Blackburn Tower was busy the next morning. The money Remus had brought barely covered enough food to buy supplies to feed everyone there two meager meals. He'd been saving all Summer. He felt frustrated, even as the men and women thanked him profusely, all of them commenting on how good the egg, toast, and beans were that he managed to get.

It seemed so small an offering, but there were tears in the eyes of several people who whispered blessings to him and squeezed his hand as though they'd questioned if they'd ever eat again.

He thought of Verna with the sandwich she'd brought to him during his captivity. What it might have cost her to give it up. Perhaps her life, if he hadn't won against Greyback.

Carl cried deep sobs of gratefulness when Remus handed him a month's supply of Wolfsbane for Storm. The other parents he'd given Wolfsbane to had also cried, swearing fealty to Remus for something so simple as relief for their children. He gave bottles to the oldest members of the community, too, people whose limbs were so tired from life that they didn't need to be suffering during the moon as well.

"Haven't you had access to Wolfsbane before? When Ned was Alpha?" Remus asked, remembering when Slughorn had made it during his seventh year.

"Mr. Veigler was under the imperius fairly quickly, and once he was Greyback was reallocating the potion to his own men."

He used his magic to make everlasting fires in their fireplaces, to warm the Towers up, so that aching joints and bones were not utterly frozen and brittle on top of the pain. Greyback had limited their use of the fireplaces, made them earn their comforts, and their coats and scarves were threadbare from being worn day in and day out, combating against the ferocious cold that whistled through drafty corridors and improperly sealed windows of the old architecture.

He fixed what he could and made lists of things he needed to learn more about or else have another fix if it was something he simply couldn't do.

He could feel their tension in the air, their hesitation to believe he had a heart to make the improvements. He felt the flicker of nervousness when he took their hands, or when he reached for his wand, how they cowered and covered children's eyes.

"Don't be afraid of me," he begged, "Please. I won't hurt you. Any of you."

An old woman whose limbs were gnarled and bent from decades of changes looked up at him through watery eyes. "That's what he said, too, sir."

"But I'm not him," Remus replied gently.

He'd been like that once, thinking anything that anyone did for him had ulterior motive, that they had to be scheming, trying to catch him in being bad so they could lock him up and throw him away. He had been certain nobody wanted to care for a werewolf, or do anything good for a werewolf.

He had once believed there was no one who could love a werewolf.

As he lay a blanket over the woman's lap - her name was Niahm - he thought of second year Sirius running through the tunnel with blankets. As he handed a plate of eggs and beans and toast to a man named Landry, whose face was softly scarring from the just-passed moon, he thought of Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey in the shadowy darkness of the Shack, comforting him through pain. He saw himself in Storm, who sat playing with toys in front of the fireplace in the main room, and rememberer days when his parents whispered fights over when to send him to the shelter, fearful and yet not wanting to make a mistake that could cost them all, not understanding him... He saw himself in the limps, the scars, the grunts of frustration at stiff joints.

"There are others, more than are here," Remus said, finally setting into a chair in the main hall of Blackburn Tower, having spoken to every last one of the thirty-seven people staying at the Tower. "I can feel them, somehow, in a way I can't explain. Where are they?"

He looked around at Carl as Spencer sat eating a plate of the food eagerly, his eyes full of an insatiable hunger that new werewolves carried for at least a year or two after being turned. Remus had seen it in several of the people staying at the Tower. Carl recognized it, Storm still carried it in his eyes.

"These are the people who live at the Tower. They've no where to go, no homes beyond this. Others have manager to hold jobs and keep homes and lives outside of the Tower. They come for the full moon, to keep themselves safe. Most live in the villages and city."

Remus nodded. "And how do the people here stay fed and get the supplies they need?"

"We rely on the tourists that buy tickets to the Museum upstairs," Carl explained. "It doesn't make much more than it costs to keep the place operational and continue paying to stay here. But it means we keep the Tower. It means we're able to have a safe place."

"Who owns the Tower?"

"It is in ownership by a registered organization set up specifically for the purpose of creating a place for the werewolves. It's registered as a historical committee, hence the Museum, and the original owner passed away long ago. Verna or Niahm may know more, they've been at the Tower longer than I've been here - Niahm longer than I've been alive, possibly."

Spencer looked up, "My Grandfather does work with Museums. He goes and collects things people sell or auction. He'll be gone months at a time looking at collections and researching the authenticity of pieces."

"Everything here at Blackburn Tower was a part of a private collection, the museum is, basically, his family home, preserved for years. His portrait is in the study upstairs." Carl looked to Remus, "He was a wizard - he lived an absurdly long life, and his portrait speaks. After hours, I'll take you up to see him if you like. He won't talk when there are tourists about."

"Yes for sure," Remus replied.

Carl nodded, "Tonight, then,"

"Well... maybe not tonight. Tonight I have to go home, I promised my husband," Remus said.

Spencer asked, "How was Sirius?"

Remus cringed.

"That bad, huh?" Spencer frowned.

Remus said, "He was very upset. But I can't blame him, really. I just need to talk with him about all of this."

Carl was looking concerned.

"What is it, Carl?" Remus asked.

"The pack will not like it when you leave. Particularly at night," he explained. "You're the Alpha, Remus, you're their protector."

Remus flushed, "But they're afraid of me."

"Only because they respect you and they feared Greyback. You're their Alpha - fearing you and fearing the world are different. Greyback is liable to return any moment that you're away and they are unguarded. We are unguarded."

Spencer was looking up from his plate and Remus could see in his eyes, Spencer understood the feeling Carl was describing.

"It's like a father leaving his children, Remus. Things are unsettled when you step away. They fear that, too."

Remus frowned. "But I have to go home at some point. And I promised Sirius tonight. I have to talk to him - and to James and Lily, as well. Once the effects of the moon have worn off a bit more, I'd like to bring them here to help set some protective spells about the place."

"They won't take kindly to outsiders," Carl murmured. "You'll need to ease them into it, use your Alpha powers to calm them. Especially wizards wanting to do magic. Few of the pack trust wizards at all. After the way the Ministry's treated Werewolves on whole, many would rather die than seek help from any officials."

"You went to Underhill," Remus pointed out.

"Ned Veigler and I were close and Ned promised me I could trust Harry Underhill in a time of need. So I trusted Ned. He was my Alpha." Carl paused, looking Remus over. "Likewise, Ned Veigler said I could put my faith in you, rest my hopes on you, Remus. And I have. I will. These people will."

Remus nodded, feeling weight upon his shoulders.

"I can see in your eyes why he chose you."

"Why?" Remus asked, "Because I can't see it in a mirror."

"You are loved, Remus," Carl said, "And you intend to put that love you have received back out into the world. You've been where these people are and you were rescued from that darkness. You'll lead them out, whatever it takes."

Sirius was gone again when Remus returned to the flat in East London again that night.

Downstairs was some sort of celebration happening in the curry shop downstairs, a great deal of scents and shouts were spilling up into the flat, and the windows had been glowing with lights. The flat was cold and Remus set the fireplace glowing and warmed the rooms with his wand as he turned every single light in the place on.

He stood at the stove, warming a tin of soup, wondering where Sirius was. There was no note, of course. Likely that was a part of his unspoken punishment, he thought. But he had been pleased to see Sirius's records were back in their place in the bedroom, indicating he planned to come home at some point. The soup was too salty and Remus's stomach too nervous, so he gave it up as bad before he got much past a couple spoonfuls. He pushed the bowl away across the table.

The door opened and he heard Sirius come in the door. There was a telltale thump-thump as the heavy boots were kicked off and silence - a long pause - which followed.

Remus drew a deep breath.

In the living room, Sirius, too, drew a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever was about to come.

Remus kept his eyes carefully trained on the bowl's pattern as Sirius's sock-covered feet padded into the room. He passed behind Remus, opened the fridge and there was a tinkling glass and a moment later two cups of chocolate milk were set upon the table.

Remus looked up.

Sirius stared at him for a long moment, then took a long gulp of his glass of chocolate milk, leaning against the counter.

Remus's fingers tentatively touched his glass, spinning it between his hands a moment.

"The chocolate helps with dementors," he said quietly, "Because chocolate makes people happy." He was quiet a moment. "Honestly, it's just a placebo effect, more than likely. It's quite hard to be unhappy when you've got chocolate."

Sirius studied his cup.

"It is scientifically proven, in fact, that chocolate triggers the brain to release endorphins and serotonin, both of which increase feelings of happiness and --"

"You were gone."

Remus's voice died in his throat.

"You left me; and there was no note, no way to tell where you were or - or what might be happening to you. Only an empty space where my husband should have been... and through a full moon cycle."

Remus stared into the chocolate milk, his nose flared and throat constricted from emotion.

"I laid in bed that entire night, Remus, terrified for you. I was certain I was going to lose you, I was certain you weren't coming back that something had happened because I can count on one hand the number of full moon nights we've not spent together in the time since Snuffles, and --"

"It wasn't my choice not to be here Sirius," Remus said firmly, lowly. He recognized the growl in his tone and paused, taking a deep breath, tightening his fingers into fists and releasing them, tension coursing through him.

Don't get mad, he told himself silently.

"I had to face Greyback," he said quietly, forcing his voice to stay flat and even.

"Alone?" Sirius demanded.

Remus nodded. "Even if you'd been there, you couldn't have helped."

"Because I'm too weak? Because Snuffles isn't strong enough? Well let me remind you that Snuffles has been perfectly capable of --"

"Because that's not how becoming the Alpha works, Sirius."

"Yet you could have Spencer there."

"I was already Spencer's Alpha. He had to be there , Sirius. I had to have a werewolf willing to form a pack under my command in order to challenge Greyback. He had to be there. I had to take care of him. And I did." Remus looked up at Sirius, meeting his eyes. "He didn't fight Greyback with me. He couldn't. None of the werewolves there could help me. Magically bound."

Sirius stared at him.

"What do you want me to say, Sirius? Huh? It wasn't the same without you? He's nothing like you? It meant nothing to me?" Remus's words dripped sarcasm. "For Godric's sake, Sirius, it's not like we slept together."

"Don't even joke about that," Sirius hissed.

"Well it isn't! We didn't. But you're acting sooo betrayed. What exactly do you think happened? Huh?"

"I didn't know what was happening - which is my point."

Remus said, "I didn't mean to scare you. That wasn't my plan. I didn't leave saying, hey let's get a rise out of Sirius, check it out, no note. That'll really do him in!"

Sirius shook his head, his hand tightening around the glass. "I know what's not what you did. I know. You didn't think about leaving the note at all."

Remus looked confused. "Right," he agreed hesitantly.

"Gods you know for someone smart you're sure stupid."

"Stupid?"

Sirius sighed and shook his head, a manic laugh rumbling in his throat, "Don't you fucking get it?"

"Get what?" Remus snapped.

"I would have left you a note, Remus."

"Well bravo for you!"

"I would have thought of it because I would have thought of you!" Sirius's voice pitched with frustration, "I would have thought of YOU before anything else. Before I thought of werewolves and other people and Alpha laws or any of it, I would have asked myself where in the equation YOU were and I would have fucking left you a gods damed note because ever since third year, Remus, my entire fucking world has revolved around YOU!!!"

The glass in Sirius's hand broke as he put it down into the sink and he swore, then reached for his wand only to realize he left it in the pocket of his leather jacket, which was hung up by the door.

"Ferfuckssake," Sirius murmured.

Remus got up and went over, turning his own wand to the bits in the sink that had broken, using his magic to clean it up. Sirius turned away, headed for the door to get his wand out of the coat pocket.

"Sirius," Remus said quietly but firmly before he made it out of the kitchen.

Sirius paused and turned about. "I'm an afterthought for you, Remus," he said.

"You're not --"

Sirius held up a hand to stop Remus from finishing.

Remus frowned.

"I am," Sirius said, and he shrugged. "I will get used to it." He went and got his wand.

Remus closed his eyes and bit his lips, listening to Sirius's footsteps across the living room, trying desperately to come up with just the right words to say when Sirius passed by a second time, something that would be all of the words for all of the things he had to say...

But he had none.

Sirius paused in front of him in the hallway. "Night, Remus."

"Goodnight," Remus murmured.