Title: Best Friends
By: Amanda
Feedback: sweety167@yahoo.ca
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I’m just playing with JK Rowling’s toys. I promise to put them back when I’m done, whenever that is. And the song is by Damien Rice, I think.
Timing: 1981
Spoilers: PoA I suppose.
Summary: How do you handle being the last one? Remus Song fic.
Completed: November 6, 2005
Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY fic for Erin! I know, I can’t seem to get ‘the happy’, sorry luv!
This is a new type of Remus for me; desperate and slightly crazed. Blame it on grief. And this is the first time I haven’t tried to align the song and date – sorry, this little ditty just fit too well.




Life can become very lonely, very fast. Once you’re young and surrounded by friends, than old and all alone in the world.
And all you have is the comfort of things that don’t change, the things that are predictable. Things like laundry and the sky. There’s a cycle, but it’s always the same, it’s mundane. It can be relied on.

Look up my darlin’
Way up high
At the clouds above you

A week ago, a day ago it was this same sky staring down at a completely different world. One of friends and family. One of James and Lily, Sirius and Peter. And now James and Lily are dead. Poor little Peter too, and you’re locked up in Azkaban. Lost. And I’m here, at some condemned cabin hanging the same thread barren and faded bed clothes on a rickety line to dry in an even colder breeze. And the sky is still there, the same clouds about us all. Above only you and I now.

My heart’s a window darlin’
If you look inside
You’ll see how I think of you.

I just wish I could tell you Sirius, I wish I had told you before. Maybe things would have been different, maybe we wouldn’t be alone now. Maybe we wouldn’t be the only ones still breathing. Slim maybes. But how could you not know. It’s been as plain as the scars on my face, as the moon in this sky. As the look in my eyes.
The way I look – looked – at you, it had to be obvious, it had to be clear how I feel for you. How I think of you. How I still see you as my friend, as a best friend…how I love you.
Maybe if you knew how I loved you. Maybe if you knew someone really loved you, with all his heart. Maybe that could have changed something, anything…

We all get angry sometimes
But it disappears
Don’t have the patients sometimes
I create tears

I should hate you, I should yell and scream and curse you to oblivion and back. I should have found you and hexed you. But I can’t, and I don’t, and I didn’t. I’m mad, and I’m confused. I don’t understand. Can never understand such a betrayal, such a desperation that pushed you, forced you…but I need to know. I need you to explain it, I need you to be here to tell me. I need you to know that I need you… but I don’t hate you.
I cry for you, I mourn for you. I cry for a man who has killed my only friends, my second family, my youth. I cry for a man I love. I’m not noble, it’s not for James or Lily or Peter. Or baby Harry who is now orphaned and alone. No, I haven’t cried for them. I create these tears for you. I shed them for you, to clean your memory. I cleanse you. As if the tears of this dark creature could do that.

But there’s nothing in this wash that won’t come clear
In the end
‘Cause we’re best friends

I can’t help but think, if we’re ever together again, if we ever get that chance, it will be all right again. We would be. I could wrap my arms around you, hold you, forgive everything and love you. Honestly love you.
Restore, both you and me. Like this washing – pale and gaunt like my skin, only clean, renewed. Fresh. The possibility for us, for you. The hope.

If I still love you, if I can ever tell you, it can clean this. Make it clean, make it all clear.

Because we’re best friends.


end.