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When Sirius peeks outside of his office door he immediately stills. He shuts the door quickly and presses his back to it. He is here, Remus Lupin. The patient that he saw one month ago and hasn’t been able to get out of his head ever since. And James, being the absolute worst person on earth, had been the instigator of it all, flipping the door to Sirius’ designated colors when he knew that it was Mary’s turn. Remus should have been her patient and then Sirius’ mind wouldn’t be the jumbled mess that it is. Still, Sirius had a job to do and had a mantra of “do no harm” playing in his head despite how badly he really, really wanted to harm James Potter. It wasn’t that Sirius didn’t like Remus. No, it wasn’t that at all. Sirius, after one brief, clinical interaction, actually found that he liked Remus too much. Remus was all long, scarred limbs and scruffy in an attractive, rough around the edges sort of way. He had this closed off attitude that Sirius, being in his field for years, had recognized instantly as a facade that he probably put on for doctors. Sirius badly wanted to break through that mask and see what Remus Lupin looked like when he really trusted someone. He wanted to see how Remus would treat him if he knew that Sirius didn’t have any intention of fixing Remus. He also wanted desperately to see what Remus looked like under his standard uniform of worn jeans and a threadbare band t-shirt but Sirius preferred not to dwell on that aspect as much with the interest of keeping his job.
Finally, Sirius heaved a great sigh and swung his door open, cussing James under his breath one last time before grabbing his clipboard , walking down the hallway, plastering his best smile on his face, and giving a sharp knock on to the door before opening it to greet a seemingly very grouchy Remus Lupin.
“Hi, how are we doing today?” Sirius thanks whatever higher power might be out there that his voice comes out even and perfectly pleasant despite the fact that he can hear his own heart hammering in a way that would have him seeking medical attention if he weren’t a literal doctor.
“Fine.” Remus’ response is clipped, he doesn’t give away any more than is necessary. They did this same dance last appointment. Remus had made Sirius fight tooth and nail to have a productive conversation about his care.
“Ok great! How’s the pain today?” Sirius clicks his pen, getting ready to jot down the notes for Remus’ chart.
“Fine.” Remus repeats plainly. Sirius barely swallows the groan that rises to his throat.
“Ok, how about ranking it? What’s your pain today on a scale of one to ten?” Sirius points to the pain chart pinned to the cork board beside the door.
Remus sighs and while he turns his head to examine the chart, Sirius uses the opportunity to take in the sight of him. Remus was sitting far enough back on the exam table that the hinge of his knee was almost flush with the edge, but his long legs allowed his feet to rest flat on the floor regardless. Sirius could tell, just by the way that he was sitting, that he was favoring his right side and he doubted that Remus even noticed that he was doing it. Remus had his fingers gripping the edge of the exam table so hard that his knuckles were turning white and his shoulders were bunched up so far that they were nearly touching his ears. Sirius felt like the worst person on the planet for having the fleeting thought that even terribly distressed, Remus was still so hot that it made him want to step out into the hallway and scream. When Sirius finally looked at his face, he was already looking at Sirius with his brows furrowed. It’s the most emotion that Sirius had seen out of him. Sirius cleared his throat, which was suddenly very dry. He hoped that Remus would reduce his ogling to purely professional examination.
“Um, I guess just the regular amount of pain?” He looked so terribly confused with the line between his brows and the slight pout of his lips that Sirius would have found it adorable if Remus’ response hadn’t made his heart clench.
Sirius tried his damndest to keep the pity off of his face and out of his voice when he said, “Remus, the normal amount of pain to be in is no pain.”
Realization dawned on Remus’ face for just a moment before his expression went carefully blank once more. The only thing giving him away was the way that a muscle ticked in his jaw from clenching it so hard. Sirius let out a sigh. This wasn’t working. If he really wanted to help him, he would have to try something else.
“Okay,” Sirius walked over to set his clipboard down and pushes the rolling stool in front of Remus, sitting down to that they were face to face and bracing his hands against his knees. “Okay let’s try it this way. Can you tell me about a time when you felt the worst pain of your life?” It was a blunt question. Probably one that would have gotten Sirius chewed out by the supervisor. Sirius was an Orthopedist, not a fucking therapist, he wasn’t meant to be asking personal questions like this. Still, Sirius thought that was probably why Remus was wary. He’s used to doctors looking at him like an equation to be solved, an ant under a microscope, Sirius doubted that he had ever had a doctor actually try to help him understand.
“Um” Remus was sputtering a little and it made Sirius a bit smug. This is going to work, he thought. This is finally breaking Remus’ script. “I guess my accident.” Remus brings a hand off of table to cup his left side, his long fingers splayed wide over his own ribs. Sirius guessed that if he could see under the thin fabric of his T-shirt that there would be a scar there, probably one a bit deeper and a bit larger than the smaller visible scars that littered his skin. Sirius knew about this accident, of course. Remus had been in a car accident when he was 18. Sirius only knew this because the surgery that he had to have to repair his broken rib and consequently, the collapsed lung that followed, is in Remus’ chart. And also, the accident is why Remus was here, seeing Sirius, to begin with,
Sirius nods emphatically, “That makes sense. Now how about a time that you felt no pain at all?” Remus’ confused frown deepen.
“I-“ Remus falters a bit and Sirius curses himself for asking this stupid fucking question to begin with. But then Remus says, “Yeah.” And when he says it, his voice cracks the smallest amount. An impossibly minuscule demonstration of vulnerability that definitely shouldn’t have affected Sirius as much as it did, but Sirius, as it turns out, is a very weak man. “Yes. The summer before my accident. That’s the last time I remember not feeling any pain. That was ten years ago.”
That last sentence was enough of a slip from Remus’ normal responses that Sirius stilled for a beat too long before saying, “okay, so the scale of pain for you would be between 1. No pain like right before your accident. And ten, the worst pain you ever felt, like during your accident. Can you give me a number?” Sirius moved to perch his elbows on his knees and place his face between his hands while he waited on Remus’ response.
“Well played, doctor” Remus’ lips quirked upward such a small amount that Sirius was sure he imagined it, “I’m at a six today. It’s a good day for me. Normal.”
Sirius can’t help the frown that takes over his face anymore than he can control the way that his tongue instinctively gives a dissatisfied cluck. A six shouldn’t be what anyone considers a good pain day, he thinks. What he says out loud is a much more composed, “well let me do some tests and then we can work out a plan to alleviate some of your pain. I mean it when I say no pain is the normal amount of pain. I’m going to get you as close to that as possible.” Sirius tried to make his voice sound sincere without giving away how much he was overly emotionally involved in this man’s treatment despite only meeting him one other time.
He must succeed because Remus simply nods and says “okay”
Sirius rolls over to the sink and picks up his clipboard, writes down some notes, and moves onto the diagrams and tests for range of motion. He digs a goniometer out of the drawer and rolls back over toward Remus.
“Can you lay back on the table for me?” All Remus does is give one sharp nod before using his hands to slide his body up the table, his feet end up dangling off the edge.
“Can you bend your left knee up as far as you can?” Remus complies without trouble, Sirius rounds the exam table to measure the angle. “Okay, good. I’m just going to measure it. Sirius pins the hinge of the tool to the hinge of Remus’ knee. His palm gently braves against Remus’ knee cap while his fingers keep the tool in place. He uses his free hand to adjust the sides to line up and measure how far the knee is bent and tries and fails to not dwell on how impossibly warm Remus’ skin is even through the denim. Even through the crisp air of the exam rooms that always made Sirius shiver.