Part II
SIRIUS
“James, I'm sorry. I want to die. I don’t think I can do it anymore. I’m ready to be done. I-I’m going to kill myself.” They finally let the words out in the open.
For so long they have felt this way. Longer than most people know. Well, no one really seems to know at all. That’s the other thing. A week or so ago, Sirius stopped trying to put up the front they usually do. It wasn’t worth it anymore. They were tired, they still are. No one noticed when they let the wall down, when they let the curtain blow back to show what’s underneath, when they let the floodgates open and everything spill out.
No one noticed. No one cared.
Not enough to do anything, not enough to push when they would say they’re fine. They let everything show but they still couldn’t ask for help. It would be weak. They just wanted someone to care without begging for it. It’s how they ended up here tonight. One last plea. Up until now they have never said it out loud like this. Fully meaning every word and intending to follow through with it. If watching them pull away and seeing fresh cuts across their arms or their thighs wasn’t enough to think something was genuinely very wrong, maybe this will. They just… don’t know what else to do.
The silence that follows their confession is brutal. It’s deafening. Minutes and hours and days pass before it feels like it is going to end. It just never does though. James doesn’t say anything. Maybe he doesn’t know what to say. Maybe he thinks Sirius is just joking like they tend to do. Maybe he doesn’t care.
They can hear their heart pounding, slow hammering beats. Echoing in the quiet. Faintly they can hear breathing, James’ not theirs. Sirius isn’t even sure if they can breathe right now, maybe they are just holding their breath waiting. Waiting for permission to keep going. What else can they do? Their hands fidget slowly, keeping themself small but it isn’t something they can stop.
For a moment they are back in the house they grew up in. Barely there, not welcome. Making sure they barely took up any space, yet still being too much. Hiding in the shadows to avoid the wrath of their mother, hoping that someone could save them. Wanting their brother to reach out to them, to show them they weren’t alone, to save them even though they shouldn’t need saving.
As long as they remain small they can’t be asking for too much. Just the littlest bit. All they need is to know someone cares. That house suffocated them and no one cared, until six years ago when Regulus held them as they cried. They never wanted to feel like that again. They aren’t sure if they ever stopped.
Everything feels heavy. The weight they bear of a life they aren’t meant to continue living. It’s too heavy for them, they don’t want to carry it anymore. Soon they won’t have to, soon the weight will carry them over the edge of the cliff and it will be over. It will just be heavy until the very end. Part of Sirius hopes that even just for a moment there will be peace. One second of peace in between this and whatever is next. One brief moment where they can take in an easy breath before letting it all go.
After too long, Sirius turns to find their friend asleep. Eyes softly shut, mouth hanging open slightly. Completely out. There’s no way of knowing exactly when they drifted off. Did they hear what Sirius said first? Or did they somehow miss it entirely? They’ll never know. It’s not their fault either, there was hardly anything they would be able to do anyway. Sirius already knows what comes next, they just have to do it. All James could have done was delay the end.
The first time they tried, they let themself think too much. It stopped them. Well that, and Regulus. Nothing can stop them this time. Nothing stands in their way now and no one is even trying to. It will just be better for everyone if they let them go. It’s late and everyone will be asleep, that way they can do everything they need to without making it a big deal.
Slowly to not wake up James, they crawl out of the bed. The door creaks as they go through and as they remember that Regulus will be out here waiting to go to bed, they quickly wipe the wetness from under their eyes. He would notice, he can’t notice. Luckily he doesn’t hear the door or their footsteps. They’re able to walk across the hall to their room without any sign of movement. No one to mess things up for them this time. No little brother pleading for them to keep going. Just silence.
Remus is facing away from the door, also asleep. He was tired before it’s no wonder he’s already out. Distantly in the back of their mind they think about how sweet he looks when he sleeps. He’s usually able to sleep through almost anything. Less of a chance Sirius will wake him up. There’s not much they need to do at all. Just two things really. Pulling out the notebook from their bag and making sure it’s all set, and then grabbing the pills from the bottom of their suitcase.
That sounds worse than it is. Most people will think this was the plan all along. It never was. But everything is going to point to that after. They didn’t come up to the lake for the summer planning to do this. They don’t want to, it’s more complicated than that. If anyone bothers to try and figure out what went wrong, Sirius doubts they’ll get it right. It goes back a long time, no one knows everything. Years ago when they still lived with their parents, they wanted to die. That never quite went away but they eventually found things to live for.
Sometimes that’s enough. Sometimes they can see a reason to keep going and push past whatever they are feeling. Brush it off and lock it in the back of their mind for at least a bit. Days that are worth it have been less and less frequent. So they found a reason to make it through the school year - this. Planning this trip and making it a perfect summer was enough for them to live another few months.
There are still plans, well there were, for the second half of this. It’s just not worth it anymore. Sirius doesn’t have it in them, they’re empty. No one cares either. So screw the plans for the summer. Most of them aren’t written anywhere so once they’re gone everyone can do whatever they want to. They’ve been doing that most days already anyway.
This summer was supposed to make everything better. Being surrounded by their favourite people at all times was supposed to fix them. It was supposed to make them happier. It was supposed to make them feel less alone. It was supposed to make them feel loved.
That’s what it was supposed to be. In reality Sirius feels more and more alone every day. They feel like they are fading and no one even realises, no one even cares. There is no point in expending all of their energy on staying alive for people that just tolerate them. It’s hard to believe any of them love them. They don’t, is the thing.
It’s a hard fucking pill to swallow, so they’ll swallow some others instead.
No one knows yet that they already unenrolled from university, they already transferred their money to Regulus, they already settled everything they need to. A few days ago. Like they said, this wasn’t the plan all along, just now. It’ll be easy for everyone after this. They won’t be a burden anymore, no one will need to pretend to care enough to do all of that. They’ll just be gone and it will be better. It’s their gift to everyone else for putting up with them for as long as they have.
Which leads them to the first step. They grab the notebook, needing to dig to the bottom of the bag. For at least a week now they have been trying to get this right. Just in case. So they had to keep the journal with them at all times, perfecting all of the letters and making sure no one else would see them.
The problem is that they couldn’t get them all right. Some are fine, they’re good enough. Telling their friends they love them, this time not asking for anything or any love in return. Apologising for all that they have done and put them through since knowing them. It would be easy enough to just leave it out next to the bed for someone to see tomorrow. If they thought it would make a difference they would neatly fold all of the letters for each of their friends. It wouldn’t though, so just putting it here is good.
Not all of them are finished. Maybe they should try again now. Or maybe today was enough. The conversation and kiss with Remus is better than whatever they could write in a note, right? Talking to James just like they always do, that’s better than some crappy letter, right? Letting Regulus come for the drive with them, that’s better than words on a stupid page, right? He didn’t like the letter the first time, though they aren’t sure if he read it. He could have, it was for him. Even if Sirius stuck around after it.
Against their better judgement they open the journal instead of just leaving it out. Opening it means reading them over. For all of the trouble Sirius has been for them, they should at least leave a decent apology. Something. It’s just- when they flip through the pages… It’s impossible. There is nothing they can say that would be enough.
Half of the pages have been torn out. Every piece that could have had any words on it, even if they scribbled over most of it, has been thrown in the fire. No one else knows that most nights sat around the campfire they are burning up apologies and pleas and declarations. Words that Sirius could never manage to say aloud, have been going up in flames for at least a week now.
The pages that are intact have names at the top. One for everyone here, they wouldn’t want anyone to feel left out. Not like they have been feeling for such a long time. Besides that, they have something to say to everyone. Of course they do, these are their best friends. It wouldn’t be right to leave anyone with nothing.
Except the nagging thought they have been trying to ignore comes creeping back in. Do they even care? If Sirius didn’t leave anything, would it be better? Would they prefer that Sirius leaves them quietly? For them to not put another fucking burden on them after they’re already gone. Another mess to clean up.
Sirius flips through it, past the finished letters. there’s only a few words on the page for Remus. It makes them sick trying to think of what else to say. All they have done is ruin him, make things harder. They want him so badly, they want him more than anything, but they know they aren’t good enough. They would be more of a burden if they were together and not just - whatever they are. They’re doing him a favor.
For a long time they knew what they could write to leave for Regulus. This isn’t the first time. There’s too much though, they could write for a year straight and it wouldn’t be enough. They just want him to be happy, for him to be okay. Now that he’s out of that house, away from their parents, it’s okay for them to go. This time he will have people to take care of him better than they were ever able to.
They keep reminding themself that. The first time, they couldn’t do it. They didn’t want to leave Regulus to deal with everything on his own. Let’s forget how they left anyway, just in a different way, that isn’t important right now. Well, maybe it is. Sirius never does the right thing, they aren’t capable of it.
This is the right thing though. Being born wasn’t right, every decision they made their whole life wasn’t right, none of it was right.
Dying is right, at least this will be right.
The last pages of the notebook are for James. There aren’t enough words in any language. Sirius knows, they tried. James doesn’t even speak French, but they tried that just in case it would work better. Regulus would be able to translate for them, but that’s not necessary. It didn’t work any better than English.
Nothing is a coherent sentence. The lines on the page aren’t even followed. Short statements, saying I love you, asking them to take care of Regulus, among too many other things. There’s too much to say. They don’t even know if any of the words they did include will matter.
None of those letters will be finished. They pick up a pen anyway. At the very bottom of each of those three pages they quickly, yet elegantly write in perfect script. Take care of you and yours. It’s too late for Sirius, they’ve given up on themself, but they can all be okay. They can take care of themselves and each other. In ways that Sirius never could. In the end that’s all they want. The world can burn down around them as long as everyone else is okay.
Before thinking too much, though that is all they ever do, Sirius shuts it. They won’t see their words again, and it’s up to everyone else if they want to read them. It’s okay if they don’t. Why would they care? This way, with the notebook shut next to the bed, they will only go to read the letters if they want to. Rather than them ripping them out and folding them for everyone individually.
Everything starts to move slower here. Their chest constricts around their heart. It’s so heavy. It feels like Sirius is crawling through molasses. These are the last moments they have and they feel dragged out. Every second is a minute, every minute is an hour. Nothing has happened, but they can already feel their heartbeat slowing. Their breathing is barely there. Just a breath or two until the very end.
They quietly find the bottle of pills. Which looks bad, they know. Another reason people will assume this was the plan all along. It wasn’t, they just happened to throw these in at the last minute. Just in case. For this, or if they happened to need them for their actual purpose. Grabbing these was why they were late on the day they drove up. Something in their gut said to have them, just like they almost always have a blade when things are bad and they need to feel something. It’s an awful way to live, so you see why they would rather not.
The hardest part now is dumping them out without waking Remus. It’s not that hard, they just have to do it quickly. A few seconds and then that’s it. Remus doesn’t stir. And now they have far too many pills sitting in the palm of their hands. They just keep staring at them. They don’t count to see how many there are, they already know it’s enough. It has to be enough.
Sitting with their back against the side of the bed, they swallow. First with nothing in their throat except for the guilt, the tiredness, the weight of everything, the emptiness. Then again with some of the pills, then again with more, then once more finishing them off. They swallow one last time, and their throat feels clear, they can take a real breath. It feels like freedom.
Still moving very slowly, they climb onto the bed. It’s okay now if they shake the bed a bit. Remus will just think they are climbing into bed for the night. Not forever. He doesn’t wake up now either. Better that way, preserve the final moments they had together.
None of what Sirius is doing feels selfish. They’re tired and they can hardly function and this solves that, sure. But most of all this will make it easier for everyone else. No one will need to deal with them anymore. No one will need to pretend like they care. This is a favour to them, one last act of love for their friends. Giving them some peace once and for all.
This may not be selfish, even if some people think it is. Anyone who thinks that probably has no idea what this feels like. Knowing that everything is about to be over is the lightest Sirius has felt in years. Even with that, there is still a weight on their chest. The selfish thing would be to stay and force everyone to continue dealing with them. The selfish thing would be to beg and plead for everyone to love and care for them when they don’t choose to. So no, this isn’t selfish.
They do one last selfish thing though. One thing that has always been selfish. They lean over from their side of the bed and place a soft kiss on Remus’ head. Whispering I love you into the darkness. Loving him has always been selfish. Whether he loves them back or they were just a friend to fuck, loving him was selfish. They just wanted one thing to cling to, and they really did. They would do it all again with him. Anything to have more of him to call their own.
As they lay back down, Sirius knows that this is it. The final moments they have. It’s all okay. It will be over soon, that’s what makes this feel okay. Their breathing steadies, at least for now, and against all odds they feel a smile settle across their face. Slight, but infinitely bigger than they’ve had recently. Real too. That’s the kicker. Nothing about this smile is for show. It’s a smile of relief.
It feels good to be done. There are no more battles for Sirius to fight, no more crash landings, no more trying. All that’s left for them is drifting off, and whatever comes next. Something better, they hope. Something easy. Something soft. Something gentle. Something kind.
They aren’t very tired. How could they be when this is the most alive they have ever felt? For years, too many to count, Sirius walked around every single day feeling like they were a corpse. Like they were already dead but forced to be alive. They have hardly been able to breathe in far too long.
It’s nice to experience it one last time. When they were younger they used to be able to laugh and smile and breathe without force. Not frequently, but more. Most often with Regulus late at night away from their parents. If only they could laugh like that with him one more time, now that they can breathe easily. Instead they lie here breathing for as long as it takes to fall asleep.
They know what is going to happen before it does. Their eyes close and they are standing at that same cliff they are always at. It’s like an old friend welcoming them home, in a twisted way. Each time they have been here before, they get pushed and then jolted back. It’s never been their choice to go over, and it’s never been their choice to be pulled back. They hate the rush they feel in their chest. A brief moment of peace when they dream of falling, chest filled with love, only to be pulled back to reality, to emptiness.
This time is going to be different. It has to be, that’s the only way to stop the falling for good.
Sirius stands there on the edge of that cliff just looking out. The cliff is a scene they have been well acquainted with for as long as they can remember. Past the cliff, past where they stand has never been clear to them. Unsure what is out there, hoping it’s better. The bottom is too far away to see what’s down there either. Knowing that no one is going to push them off aside from themself, they look over as much as they can. Trying to see, trying to figure out how this will end. They hope it’s soft. Gentle. Welcoming. Things that life never was to them.
They jump. Sleep, and more than sleep takes them. And they feel… Free. Weightless. That’s how it feels. As a kid you’re taught to be afraid of falling, of getting hurt, of heights. None of those things are scary in the end. No one tells you that the best feeling in the world is in mid air where nothing matters. You’re flying, you’re floating, you’re the most free you have ever been. It’s amazing. It’s not something to be afraid of, it never really was.
The fall is so long. Almost never-ending, but they know there is an end. They don’t mind. Not one bit. They get to feel good and know that it’s all going to be over soon. Sirius spreads their arms out like they are flying and soaks it all in. There likely is no sun here, but still they can feel it. The warmth taking them in to a hug, shining on them like it’s the first time ever. Everything feels good.
It takes a bit for them to remember they can open their eyes. At some point they screwed shut, maybe when they jumped, but they didn't need to stay that way. It won’t force them awake in reality. There isn’t any scenery here. There never has been. It’s just a cliff into nothingness. That’s how it has always been.
The sun that they can feel, it’s not there, they didn’t think it was, but now they have proof. They don’t know what that feeling is anymore. It could be how most people feel, it could be the blood rushing to their head, it could just be how it feels to be free. They don’t know.
Maybe that warmth is how it feels to be full and happy.
Out of the corner of their eye they see something. There isn’t supposed to be anything here. Their eyes must be playing tricks on them. So they push it away, it was nothing. The second one gets them thinking. It doesn’t take much to get them to think, but this is what does it. By the third one, they know it’s not fake. It can’t be, but they don’t know what to do about them.
Hands reaching out. Tempting them to grab on, to be pulled back. None of them come close enough to grab them on their own. Sirius would have to reach out. It’s more than just the three now. There are too many hands. Surrounding them, disrupting their fall. They don’t want it, they want the hands to give up and pull away. It’s better if they do. They’re too tempting, offering Sirius what they want. Love and care and wanting.
Stupidly they let the worst part of their brain take over. None of their brain should be thinking at all. There’s nothing left for them to do that with, and yet they do anyway. Sirius, the idiotic part of them, wants to know what would happen if they reached back to grab onto any of the hands. So they do. They extend their hands toward the ones in their vision. Palm open, inviting them to grab hold. Making it easy for them.
Nearly all of them come close. A few are farther away than others but there’s ones that are close. More than close enough to latch onto them. When their fingertips brush against one, it’s icy and cold. They nearly pull back, but they hold still. Letting the hands grab them, needing them to secure Sirius in their grasp.
They don’t. Sirius tries again but finds that the hands aren’t what are icy. It’s them. They have lost all of the warmth from before, wondering if their breathing will become strained again soon, if they will empty once more. Everything is cold, freezing over. They frantically flail trying to grab hold of any of the hands, slipping just out of reach the second they seem close enough.
It’s not fair. Now that they want to grab on, they can’t. The hands tempted them with nothing. Too good to be true. They give up. Sirius brings their hands back to themself and cradles themself. No one will hold them. They’re too cold for anyone to want. The hands are retracting, giving up on them. Just as they expected they would. There’s no one and nothing left to save them. They know that.
It sounds like they’re upset about it, and in a way they are. But not in the way you might think. Sirius isn’t disappointed that nothing can save them. That would mean they want to be saved. They don’t, not from this. Not from the ability to breathe, the ability to feel weightless. No, this is what they want. It just reminds them of why they’re here. In a way.
They’ve never been worth saving, they’ve never been worth anything. It’s just who they are. There is no reason to care about them, all they have ever been is a burden on everyone. For so long they have tried to make that burden smaller. Becoming easy going, the one that will always go with the flow, all of that. They never push too hard for fear that it will push away, and even then sometimes they snap.
It’s an impossible balance, no wonder they fell.
To always try to stay, to leave anyway. To be exactly what their friends need, to being everything all at once. They’re an echo of who they actually are. More of a blob than anything. Impossible to tell where the fronts they put on for everyone end and Sirius begins. It was all on purpose. If they were perfect in every situation, there would be no reason to leave them behind. They did everything they could to lessen their burden.
None of it was ever enough. They know that now. For most people Sirius was a stepping stone until they found better. Now that they have their people, their real forever people, Sirius isn’t needed. They don’t have a purpose. They would just fade away if they had stayed. This way they are cutting the cord. Going away before anyone could start to wonder why they were still around. This way is easier for everyone.
The hands pull away for good. They expect it, there’s no reason to try to pull them back up. It’s too late now. They continue floating down, wondering how long it will take. It could be over in a few seconds, or it could take hours. Either way is okay really. Sirius has no where to be except for here.
Below them, they hope there are pillows. Something to give them a soft landing. That would be nice, it would be exactly what they need. Weeks, months, and years of barely sleeping and barely functioning have given them a desire for sleep. A peaceful and eternal sleep. Maybe with some good dreams. If that’s all that comes after, then they could be happy with that forever. In their dreams they can pretend to not have gone through all of this. They can stay with the people they love and pretend that everyone loves them back.
They don’t want to crash they don’t want to be pulled back up. The time for hoping for that is over. Long past. All they hope for now is peace. To fade from existence quietly. The free fall when they first stepped off the cliff was like it always is. A rush, almost unwelcome, but they chose it this time. As soon as they reminded their body that, it was easy. Falling turned into floating which is slowly turning into fading.
It feels the same as the days when they don’t feel real. That’s the closest feeling to this that they have experienced before. Moving through life as if controlling your body like a video game. Barely there, minimal thoughts, just barely existing. When they’re alone they barely do or register anything, just waiting for someone else to need them. A background character even in their own life.
Those were the days that would come after their really bad days, or to stop the really bad days from happening at all. When they wanted to, Sirius could force themself into it. Almost disassociating, but to them it felt like ceasing to exist. It wouldn’t be as much of a break as they needed, but it would fix things. For a time at least. A few days like that and then they could go back to normal. It wasn’t very frequent that they would do it, but most people probably never do. So in comparison…
None of that matters now though. Sirius is finally going to fade away completely, they are going to get a quiet that doesn’t suffocate them, they are going to take a deep breath and it will all be okay. They will finally know what it’s like to breathe.
The falling lasts a bit longer. Maybe a few minutes, but time isn’t real anymore so who’s to say. They’re so close to the soft landing below them. It’s right there, they can just about feel it. A pillowy cloud waiting at the bottom of the cliff to carry them away.
And then they feel a pull.
A yank.
A jolt.
Shoved brutally back into their body.
Whatever breathing they got to enjoy momentarily, is taken from them. Their throat feels like it is closing again. They can’t breathe, they nearly choke. It’s awful. It’s loud around their head, banging through their ears. Is this what dying is? They thought it would be nice, they thought it would finally be an end to their agony. This is just more of the same. This is how they have been feeling for most of their life. It’s not fair. They were supposed to be gone. They are supposed to be dead.
It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.It’s not fair. It’s not fair. IT’S NOT FAIR.
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There’s nothing they can do about it. So Sirius shuts their eyes. Squeezes them so tight that not even a sliver of anything can come in. They’re still in nothingness, just a different nothingness than the one they came to enjoy. This might be it, it has to be right? Maybe they are just passing through and it will get better with time. Their eyes are shut so tight that it hurts, but they don’t care. It’s not that bad, they have felt much worse pain than a little pressure in their eyes.
Usually when they can’t breathe like this, they claw at their chest. Or their arms, or their neck. Anything to distract from the way their throat seems to be closing in on itself. Anything to get relief. They don’t bother now. Not like they usually do. Instead Sirius just clenches their fists, nails digging in. It doesn't help at all. Nothing does.
It’s all so much, it’s too much.
And then it’s nothing.
Distantly there is a bird chirping, or maybe it’s an owl cooing. There’s a breeze. Light but still warm. As if coming off of some water, like the lake. Except it’s not quite the same, though it’s familiar. That makes sense, right? It’s summer. Well alive it’s summer so here, wherever here is, must be summer too. Whether it’s a good idea or not, they open their eyes. It’s no longer nothing in front of them.
It’s… hm. They can’t be sure. That certainly looks like the tree across the street from the house they grew up in. The one that they once fell out of, resulting in Regulus laughing at them uncontrollably. He was the only reason their parents found out Sirius had been climbing in the tree at all. Maybe she should have been mad at him for giving her away, but she wasn’t. How could she be mad at him? That’s her little brother.
They look around more, letting themself accept that this is where they are now. Finding peace in it. That’s not hard to do. This is one of their favourite places, or it was years ago. Secondly, they’ve been looking for this peace for so long now, it’s nice to finally have it. To really be done and gone for good. It worked, they went through with it this time. Everything is better. They don’t have to hurt anymore.
Continuing to look around and get their bearings, the ground beneath their feet is uneven. On a slant. A little bit gravelly… Maybe? Oh- it’s the roof. They know this roof. It’s outside their old bedroom window. They haven’t been here in years. Since- well since the first time they were going to die. Obviously they didn’t, but now they have. Isn’t that poetic? Full circle, like their life was always meant to end like this.
“Why aren’t you sitting? Come down here.” And then like he’s been there the whole time, there’s Regulus looking up at them.
Not the Regulus they saw earlier tonight, it’s a Regulus they haven’t seen in even longer. The little brother version of him. So tiny. So young. Maybe not that young, but until recently he has always felt like the smallest kid in the world. Still the four year old that they have to protect. Still the little kid that trailed after them. Sometimes that is still who Sirius sees when they look at him, but that’s not who he is anymore.
He stopped needing Sirius, he became his own person. Rather than just an extension of Sirius. He’s not just a little brother, he’s a full being. Separate. Sirius doesn’t like that. Hasn’t since the shift was noticeable. One day they had a little brother, Reggie, clinging to them, looking to them for help with anything and everything, needing them. The next, perhaps it was even just a blink that went by, and then there was Regulus. An adult, not needing or asking for anything from Sirius. They could fuck right off and he would hardly bat an eye.
It tugs on his heart to see the version they have missed all of these years. He’s not quite the four year old, maybe he’s ten or so. He still looks up at him now with eyes full of wonder and a hint of something else. It’s not sadness, not quite. Sirius sits down next to him, throwing an arm around his shoulders and pulling them close to each other. He leans his head on their shoulder and everything is good.
The stars are brighter than they used to be here. So bright, just like at the lake they think. It crosses their mind that maybe these stars that they grew up seeing, from right here on this roof, were always this bright. Maybe they were shining so bright but Sirius wasn’t able to see through the haze of everything else. Life at home with their parents dulled the entire world. Sirius never had the chance to see them properly like this.
Until now. The constellations they used to trace through the sky together are bright tonight. Illuminating the whole sky, illuminating the tree below. Illuminating everything. This is nice. They can breathe here. They can breathe with Regulus right next to them. He still cares now, he holds onto them tight. His little fists are balled in Sirius’ shirt gripping on so harshly that his knuckles go white.
He tugs. Pulling them closer. Pulling them nearly so hard that they both start to topple over. Instincts kick in and Sirius wraps both arms around him to shield him from hitting the ground. Taking care of him before themself. Making sure they won’t get hurt. Should they fall and then fall off the roof, Sirius will take the brunt of it. Never Regulus.
They don’t fall, but Sirius doesn’t let go of him. With one hand they smooth his hair, it’s still long here, while the other just holds him. They whisper softly, nothing coherent, just reassurances. They’re both okay. They didn’t fall off the roof. For once they are glad to be firmly planted on the ground instead of falling over the edge.
“I’m okay Sirius, it’s okay. I’m taken care of, don’t worry.” He tries to pry himself away. No longer pulling Sirius behind him, just pulling away.
He never used to do that. He never tried to get away from Sirius, not until he was older. Never when something bad has happened or almost happened, that was when he used to cling for protection.
“But- okay yeah. It’s okay. Can you come back here though?” They want to hold onto him for a little while longer. Just in case he’s going to leave for good. Just in case they don’t have more time here.
It was never Regulus to do the leaving though. It’s always been Sirius. Running before anything bad could happen. Running at the first sign of abandonment. Running after snapping at the people they love most. Running from everything. Saving everyone else from having to pry Sirius’ claws out of them. The claw marks remained, but they were taken out by choice. They made it easier for everyone by leaving. But Regulus never left. He always stayed.
Except he’s being pulled away by something now. Or someone. That’s the only explanation to why he’s slipping out of their grasp now.
“Regulus, what- oh. Sirius, hi. You alright?” James asks, looking at them with a puzzling stare.
They don’t answer. They don’t know why James is here. They never were at this house, they don’t know about this roof. Or the tree across the way. They didn’t know Regulus when he was this small. Though when they look back up at their brother, he’s the same one he saw earlier at the lake. The one sitting in the passenger seat in the car just today. The one that doesn’t need them.
Why are they trying to leave? What did they do to push them away now? Sirius reaches out to grab onto one of them. They don’t need it to be Regulus, it can be James too. Just someone. Anyone. They don’t want to be alone. They have never really been good at being alone. Most of the time they are, they don’t want to bother anyone, but it’s not always by choice.
Eventually everyone just leaves them be. Because they aren’t fun to be around or they got too sad and in their head. It’s easier without them around sometimes. And then they get forgotten. If they aren’t the one reaching out, no one does. They end up alone. They try to make the best of it, they really do. It’s just hard. They pretend to like it, pretend like they have some control over it, but they don’t.
The scene around them shifts again. They’re still at the old house, but inside this time. Sirius is sitting on the stairs on the second floor. A little Regulus, he’s even smaller somehow, runs past. They don’t stop him, they want him to have fun. Faintly they can hear what might be a giggle come from his mouth. They hope that’s what it is. He used to laugh so much, he’s starting to again.
Someone sits down next to them. They look over and see their cousin Andromeda there. She used to be around a lot before she ran away. She’s a bit older than them, but it hardly mattered. She always knew how to take care of them. She taught them how to take care of everyone else. Right now she does what she always used to, leans her head on theirs and sits in silence. It’s always been easy like this. Comforting.
Sirius can’t tell if they feel like themself or like the little kid they used to be. It could be either. That little kid has probably always been inside of them somewhere. Just lost. Maybe this is them finding them again. Oh how they have missed them. If they could pick themself up and spin them around and hug them tight, they would. They deserve someone to hold them. They could spend eternity doing that. Especially if it meant they could keep them safe. They never should have felt so much pain.
That little kid might have been happy. At least happier than they grew to be. Sirius doesn’t remember too much from their childhood, it’s all locked away. They love that little Sirius so much. Not despite what it was like, but more because of it. In spite of it. They deserved better, they deserved the world. Instead they got this, nothing, a life not worth living. Their future was ruined and maybe that could have been prevented.
“Sirius?” Another voice comes from behind.
That’s odd. Everything goes blurry again. Still on the stairs, but as they turn to see Remus, everything starts to get even hazier. He shouldn’t be here either. What is he doing here?
It spirals from there. Every second, every time they blink, everything around them changes. The peacefulness they were starting to get used to is gone. It’s pure chaos. Voices come from every direction and they can’t figure out who it is most of the time. Their friends most likely, but nothing is clear anymore.
Hands reach out to grab them and the yelling doesn’t stop. Their throat starts to close again and they feel like they are choking. The taste of charcoal coats their tongue, they gag on it. Too many people are calling out. They never used to do that. It was always Sirius to talk first. Always. They don’t know what to do now that people are yelling their name. Trying to get to them. Trying to catch their attention.
If they could just focus they could figure this out. It’s supposed to be peaceful and happy now. They got through the hard part, life, this is the reward. Breaths of fresh air, happy memories, feeling free. All of that. Whatever this is, is not that. They were wrong about what to expect perhaps. They thought it would be calm.
Sirius can’t see straight, nothing being said makes it through to their brain. They know things are happening around them, but to them the world is just spinning. People are talking, but their ears just have a loud ringing going through them. That’s all it is to Sirius right now, spinning and ringing.
They want to be done, they don’t want this anymore. Whatever this is. They want- they want they want they want…. They don’t know what they want. What is left for them to want? Peace, maybe. More than anything, they want it to all be over.
For just a second, one split one, everything seems to pause. Long enough to give them hope.
“Sirius! Come on, please. Sirius please…” A chorus chants. “No, no, not like this.”
Then they keel over. Thrown into a fit of coughing and retching. It’s horrible.
Then nothing. Shoved back into the darkness.
Is that it? Is that the end?
Are they done now, can they be done?