Written on a 10 mins timer. Sorry for typos, spelling error and all round shitty writing.
Sirius bit his lip. He was standing, Remus across from him, the beds pushed neatly against the wall. Remus was trembling, his face a deathly white as he gripped the edge of the wooden bed frame.
“No,” Remus said again. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, past the point of breaking. Blood dropped down his cheek in a slow, steady line, painting his skin in various shades of red. “You - You can’t - “
With a sigh Sirius looked down. He felt jittery, nerves radiating up from his stomach into the rest of his body, items swimming in and out of focus. He took a deep breath, lacing his fingers together, forcing himself to remain still. “Remus. Remus, just listen to me for one fucking second alright? Look, it’s not as bad - “
“Not as bad?” Remus’ voice was mocking. “Sirius, you want to join the fucking Order! The Rebellion! You want to fight in the War!”
Sirius pressed his lips together. He had always complained, long and hard about the War. It had hung over his entire life like an axe - even from young his mother used to tell him how to prepare for the Mark. He used to rant about it to Remus, how he hated the conflict, hated the bloodshed, about how he was raised to be a soldier ever since he was a child.
He didn’t know what had caused him to snap. Maybe it was Regulus, who had just been branded. Maybe it was the news, reporting hundreds of deaths each week. Maybe it was Remus, the idea of him dying, of him being executed if Voldemort won.
He didn’t know. But by God, he wouldn’t let it happen.
Sirius looked up, meeting Remus’ gaze. “Yeah,” he said. “I want to fight in the war.”
“Jesus,” Remus muttered. He sank onto the bed, letting his head drop into his hands. “Christ, Sirius. This isn’t - isn’t a game. It’s war! It is full on, balls-to-the-wall war. You’re going to get killed, or tortured, or hurt - “
“I’m the best dueler in the school right now,” Sirius interrupted. “I’m a damn good flyer. And I’ve dealt with enough torture to know how to keep my mouth shut.”
Remus shook his head, curls flying around his face. “No. No, I know you’re doing this because...because you think I need protecting or some shit. Sirius, you’re 17. You can’t go and - and join the Order. You can’t. You have your whole life ahead of you, don’t throw it away just for me - “
“God Remus!” Sirius flung out his hand. “Remus, you’re a werewolf. Do you know what they’re doing to Werewolves right now? Locking them up - every single fucking person on that registry is being sent to werewolf camps on the east. And that’s what’s happening on our side - you know what? They just found that missing werewolf’s body - he was cut into pieces and branded with the Dark Mark.”
“I’m not on the registry,” Remus said quietly and Sirius laughed. “Don’t you see, Remus? If Voldemort wins, there won’t be a bloody registry! Because there will be no werewolves to put on it!”
“Don’t,” Remus said again, and this time his voice was firm. “Don’t you dare. You better now - you can’t throw away your life for me Sirius. Okay? I’m not worth it, you idiot, I’m not worth going to War for!”
“People are dying, Remus!” Sirius yelled. “Werewolves, half-blood, muggles. People are being killed, families are being ripped apart - “
“And what?” Remus shot back. “What will happen when you see your family on the other side of the mask? What happens when you see Bella, or Narcissa or even Regulus? What do you do then?”
Sirius bit his lip. “They chose their path.”
“Chose?” There were tears now in Remus’ eyes, flowing down his cheeks and his face. “Chose like you chose? You can’t fight for me, Sirius, you can’t go to war just to protect me!”
“Hundreds of werewolves are dying,” Sirius said, his voice flat. “Hundreds of them - your own kind. You’d just abandon them to die?”
Remus met his gaze. “If it meant keeping you alive, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do.”
“Exactly.” Sirius swallowed. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do. Because if Voldemort wins, he’ll be signing your death warrant. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to prevent that.”
Remus fell silent. The room seemed to shrink, the echoes from their fight fading. He swore, picking at his nail with his finger, his arms braces on his knees.
“Remus,” Sirius said softly. “Remus, I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t.” Remus looked up; his eyes were red and bloodshot. “Fine. Join. But I’m joining with you.”
“No,” Sirius said immediately. “It’s too dangerous.”
Remus folded his arms. It was hard, so damn hard to argue with Remus when he made his mind up; Sirius bit his lip. “Why not? The double standard is bothering you?”
“I won’t get executed if Voldemort wins -“
“Yes, you will.” Remus snorted. “Are you an idiot? He’ll kill anyone who’s part of the Order. You join, you’re screwed. Your chance of survival is as good as mine.”
“Remus, you’re not even - “
Remus folded his arms. “I’m joining with you. Because you’re right. Hundreds of werewolves are being killed, and I won’t let that bastard do that to them.”
“Fine,” said Sirius. “We’ll join. We’ll ask to get out together. In a team, I mean.”
Remus laughed. “Sure. I mean, what’s the worse that can happen? We get thrown into Azkaban?”
“More like you’ll get thrown into Azkaban,” Sirius retorted, and Remus laughed.
“No,” he said. “My money is on you.”
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