm onto the closed toilet lid, his head falling into his palm gracefully.
“Fuck, sorry I didn’t go.” Remus runs a hand over his face.
“Do you remember what you said to me on the beach?” Remus shakes his head while Regulus nods, turning away.
“You said that no matter how hard you try, the anxiety never goes away, and if I ever, ever did it, you were going down with me.” Remus nearly pukes from the truth of his old, reused words. “The anxiety has gone away for me, Remus, but not for you. It’s quite alright, but stop acting like you are expendable. If you do it, I’m going down with you.”
Tears spill over the waterline of Remus’ eyes. They turn into an uncontrollable storm, one that cannot be tamed. “You know, don’t you?”
“I’ve always known what you were planning. I know who you are.” Regulus’ own tears run down his cheeks silently as he chokes out the words. “You’ll be fine. So don’t go, for all of us, don’t leave. It's not your time.” Remus wipes his tears, trying his hardest to ignore Reg’s pleas.
“Pass me a shirt, would you?” And that was that.
-ˏˋ★ˊˎ-
Regulus stood along the surf, waves softly lapping up against his bare feet. Regulus liked to think that before he chose to swim out as far as he did, he thought about not doing it. Hopefully he thought about going back, he thought about recovery, and he thought about just trying like he promised; Remus was never known to keep promises.
Regulus imagined seeing Remus standing beside him, but the only difference was a holy kind of light behind his figure. And no, Remus had not passed yet, but he knew what it meant when a doctor tells you they’re in “serious condition” and to just “wait one more week for them to wake up.” Sirius didn’t know, nor James or even Lily. But Regulus did and does. Remus will not wake up in a week or a few, because eventually he will sleep forever.
And Regulus can hold out hope, just like everybody else does, but it won’t do anything in the end. So for everyone else, he will continue to put on a brave face. He’ll wipe away James’ tears late at night, bring Sirius different things he bakes, tell people how to handle fear rather than the grief he’s already having to process because he needs to.
But when Regulus wakes up in the morning and goes through his day until he sleeps at night, he can’t see and he can’t feel except to see the colour of Remus’ eyes and feel Remus’ hair, or scars, or thick jumpers like the one he wears now. He can hear Remus’ voice behind every single decision he makes and the ones he doesn’t too.
Truthfully, they were robbed of all the times they could’ve had together, but the universe decided to steal it all away too soon. When Regulus goes to sleep at night after visiting Remus’ limp and slowly decaying body, his dreams come up empty, and he always ends up washed up on the shore.
So, here he is now, just like all of the times before. This night is no different than any other, other than the fact that Regulus finally decided to confront his feelings. He misses Remus, and he always will, because it's the same as the stars needing a moon. They are inevitably stuck together forever.
In every life, through every door.
-ˏˋ★ˊˎ-
Regulus went to the hospital as often as allowed, wanting to get a glimpse of Remus and remember him in vivid detail when he was gone.
The first time Regulus met Lyall Lupin at the hospital, he wanted to spit on him. Punch, yell, do something to get the motherfucker to leave. Lyall did not know Remus, he barely kept in touch. If anything, Remus purposefully kept out of touch, and Regulus knew.
He knew how Lyall left him to be treated by Hope, knew how he left when he was always needed most.
The second time, Regulus decided to be empathetic and speak with him. The last time, Lyall told him how he kept an old boombox at his house for Remus. He didn’t know Remus preferred vinyls much more than something like a CD or cassette. Regulus didn’t want to taint the memory.
He wouldn’t have many to remember soon enough. It would have been no use. Let a father believe he has something existent with his son when there is really nothing but discarded crumbs.
The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.
-ˏˋ★ˊˎ-
After Remus died, nobody was stable enough to go and confirm that the body in the morgue was, in fact, Remus John Lupin. Nobody was stable enough to say that was Remus John Lupin, the little boy that would hand out bandaids to kids his age because he thought everyone went through what he did, so he wanted them to be safe and healthy even if he wasn’t. Nobody was stable enough to say that was Remus John Lupin, the young boy who made it through school with the money he made on his own because his parents never would. Nobody but Regulus.
As Regulus took the elevator with one of the primary doctors down to the morgue, he felt ready. He knew what Remus looked like, knew how cold he would feel, but in reality he was not ready to see one of his closest companions being prepared to be burnt to ashes once he left.
“I must warn you, this can be a disturbing sight for some. Nobody will blame you if you would like to leave or do this at a later date.” The doctor shuffled uncomfortably beside him, trying to give some reassurance.
Regulus simply shook his head. He already knew what his role was. He would plan the funeral, he would make arrangements, he would fill the paperwork required, he would confirm the dead body rotting below.
So though he felt ready, when Regulus came face to face with Remus’ cold, stiff body, he could do nothing but cry. He could do nothing but nod and choke out a spit filled yes when asked if it really was Remus.
-ˏˋ★ˊˎ-
Every night in his nightmares, Regulus returns to the night of while he wakes up in a cold sweat before cuddling closer to James. And Regulus can keep waking up, keeping wrapping himself in the warm comfort of James’ arms, but it will never fix how engrained the memory is. He knows it like the back of his hand, like James’ dimples, like Barty’s loud laugh or Pandora’s fluid way of speaking. In a way, he knows it like he knows himself; he knows nothing at all.
“Hello?” Regulus woke up groggy, answering his phone at three AM.
“This is him.” Regulus went silent before choking out a small croak. “Pardon me? He’s where? And what has— what has happened?”
A tear fell down his cheek and he got up to start gathering clothes. It was clear to him that he would be up for a while.
“Thank you for calling me. Myself and my partner will be there as soon as possible.” Regulus hung up the phone and called James. It took two rings, even though it was late and he was with Sirius.
“Remus tried to drown himself.”
-ˏˋ★ˊˎ-
Regulus parked sloppily and ran out from his car right up to the caution tape, pushing intruding civilians out of the way. His eyes looked for James immediately. They caught him on the other side of the surrounded area, asking a policeman a question.
He looked up and their eyes stuck. Regulus dived under the tape, despite the yelling around him, and crashed into James’ arms as they collided. Tears fell softly atop Regulus’ head and a wet patch began to spread on James’ sweater.
Regulus looked up as they parted. “I’m sorry, James. I’m so sorry, Jamie.”
“I am so, so sorry, my love.” James wiped his tears away for him.
They both struggled with the words.
-ˏˋ★ˊˎ-
The pair stood off to the side as Sirius yelled at the paramedics, willing them to just let him see Remus. They didn’t part for him until Regulus and James confirmed who they all were.
When they made it through the crowd to the ambulance, it was very obvious to Regulus that Remus would not make it. The sight itself shocked him, before wracking his body with violent sobs that James had stopped by holding him.
The person before them was cold, lips glowing blue. They were told he was in “critical condition” and now had shallow breathing. He had been unconscious since they found him and when being resuscitated, he merely spit out water before going back to his original state.
Sirius sat with him in the ambulance and cried while holding his dying boyfriend. James held Regulus’ hand as they drove to the hospital, his boyfriend dying in a different sense.
-ˏˋ★ˊˎ-
The hospital waiting room was cold and bleak in the early morning. Regulus shivered under James’ hoodie while James held him tight. His warmth bled through him into the cracks of Regulus’ body with ease. Sirius was currently talking to nurses, establishing paperwork and medical care for the coming times ahead.
“How are you, love?” Regulus whispered into James’s chest.
James cleared his throat, leaving Regulus to feel a small rumble against his cheek. “It could be better, but at least he’s alive. He’s gonna make it, right?”
“Yes, baby, of course.” Regulus couldn’t bring himself to disappoint.
“Do you want to talk about it or just stare at the wall?” James twisted a lock of Regulus’ hair with his fingers, the curls falling back against his head in a wave.
“Mmm, just stare, perha—”
“Excuse me, Mr. Black and Mr. Potter? We have some news.” The two sat up, grabbing the other's hand and holding on as if their lives depended on it. As if Remus’ depended on it.
“Mr. Lupin is in serious condition. Though he is currently unconscious, it is more likely than not that he will make it.” James took off his glasses, the lenses fogging up from tears.
“Thank you. That will be all.” Regulus dismissed the nurse, who went back to Sirius who looked more hopeful than he had ever been in his whole life.
James kissed Regulus and reassured him that he would “be right back” before going off to Sirius. They embraced and Sirius shook in his arms. They were happy, they were genuine and they had hope.
But Regulus? Regulus sat with his knees to his chest, all too aware of what was going to happen. He knew better than what they think they call.
-ˏˋ★ˊˎ-
The funeral ceremony consisted of speeches and luminaries lining the hallway of the rented space that Regulus rented for the occasion. Remus was not a religious person, and it felt disrespectful.
The current reception was too much for Regulus. For most of the people there, they barely knew Remus. They didn’t know how whenever Remus left the house without prior planning he felt like he would throw up. They didn’t know how to help stabilize him so his hip wouldn’t pop so aggressively. For them, Remus was nobody. No one is all he’ll ever be.
But for Regulus, who currently stood in front of an empty casket, that was not the case. He remembered when Remus would always give Regulus his books because he just knew that he would “love them” and he always did. Regulus would read the notes in the margins and smile to himself over the stupidest of things. He remembered when Remus gave him twenty-two different types of tea for his birthday; a different kind for every year. He remembered the first time he hinted at anything being wrong, asking Remus if he, too, felt like he was drowning and nobody noticed. Remus replied with, “every day.” Now, looking back, it’s cinematic how it played out.
So how could Remus be no one when he’s everything to Regulus? He fell into his knees in front of the casket, James running to him immediately as uncontrollable sobs echoed through his body. How was Regulus supposed to live without him? What is he supposed to do now that his spark is gone and Remus was the one that brought it back?
“Reg? Reggie? Please, look at me. Don’t focus on everyone, just look at me.” Regulus looked up at James, his face cupped in his hands. People around began to move away, Sirius close to the front of the crowd, along with his friends. He couldn’t bring himself to care.
“He’s everything to me, James. Everything.” He choked around the thick words.
“I know, my love. I know.” James pulled him closer as he began to feel everything go incredibly numb.
He was everything to him. Was.
-ˏˋ★ˊˎ-
It had been almost a year since Remus passed, or at least since he committed, and a year since the first beach encounter. It was the start of it all.
Regulus sat with his toes buried in the sand, his phone resting in his palm beside him.
“I miss you, Remus.” He pressed play on the old voicemail.
Remus’ message began to play, his voice tinny and modified from the speaker. There was a slight ruffle before Remus began to speak.
“Hey, Reg. I just wanna say I love you one more time. I love you. Goodbye!”
A tear fell down Regulus’ cheek, hitting the sand to fill the silence as the voicemail stopped.
At the beach, in every life.
Remus was never good at making promises, was he?