Carve Me Open / r.l. + s.b. /

Game Over

Sirius hadn't showed up to St. Mungo's. It had been half an hour since their escape from Malfoy Manor with not a second left to lose. They were lucky to have made it out alive; the sounds of Death Eaters entering the manor seconds after Regulus and Sirius had apparated sent chills down Remus' spine; they reminded him how they were not ready, despite years of training.

He worried that they would never be ready, no matter how many mornings and nights they spent with the Order. It seemed that wherever they went, the threat of imminent death and Voldemort followed, and every time they were faced with confrontation from the opposition, they were unprepared. Lily and James had dealt with Death Eaters before – only a month prior to this incident. They'd escaped with the skin on their backs. Remus was frightened; could Voldemort be defeated?

They were outnumbered by far, and the skills possessed by older Death Eaters exceeded their own despite graduation quite high in their class of thirty-one. None of that seemed to matter anymore – the schoolwork, the training, the lessons, and the grades. It appeared to all but vanish in the face of danger. How long would it be until their luck ran out? Years? Would this war last for years? Perhaps months or maybe even days! Who would lose their life to this unmanageable war?

"Remus, please," Lily implored. "See a healer. We'll let Sirius come and visit as soon as he gets here, but you're hurt."

Remus didn't answer, his feet tracking bloody prints across the tiled floor. Lily didn't understand. She couldn't possibly understand the apprehensions and doubts flooding the last cup of sanity he'd managed to save. She went everywhere with James, and they always returned with one another. Remus and Sirius found themselves separated at every turn, and such a burden tears down your every stronghold. He wanted to rip his fucking hair out! Such pain was nearly unbearable; how could he know Sirius was safe? How could he protect him if he didn't even know his whereabouts?

He was helpless. There was no way he could find Sirius in Vienne; he'd never been out of England before, never seen the vacation home, on the off chance Sirius had actually gone there. Even if he had gone to their flat, against his mother's wishes, Remus doubted he stayed very long. London was a grand city with millions of people; he didn't even want to do the math that he'd not only find Sirius, but also find him alive.

Such statistics drove him mad. No, Lily would never understand. James was sensible and clever; he knew how to manage situations with a calm, level head – knew how to fight with tactic and knew when to accept defeat. Sirius, on the other hand, was driven by pride and, at times, spite. It wouldn't be surprising if he'd returned to Malfoy Manor to have it out with that hysterical woman he considered a cousin.

It was only hope that he surrender to in that moment. Hope that Sirius did the right thing for once and did what was best for himself – not what was best for his fucking pride.

James rose from his plastic chair, setting his coffee on the little table with random magazines and said, "Moony. He's alright."

"How do you know that," Remus snapped angrily. James fell silent, eyes averted to the floor. "That's right. You fucking don't."

He moved away from his friend, storming down the hallway to a different waiting room in hopes he'd find some solace in his self-isolation. He couldn't think with those to nagging away at him. Although he knew that they were trying to suggest what's best for him, he didn't give a damn about himself in that moment. The only thought he could manage to focus on was Sirius and whether or not he was alive.

The only indication had been that feeling in his chest – the one that manifested all those years ago during their school days for Sirius – and it's consistent hum. Remus relied on that for comfort and resignation.