#the only way you'll see his pretty face is by these outtakes

[pralinesims]

Half a year later, but while going through my external drive I found some outtakes of my Jazz Club edit 🎷

[heartofspells]

hey hey hey,

give me some of remus' pov watching *that* match? pretty please?

me: complains about the hurt

also me: asks for more hurt

Now, look here. You're skipping ahead, aren't you? This is meant to come later.

But yes, okay.

This could have honestly been one of two matches, but I'm choosing to go with the last instead of the first. Because I can

And look, Who I Am by Citizen Soldier started playing as soon as I started writing and I just... *motions wildly* That's highly unfair. This whole thing feels rigged and I am suspicious. 👀

Also, let's just call this a snippet of what's to come, because it is coming, so you'll see this bit again. It's here to stay.

Another outtake from At the Healing Edge of Broken.

(prepare your heart, my darling Britt)

His eyes never leave the dark head that graces the television screen, large, up close, so beautiful it hurts. Sirius doesn't smile. He always smiles when he steps onto the pitch.

Remus is trying so hard to keep breathing.

Peter is beside him. He wouldn't let Remus watch it alone, had insisted on it, not taken no as an answer or any form of response. But Remus also knows Peter is concerned about Sirius as well.

His knee is fine. Peter had seen to that, and Remus had checked, checked again, then studied the scans another ten times, just to make sure. He's healed. At least in one way.

But that doesn't alleviate their worry. Peter knows now, the media articles had made it hard to keep hidden, though Remus suspects his friend had already had his suspicions, not seeming surprised when they'd finally spoken on the matter. It isn't Sirius' injury that has them both tense, sitting on the edge of Remus' sofa, nearly falling off their perches.

Sirius is back with Gideon. He's two places away from him, only separated by his smaller brother, an insignificant shield in Remus' eyes.

"He looks like he's panicking, doesn't he?" voices Peter, quiet and tight, like he's scared of disturbing something that had settled around them the moment they'd laid sights on Sirius.

Remus releases a small noise, but he can't speak, his gaze fixed on the screen, scoping for any flicker of Sirius as the cameras bounce around in their viewpoints. When the match finally begins, and Sirius takes off running, Remus feels Peter relax a little beside him, but Remus doesn't. He can't.

Because Gideon is still there, moving in closer before falling away again, like he's toying with the dark head bobbing over the green stretch of earth. Because Sirius is once again in a place Remus knows without doubt he doesn't want to be anymore. Because Remus isn't there with him, instead sitting here with his best friend, helpless and drifting.

It's obvious when things begin to go wrong, not that they'd been right from the start. Every time the camera focuses in as closely as it can manage on Sirius' face, Remus can see how lost he is, can practically hear the shouting in the other man's head. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch him, pull him in close, hold him and keep Sirius safe, protected, loved. All the things Remus can no longer give him.

When Sirius abruptly stops running, standing still in the middle of the pitch, Peter stiffens beside him, but then he's off again. They watch as he runs and runs. They watch until he isn't running anymore. Peter shouts out, but Remus is frozen in place, can't move, not until he sees the flash of red skirting the edges of the group now encircling Sirius, hovering and watchful like a bird prepared to pick the bones of the dead clean. Then he's lurching forward, on his feet, teetering, not sure what to do.

They wait with bated breath as the team disappears from sight, taking Sirius with them. Peter asks questions that Remus can't answer, his throat and tongue no longer working. It seems to take forever, lifetimes within lifetimes, but when the team reemerges, Sirius nowhere in sight, Peter is snatching up his phone, pressing on the name that lights up his screen within a second.

He puts it on speaker so that Remus can hear, and he feels guilty, like he's betraying Sirius' trust all over again. But he doesn't tell him to shut it off, listening intently to the conversation unfolding. He's worried about his knee, says it gave out. Peter looks at Remus, mouthing more questions, but Remus only shakes his head. Sirius' knee is fine. It's perfect. This shouldn't have happened, but Remus knows better than most why it has.

They continue to talk, Remus barely daring to move, but when Sirius' voice suddenly goes silent as Peter speaks, Remus can sense the shift in the air that his friend is oblivious to in the moment. Something is wrong. Sirius always makes small noises over the phone, showing he's listening, his breathing picking up or falling depending on what's being said. Now, there's only silence.

Peter finally questions it when no response comes to his words, his eyes flickering to Remus in confusion before back to the phone laying on the table between them. He begins to panic, drawing off Remus' own crushing despair, because somehow, he knows that whatever is happening on the other side of that call, it's nothing good. Peter shouts at the phone, tone insistent, demanding.

"Peter," whispers Remus, drawing his friend's attention only halfway. "Peter, something's wrong." Fear and dread floods Peter's face as he stares back at him. "I'm going," says Remus suddenly, turning on his heel. "I'm going there now. Keep him on the phone. Please, Pete, just keep him on the phone, whatever you have to do."

Peter nods in understanding, calling Sirius' name fervently, rattling off more words that aren't making sense to Remus' head anymore, the terror building inside him drowning everything else away. Remus grabs his keys and he's got the door half-opened when they hear a heaving breath over the speakers of the phone, echoing around them. And then Sirius is talking once more, but his voice isn't his own now, something gripping at it, causing it to sound muted, dead, a ghost of what it should be.

Remus stops and turns, eyes locking on the lighted screen. He barely registers Peter's demanding questions. Sirius cuts him off, says Peter's name, a whisper of sound, a hush falling over him. And then there's one more name hissing around them before there's a terrible clatter and everything goes silent and cold.

Remus can't breathe.