Rules
Scribbled in cruel handwriting the page read:
Rules:
- No hugging
- No crying
- No punching walls
- No panicking
- No crying
- No feeling
- Most of all no feeling
- No personal details
- No caring (ew)
Note to future Sirius: do not let him fool you, he is still our mother’s slave, he doesn’t care about you more than he cares about him, he never will, no one ever will, so get the fuck over yourself and be as ruthless and stony as you can manage. I know you’re good at it, asshole.
Sirius sat back, admiring the thoughtless handwriting and the cruel words. Maybe he would make his mother proud yet. Remus would no longer get his way or ever wiggle his way into Sirius’ heart. Not if he could help it, and he was arrogant enough to think he could. The book was closed and placed carefully back in his drawer. It was late but Sirius had no room for sleep in his agenda. He pulled out his phone and saved a new number, he didn’t just want to ice Remus out, he wanted to hurt him. It was the only way he knew how to get people to back off. So hurt him he would, and what better way to hurt him then by making him watch as Sirius slowly destroyed himself. Especially if Sirius was right about Remus being too caring, even for a paid employee. As long as he kept Sirius alive, Remus suffered no repercussions. Sirius was going to make that as hard as fucking possible.
He had texted the number in the morning after Remus had gone to work, ‘Need shit, be at 1103 Ashburrow Ln at noon, I’ll pay you through the mail slot.’ He chuckled at himself, he hadn’t eaten in days and walls had begun to move from his sleep deprivation. Sirius hated it here, under Maman and Remus’ respective thumbs. Credit cards were set on the cool marble counter, holes still freshly punched in the wall to its left. He found what little cash he still had stashed and went to wait by the door, giggling like a lunatic.
The next thing he remembered was the uncomfortable stinging all around his body. The rough feeling of sheets that weren’t his, and the all too familiar tone of a monitor somewhere to his right. Everything smelt of hand sanitizer and industrial cleaner. He was cold and sweaty and his eyes were too heavy to open. He heard faint breathing to his left and tried to turn his head. It didn’t work and he drifted back into medicated sleep. When he woke next he remembered where he was.
A hospital.