Sirius stayed at the Potter cottage that night.

Remus sat on the edge of the bed in their room after stepping carefully around a mess Sirius had made all over the floor. Records, discarded graphic t-shirts, hair ties, balled up bits of paper, dried up quills, and a small stack of tea cups and saucers, empty save for the remnants of the leaves in the dregs of the cup.

He stared around at all the little things, the little evidences of his husband.

Then he drew his wand and started to clean up, watching the bits and pieces that had been scattered all over the room slide into the places they all belonged. The room looked clean and neat when it was all picked up and Remus dropped his wand onto the night stand beside the bed. It landed with a clatter in front of a framed photo of himself and Sirius at their wedding.

Remus signed; the photograph version of himself smiled and lit with laughter as he pulled Sirius closer and kissed the side of his face, which was glowing in a fit of joy. Sirius had a photo on his side, too. They'd taken two nearly identical photos - Sirius's showed Remus's joy at a kiss from Sirius.

He breathed the scent of the room in deep.

Then he got up from the bed and he went out to the living room and found his hollowed out book - the one chocolate appeared in somehow, a phenomenon he'd never figured out - and counted seven books to the left, ruffling through the pages...

Stuffed in between pages, like bookmarks, were muggle money bills. Remus had been saving, pinching here and there, hoping he and Sirius could find a way to buy a house, or at least to have for an emergency. He'd pinched and saved in muggle bills so it would be less tempting to use in the mean time and also because they were left from skimping at meals from lunch at muggle art school and from magicking his supplies to be used over and over again, erasing artwork from canvases after grading and pressing charcoal to the very last bits of dust rather than buying new ones.

It wasn't much, but it was his.

He opened his closet and got out an arm full of jumpers, carrying them to the bed and got his suitcase from underneath. He shoved the jumpers in, then magicked his sock drawer to empty itself into the suitcase while he collected books from the living room. He had several on werewolves and he got his old potions kit, a book on healing. Of course, he took the chocolate book. Then he went to the kitchen. Anything that wouldn't spoil, he took and he packed and then he went to the closet where his year's worth of wolfsbane was.

He stared at the box of vials. It wouldn't even last one month if he shared, even if they all skimped on doses... But maybe if they prioritized people who couldn't do the transformation and the children... maybe it could do some good then.

Sirius would be utterly pissed if Remus gave the potion away.

His hand shook as he waved his wand and the case levitated out of the closet.

There was no avoiding pissing Sirius off at this point.

And honestly if Sirius would just breathe and hear him out, maybe Sirius would understand what Remus wanted. Sirius had always wanted to be a healer, specifically a healer for werewolves. If he learned a bit from Emmaline and applied himself, he could become that for the pack. Sirius's dreams could come true if he just would listen.

But he wasn't even there to tell.

Remus stood beside the bed. He stared at the packed up suitcase. He reached for the picture beside his bed, holding it, staring into Sirius's happy face in the image. "I love you," he whispered, then put it into the suitcase, too, along with Ned's letter, the photo of his Mum, and finally he closed the case.

He went and quickly packed all of Spencer's things - there wasn't much, he hadn't had anything with him, but there were the art supplies and some clothes and things - barely a rucksack worth of stuff. Remus slung that around his shoulders and levitated his suitcase out of his bedroom.

He paused at the coffee table in the living room, bending down over a sketchpad with a pencil, and he wrote the note he'd forgotten to write last time.

Sirius,
I'm going to Blackburn. The pack needs me.
I will be home tomorrow night - Thursday, that is.
Hopefully, we will both have had time to cool off by then and can have a proper conversation about all this.
I am sorry.
I love you.
Remus

He stared at the note, imagined Sirius reading it, wondering if anything there could trigger more anger or hurt feelings but he didn't think so. It was straight forward, it was the information needed - the where, the when, and a why... Bases covered, yeah?

He almost tripped dragging the suitcase and rucksack down the old metal stairs, his shoulder screaming in pain. The night was cold, wind whipping, the sky covered by clouds that smelled heavy with snow. It was actually snowing in Blackburn. When he disapparated into the courtyard inside of Blackburn Tower, he was shins-deep. He struggled to drag the suitcase toward the door inside.

The moment he wished there was someone to help him carry it in, the door burst open and three people came spilling outside, practically fighting to take the case and the sack away from him, each announcing they were here to do their Alpha's bidding, like cheerful dogs greeting a master arriving home from work.

He gave one bit of luggage each to two of them and turned to the third, "I don't remember where my room was, could you --"

"Yes, yes, this way, this way, Alpha."

"You can call me Remus," he suggested, feeling silly and young and small compared to the bloke he was speaking to.

The man nodded, "Yes, yes, Alpha Remus."

"Just Remus is all," he said, and the three of them hurried to carry his luggage in and show him the way to his place amongst them.

James and Lily lay in bed, curled around each other, James softly running his fingers down her spine. Her palms were pressed against his chest, her head nestled under his chin as her nose and lips brushed on his neck. He stared up at the corner of the ceiling, though his eyelids bobbed sleepily, heavy with exhaustion. Lily's toes rubbed against James's calf under the blankets, their limbs all tangled up.

"I love you," James murmured.

"I love you more," Lily whispered.

"See, you always say that, but you have no idea really how much I love you, Evans," he said. "It's rather infinite, actually."

Lily chuckled against him, and he laughed, too, her exhales tickling his neck.

His hand had found the base of her spine and cupped her bottom gently before his fingers slid back up and over her hip, onto her belly, pausing to feel the very slight bump beginning to form. He bit his lip and smiled - imagining the baby inside. Despite having a grasp on how development worked, he still pictured it fully formed already, just tiny. He wondered what the baby would look like and what the baby would smell like and feel like. He imagined him or her lying across his chest the way Roger sometimes did, and he wondered what it would be like, being a father.

Lily felt the emotions in him- excitement, pride, protectiveness... They tingled against her palms, soothing and good compare to some of the other emotions she'd collected that night from Remus.

The comparison made her think.

James shifted his position a bit so that it was him kissing her neck, her chin tilting upward, as James's palms traveled up, too, cupping her chest softly, his lips against her throat as he rolled, leaning over her, careful not to crush her or put any of his weight against her belly. His one hand massaging her chest as the other cupped her head from below.

"Do you think Sirius is alright?" Lily asked.

"You're thinking of Sirius right now?" James asked, pausing moving his thumb. He drew back from her neck, one brow raised.

"Aren't you worried about him?"

"He's probably asleep."

Lily nodded.

James lowered to her neck again.

"I'm worried about them," she admitted. "Remus and Sirius," she explained.

"I'm worried that I'm giving you some of my best loving and their names are the ones on your mouth," James chided.

Lily laughed, "But aren't you, though?"

James's hand slid from her chest to her side. "Yeah. But they're Remus and Sirius - they always work it out. They have these fights and then they make it up. They will again."

"I suppose." Lily ran her fingers across the top of James's back and he groaned at the feeling of her nails dragging over his skin.

"Oh gods, Evans," he murmured, body tensing.

Lily smiled, enjoying the power she had to make him react that way - and the way he looked, leaning over her as he was, the way his hair fell across his forehead and his eyes sort of rolled up...

She kissed his chin.

"You know, Remus reckons the alpha instincts were so strong since he'd just won that fight and all - he was pretty sure that's why he was so mad when we were talking with him and all."

"Sirius said something about that, too."

"Yeah?"

"Evans, do we have to talk about them right now?"

"It's on my mind."

James sighed and lay back against his pillow, dramatically.

Lily rolled so she was on her side, sort of leaning over him, one palm splayed across his chest, the other on his shoulder.

"They'll be making up in no time, back at the flat, being the snuggly dogs we know and love," James said, "You'll see. They'll have a good talk and it'll be all back to normal, right as rain, and all that good stuff." He paused. "Now, can we pay attention to the - erm - task at hand or do I need to get all alpha wolfy to make you pay attention?" There was a challenge to his voice - a dare.

Lily laughed, "You think that would be you around here, Mr. Potter?" She slid her hands up his arms, lacing her fingers through his as she pinned his hands over his head and moved so she was straddling him, making him grin. "I don't think so."

"No?" James asked.

Lily nodded. "That would most certainly be me."

James grinned, eyes sparkling. "Whatever you want of me, Evans, I will do."

Sirius lay awake on the couch downstairs, his record player on the coffee table, playing very softly. He watched a reflection of it spinning that shimmered through shadow on the ceiling, one hand up behind his head, an unlit cigarette in between his lips, trying to ignore the feelings echoing through him from the amorous pair upstairs.

He wondered what Remus was doing, why Remus hadn't come after him... He had to know where Sirius had gone, right? Lily and James had both assured Sirius that things would cool down, that Remus would come around.

But what if he didn't?

Was he still back at the flat, being all Alpha-wolfy?

Sirius had gone out with Marlene McKinnon and they'd sat in a booth at a pub with her sister Annalee and Sean Buckner and Sirius hadn't told any of them a lick of what was going on. He couldn't. They didn't know about Remus's furry little problem, and when Marlene asked if Sirius was alright, he'd said he was spiffing.

"Remus never comes to the pub with us," Marlene had pouted. "How come?"

"He doesn't much like fun," Sirius had said bitterly.

"Oh have we had a row?" Marlene had laughed, making an exaggerated merrrrrow sound.

Sirius had shrugged, then agreed to meet them again Friday night when the pub was having a fun karaoke night. "We'll Sandy and Danny the fuck out of the patrons," Marlene had suggested, grinning wickedly, singing the oh-oh-oh-honey from You're The One That I Want.

Sirius closed his eyes.

Suddenly there was a loud thump, dust shaking from the exposed rafters over Sirius's head, and muffled laughter through the floor boards.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, then rolled over, sitting up, and muttering to himself that he was sooo gonna tease James in the morning for whatever they were doing upstairs.

Maybe this was as good an excuse as any to go home.

He could picture walking into the bedroom and telling Remus, yes I'm home because James and Lily were roughhousing and they'd laugh about it and Remus's eyes would be his own, not the wolf's, and then they'd talk everything out. They'd be alright. They'd be happy, even...

But when he'd gathered his record player up and stepped through the floo it was to find a note on the coffee table.

He stared at the words on the page, and he swore before balling it up and tossing it into the fire.

Turns out that a note didn't make being abandoned fell any much better.