small_gifts | fic: we'll go (and we'll go and we'll go) for sambethe

crooked.livejournal.com posting in

small_gifts

Title: we'll go (and we'll go and we'll go)
Author:

crooked
Written for:

sambethe
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: 1000 Miles Per Hour, by OK Go; life during wartime; boys in love without being saccharine ~~though it might be too subtle for anyone without my brain to pick up on it?~~.
Summary: Sometimes it’s neither the big nor the little things — but rather the smothering combination of both — that adds up to a desperate need to escape.
Any other notes, warnings, etc.: much thanks to

chrliii &

trolliepop for the betas! and i really hope you like it, Kris! happy holidays ♥

i. 27 november 1978

Sirius sits in the corner reading Pride and Prejudice, and Remus has half a mind to say something about it but decides to just smirk to himself instead. He already knows what Sirius will say — 'Look, Moony, it was just sitting there, and I'm bored as hell. This mission is the least exciting thing we've ever done. What was I meant to do?' — so there's really no point. Remus knows the truth, however; Sirius' look of intense concentration tells him that he's positively enthralled by Jane Austen's words and, if he knows him at all, Mr Darcy.

Perhaps a little teasing wouldn't hurt.

"It's a truth universally acknowledged," he begins, pretending not to be watching out of the corner of his eye, "that a single man in possession of a Jane Austen book must be rather queer."

Sirius jumps slightly, closing the book to look at its cover as if he'd no idea what he'd been reading. "Shut up, arse," he says, scowling. He tosses the book down, and Remus allows himself a little laugh. "It was just there, and I was practically near death from the boredom. It's not like I was enjoying it."

"Of course not."

"Sorry I don't get off on libraries," he continues, and Remus can only laugh more. "I had to make do. Bloody fucking research. Research, Moony. Why would Moody think to send us on a goddamn research mission?"

Remus looks up from the Big Dusty Book of Words with a sigh. "Because everything can't be excitement and battle, Sirius. What we're doing is important."

"What we're doing," Sirius continues to sulk, "is boring."

Sighing, Remus goes back to leafing through the various tomes, jotting down notes here and there, feeling like a student again rather than a young soldier at war. Of course, Sirius is right; it's boring as hell. There's not much else they can actually do, though, so Remus never complains - at least not outwardly.

"Anyway, Darcy is an interesting enough bloke."

Remus looks up to find Sirius fingering the spine of the discarded book, and he smiles. "How would you know unless you've read the book before?"

Sirius tries to mask his grin with a scowl. "Shut up."

ii. 06 december 1978

The thirst for something more exciting to do is quelled with a spectacularly bloody wandfight, and neither Sirius nor Remus bring it up later but both miss the library something fierce that night. They're both utterly unprepared for the spells the other side is using, as Defence Against the Dark Arts can really only teach so much. Remus didn't expect the spells that slash like a knife, all the bloodshed he witnesses; he wasn't as ready as he'd thought he would be for the ugly truth of warfare.

It's been an hour since the last Death Eater retreated, neither side claiming victory since both suffered losses. Word comes from Dumbledore to hold tight until further instruction. Peter's flat happens to be the closest, so it ends up serving as a makeshift field hospital for the five of them. Remus looks around the small living room/kitchen/bedroom (it's really just a square room with everything crammed into one space, save for the bathroom): Lily is attending to a wound on James' forehead; Sirius is standing by the window and hissing as he dabs antiseptic on a gash across his bicep; Peter just looks rather lost as he leans over the kitchen sink.

No-one seems to know what to say, so they all stay silent. The occasional glance around the room, eyes meeting and expressing what words cannot, is all that passes between the weary friends. Eventually Peter falls asleep on his couch, and everyone else decides to go their separate ways.

"Be careful," Lily says as she hugs Sirius goodbye, her arms wrapping a bit tighter than before around both of them.

Remus goes straight into the bedroom the moment they get to Sirius' flat. He doesn't have the energy to Apparate home, and he doesn't want to be alone anyway. Sirius strips his shirt off, revealing a bruise that wraps around his side and a few welts across his back. Remus gets a jar of murtlap essence from the bathroom, but Sirius waves him off.

"I just want to sleep, okay?"

Remus nods and crawls into bed with him, his breath taken away with the force of Sirius' arms wrapping around his ribs. There's no mistaking the way he holds him, as if he's never been happier to have Remus alive and by his side.

iii. 15 december 1978

At the meeting, Moody announces that Caradoc Dearborn has gone missing. The uneasy look that James flashes him unsettles Remus; James is always the one who keeps his cool on the outside, even when he's falling apart inside. He reaches out beneath the table and grabs Sirius' hand without thinking about it.

He isn't sure why but it surprises him the slightest bit when Sirius squeezes back.

iv. 23 december 1978

Nothing about the holiday gathering at the Pettigrew home feels very festive, but it's not due to a lack of trying. So, ever the polite young man, Remus forces a grin each time Mrs Pettigrew pushes a tree-shaped Christmas biscuit into his hands. The lights twinkle on the small tree in the corner, adorned with cranberry-and-popcorn tinsel that Remus just knows Peter's mum made him sit down and string for hours.

After a sumptuous meal with all of the traditional trappings, and just before the Christmas pudding is served, Sirius makes his way over to Remus with the wishbone.

"Fancy a go at it?" he asks, twirling the bone between his fingers.

Remus grins and grips one end, closing his eyes to make his wish. "On three," he says, and peeks before he starts to count. Sirius has his eyes closed too, and he's never seen him concentrate on anything harder.

He counts down, they both pull, and the bone snaps cleanly in the middle as both boys make the same wish, though neither of them realises it.

v. 25 december 1978

Remus spends Christmas Day on a mission because war doesn't take a holiday. He wonders what the others are up to at the Potters — whether the Christmas Message has aired (that Mr Potter loves to watch and James loves to mock), if Sirius has eaten too much pudding yet again and is utterly miserable for it, if any of them miss his presence. He takes small comfort in the fact that Peter has a mission of his own to go on. If Remus has to miss Christmas with his friends and family, then at least he’s not the only one. Misery truly does love company.

By the time he gets to his parents' house, his mum and dad are both asleep. Mrs Lupin left a plate in the oven for him, and a few brightly wrapped boxes are piled beneath the small Christmas tree.

With a wistful smile, Remus sits down to his quiet, lonely Christmas dinner.

vi. 01 january 1979

Nine days after Remus and Sirius made their wish, it comes true. Well, it doesn't come true so much as Remus has had enough and makes it happen.

While most other blokes their age are out ringing in the New Year with pints and parties, Remus and Sirius are too busy fighting for their lives to realise that 1979 has even begun. They return to Remus' flat that night, exhausted and sore, and fall into bed just an hour before the sun breaks the horizon.

Not that Remus actually sleeps. He lays beside Sirius, listening to him breathe slowly in the dark. He feels like he has so many things to say, but nothing comes out when he opens his mouth. It's ridiculous the number of things they've been through, and they're only nineteen years old. He knows it's only going to get worse, and Remus decides, as Sirius reaches out in his sleep and curls his fingers over his hip, that he can't afford to sit around and wait for his almost-forgotten wish to come true.

He wakes Sirius up after four hours because he just can't wait any longer. "Get dressed," Remus says, already showered and fully clothed. Sirius sits up, hair at angles Remus didn't know were possible, and rubs at his eyes.

"What?" he croaks, one eye cocked open and face screwed up in a mask of confusion.

"Get your arse up and dressed, Padfoot," Remus repeats. "Hurry up. I'm eons ahead of you as it is."

Sirius rolls out of bed, stumbling toward the bathroom. "That's not too difficult a feat to accomplish, considering I have no bloody idea what's going on," he calls out as Remus hears the shower turn on. "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing’s happened,” Remus calls out, hastily packing a few pairs of trousers, shirts and jumpers for Sirius. His own bag has been packed since six o'clock. "Not yet anyway. Just... just trust me, okay?" The grunt he gets in reply is enough to make him smile to himself; he knows when Sirius is surrendering, even if he often refuses to say it.

By the time Sirius ambles out into the living room, dressed and finally ready to go (he's like a bloody girl with his grooming), Remus is finishing his second cup of tea. He watches as Sirius' eyes travel over to the door, spots the bags placed there.

"Moony?"

"Yeah, I just thought—" Remus begins, but he soon trails off at a loss. He hasn't really thought this far ahead, unused to being quite so spontaneous. Then again, if he had thought it all out it wouldn't be spontaneous at all. "That wish I made at Peter's Christmas party... I'm sort of taking initiative, y'know?"

Sirius just looks back at Remus with a cocked eyebrow and a bemused expression.

He shuffles nervously, wondering if the plan isn't as grand as previously thought. "It's just that we've sort of been robbed of all the things we used to take for granted. I spent Christmas with... Hell, I can't even tell you where I spent Christmas," Remus says with a wry laugh. "And what did we do last night? We weren't getting sloshed off our arses, like normal blokes our age. We were battling it out with dark wizards."

"We're not normal, Moony," Sirius says slowly, and Remus can't stand the way he's looking at him as if he's gone mental (because he fears he probably has). "This is our normal. This is our life."

"But it doesn't have to be, at least not for one day. That's what I wished for, and damn if I don't think we deserve it."

Sirius grins and throws Remus all off course. "S'what I wished for too. Fuck, that makes us the biggest pair of ponces ever." Remus can't help but laugh as Sirius makes his way closer, a hand at his hip while the other curls gently around the back of his neck. "Of course we deserve it, but we’ve made a commitment, Remus, and we can't back out now."

"I'm not saying we abandon the Order or the fight, Padfoot," Remus says, but his lips tangle themselves with Sirius' for a moment, and his words are lost to a slow kiss. He forces himself to pull away. "But we're wizards, right? We can be back in two seconds if they need us. Let's just go."

"Go where?"

"Anywhere that isn't here, or I'm going to go completely mad."

Sirius studies Remus' face carefully for a moment. Remus can't be certain if he's actually considering it or if he's trying to figure out the best way to secure him a padded room in St Mungo's. If he could see what Sirius sees, Remus would see a young man with an expression teetering on the fence between 'at wit's end' and 'on the verge of an emotional breakdown'. After a torturous pause that all but assures Remus that he's going to refuse, Sirius sighs in that little way that tells him everything.

"I do have that motorbike I wanted to work on," Sirius says, and Remus is grinning so wide it almost hurts. "Didn't get any of those charms done, but at least me and Pete got it running. I can't fucking believe I'm letting you talk me into this..."

Remus is too busy waving his wand at their two bags, shrinking them down to pocket-sized parcels, to really hear what Sirius is saying.

A few moments later, Remus slips onto the back of Sirius' bike, arms winding loosely around his waist as Sirius kicks the engine to life. They drive off without the slightest idea where they're going, both agreeing on North as the general direction to head in. The cityscape eventually blurs into stretches of countryside, peppered with small villages in between. In four hours, they find themselves in Sinnington, and Sirius pulls off the highway onto Main Street. It's just barely sunset as he brings the motorbike to a stop in front of the first inn they see.

Desperately in need of a good pint and a good meal, Remus and Sirius take up a table at the back of the inn's pub. A few ales — and the most incredible beer battered Haddock he's ever had — later, Remus decides The Fox and Hounds is as good a place as any to book a room for the night. He leaves Sirius to pick at the last of his chips to find the owners.

No sooner does Remus step outside than a silvery phoenix alights on a brick wall to his left. He glances around in a panic but remembers that charms are in place to ensure Muggle eyes and ears don't play witness to a thing.

"Dorcas Meadowes has been murdered," Dumbledore's voice says, sounding at once as if coming from the wispy creature and entirely detached from it. "Hog's Head, fifteen minutes. Take care you're not followed." The patronus is gone before Remus even has a chance to react.

He stands there in shock for what seems like an age; Meadowes had fought alongside them just last night. He feels the guilt about whining for normalcy in the pit of his stomach. Sirius is coming out of the pub just as Remus' feet finally figure out how to move again. The look on his face says it all.

Sirius hides the bike, physically and magically so he can retrieve it later, beneath an oddly placed packhorse bridge in the middle of the village green. Crouched together in the dark shadow of the stone structure's arch, Sirius reaches out to grasp Remus' arm because he's trembling too much to manage to Apparate on his own.

"I'm sorry," Remus mumbles, shaking his head because he doesn't know what else to do. He doesn't even know why he's apologising, just that he feels he has to say something to fill the awful silence.

"You didn't know," Sirius says, shrugging rather helplessly. He pauses to concentrate, and they appear with a loud pop in Hogsmeade, just outside the Hog's Head. Sirius holds onto Remus' arm a bit longer than he needs to, letting his hand slip down his forearm until their fingers tangle together for a moment.

Remus glances up to meet his gaze. "You were right," he says, a sad look in his eyes, "about this being our normal."

Sirius' joyless smile as they walk inside tells Remus that it's probably the one time he desperately wishes he were wrong.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

mysecretashes.livejournal.com

I really enjoyed reading this. It was obvious that none of them were prepared for the realities of war but were doing their best to adjust. There were undertones of desperate hope and the pain to come, and it seemed very real.

From:

stocking stuffers, more like....

fic: we'll go (and we'll go and we'll go) for sambethe

fic: we'll go (and we'll go and we'll go) for sambethe

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