Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own Remus and Sirius. If I did, though, it would look a bit like this. I torture the poor babies because I love them.

A/N: 1) This could be a triggering fic, as is said ^up there. Attempted suicide, nothing too specific, but the warning is there.

2) Basically, Remus is tired of everything, and ready to go. Sirius doesn't want this to happen. Wolfstar, slash, oneshot. Rated M only because adult themes.

3) I'm working through some shite right now, so this was more of a therapeutic fic than anything else. Just thought I'd put it up because it actually turned out pretty good.

4) All of my work is unbetaed. Just me and my own editing. So I do apologise for any Americanisms or mistakes.

Everything had all finally become too much. Between his lycanthropy, his schoolwork that he always had to work so hard on to perfect, the daunting prospect of life after Hogwarts, and his ever increasing feelings for a one Sirius Black, his best mate that he felt a lot… more for, and that had also been treating him as a lot less than a mate, even, as of late. The increasing distance between them only served as the last straw to send him over the edge.

He told himself it would be better this way. No one needed him anyways. It would just be better to get it over with, and put himself and anyone else who had to live with him out of their misery.

It took him four weeks to get ahold of the poison he wanted to use. He couldn't do it any other way: Too much of a chance of being discovered, being 'saved' by someone who believed they were doing good instead of simply prolonging his suffering. Another full moon passed in this time, and Sirius grew even more distant than he'd already been, causing Remus to believe it was a sign that he was making the right decision.

He wrote his note with shaking fingers, pushing auburn hair out of his face as he reread the deadly words penned by his own hand. The parchment was laid to rest on Sirius' bedside table, with the intention of the black-haired teen finding it when he woke up. He gave one last look around at the sleeping forms of his (former) companions before slipping out of the dormitory for what would be the last time.

He'd decided that the Shrieking Shack would be the place to do it. It was ironic, really, if one was to give it any thought: The place where he endured all of his pain every month was now where his suffering was going to come to an end. He'd explained everything to Sirius (and the others, of course, but mostly Sirius) in the note, knowing that he wouldn't be around to explain. Not this time.

The bare bed, with the creaking frame and ripped up mattress from countless transformations, beckoned to him, and he sat softly upon it. There was no fear, no tears. Only acceptance, a certain waiting that came with things that could not be dreaded no matter how much one tried. The movements as he shifted were dreamlike. This whole experience was surreal, he decided, and pointedly ignored the part of his brain that told him this was all going to be gone very soon. There were to be no regrets.

He pulled the potion out of his pocket, studying the little bottle it was currently inside of. A sick, twisted part of him wanted to laugh. It was amazing, how one tiny sip from this vial of seemingly normal liquid would finally give him the peace he so wanted, he so needed.

Uncorking the vial was too easy, child's play when you had the strength of a werewolf and the resolve of a damned man. Taking a deep breath and recognising it as one of his last, he raised the vial slightly, a silent toast to himself, though Merlin knew he didn't deserve any sort of commemoration at all. He brought it slowly to his lips, savouring his last moments with the living—


The cry startled him and he jerked his hand, eyes widening as some of the poison spilled onto the floor at his feet. He glanced up, expression akin to that of a frightened child caught with his hand in the cookie jar before supper before he could smooth his features.

"Sirius," he greeted, voice surprisingly steady for what he'd been about to do.

Sirius ignored the greeting, eyes wild. "Remus, did you drink any of that?" he demanded.

Remus looked down, but didn't answer, words escaping him under the crazed gaze of the youth he'd fallen in love with so long ago. Sirius crossed the room in three long strides, gripping Remus' shoulders and forcing their eyes to meet. "Look at me, damn it! Did you drink it?!"

Remus swallowed hard, and then slowly shook his head. "No," he whispered.

Sirius breathed a heavy sigh of relief, collapsing onto the bed beside Remus and pulling the vial from his unresisting fingers. He threw it into a corner, hands shaking. Remus couldn't even find it in himself to protest. His attempt at death had been thwarted. Maybe he shouldn't have left a note.

Sirius pulled Remus into his arms, and Remus was surprised to feel the tremours wracking the body of the other boy. It had affected him, apparently, more than Remus would ever have suspected.

Sirius didn't speak until his arms were tightly around Remus, holding him very close in his lap, face in his hair. "Don't you ever do something like this again. Jesus bloody fuck, Moony," he whispered in addition.

Remus buried his own face in Sirius' chest, feeling the shuddering and realising that he was shaking now as well.

"I th-thought you were asleep…" Remus whispered. Sirius shook his head, clinging onto him tightly.

"No. Haven't slept right in ages. Woke up properly when you left the dorm." There was a slight pause, in which Sirius gathered himself as much as he could. "How… Why would you…" he couldn't do it. Saying it made it more real than it already was.

"I'm tired, Padfoot," Remus whispered into Sirius' shirt. "Everything hurts and I'm tired."

Sirius let out a noise that sounded very much like a sob, except that this was Sirius. And Sirius never sobbed. Remus risked a look up at him

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sirius asked, brushing the back of his hand down the side of Remus' face in a tender gesture. In turn, Remus shivered, and his eyes fluttered shut.

"D-Didn't think you'd care…" he mumbled. He heard Sirius take in a sharp breath, but didn't open his eyes to see the shocked expression.

"Moony… I care. Of course I care," Sirius whispered, leaning their foreheads together. The warm breath against his lips made Remus look at the other boy, shock plain on his face. What was he doing?

"You… You've been avoiding me… I thought…"

"Sod what you thought, Moony. You think too much," Sirius interrupted gently. He seemed to debate for a moment, and then suddenly took his own advice, closing the already incredibly short distance between them and pressing his lips to Remus' in a tender kiss.

Remus' eyes widened before they closed on their own accord. The way Sirius was moving his lips… But the situation! Not only had Sirius stopped him from offing himself, but now… This? Kissing him? By the time his normally quick mind had processed this bit of information, Sirius had pulled away, looking flushed.

"I'll always care, Moons," he murmured, and suddenly, there were tears in Remus' eyes, and he once again buried his face in Sirius' shirt. Gasping for air and choking on sobs, he finally allowed himself to let go. Every pent up emotion that he'd forced himself to push away in the last few months now came back a hundredfold.

But it didn't matter. Because Sirius was there and Sirius was holding him and Sirius was murmuring comfort into his ear. Sirius was pressing kisses to the top of his head, his forehead, his temples. Sirius cared.

"Sirius… Padfoot, oh God, Sirius…" Remus was unaware of the words he was saying, of the way he was repeating Sirius' name like a prayer. His clenched fists clutched at the bottom of Sirius' shirt, needing to feel him, to be close to him. It was too much for one night. Sirius held him close, letting him cry, letting him let go.

When Remus finally looked up again, his eyes were red and puffy, and his cheeks were wet from tears that he didn't bother to try to hide. Neither of them cared in the least. Remus was amazed that this was happening to him, and Sirius was just happy that Remus, the boy he'd loved for two years now, was still alive and breathing and there.

And when Remus pressed his lips to Sirius' once again, both of them knew that their lives could only get better from there.


A/N:Yeah, it ended in a cliche. I wanted/needed something a little fluffy to end it. Anyways, R&R would be appreciated? Thanks for reading!