makes you wanna run and hide
Sirius ran out of Remus’ apartment and directly to James’. He had assumed James would be home because it was a Friday night, and James usually returned home during the weekend. No one answered the door, so Sirius pulled out the spare key he took everywhere and let himself in.
It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep in James’ bed because it was around three in the morning when he fell onto the covers; that had been a particular mercy. Sirius couldn’t handle his own thoughts, and he couldn’t run from them like he had run from Remus. He would be internally and perhaps externally cringing over what he had done. Sirius didn’t know what he would do–what he would say when he had to face Remus again. This was why he needed to talk to James, who was traitorously not home or answering his phone.
The slam of a door vibrated throughout the apartment, pulling Sirius from his sleep. It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t in his own apartment, which eased his panic thinking of him being robbed. Sirius spent enough time in James’ apartment that it felt as much like a home as his did. Ease settled in when he realized James had probably gotten back from wherever he had been.
In an effort to rise graciously out of bed, Sirius pushed himself off the mattress and then plummeted to the ground. James must have heard him because footsteps hurriedly began moving toward him, and the door flew open.
“Sirius?” James stopped in the doorway, a roll of paper towels in his hand.
“You know you should really vacuum sometime,” he muttered, rising to his feet. Sirius’ eyes flitted to the paper towels, and he realized the absurdity. “Why do you have that?”
James looked at the roll like he was also learning they were in his hands. “I thought there was an intruder…”
“And you planned to fight me off with paper?” Sirius asked slowly.
“I suppose so,” James replied, almost confused.
Sirius laughed, shaking his head. “You might as well have come to the door with nothing to fight with.”
“They were the first thing I saw when I heard you”–he surveyed the messed up sheets–“fall out of my bed?”
“You woke me up,” Sirius mumbled, pushing past James in the doorway to get coffee.
James’ steps followed him. “Right, my first question. Why are you here? Is something wrong with your apartment?”
While it was nowhere near uncommon for Sirius to hang around James’ place, he typically did it at times when James was there. And if James wasn’t there, it was because he had been at some point and then left or because they had plans and Sirius happened to get to his apartment first.
The truth was, Sirius just liked James’ apartment more than he liked his. James had such a significant presence that he was able to make any room he was in feel like home. Sirius’ apartment often felt so empty. It didn’t smell like James or have enough distractions to quiet all of the thoughts that ran through Sirius’ head.
Especially now, after he had seen Regulus–
No, he couldn’t think about that.
“I just wanted to see you.” It wasn’t a lie; Sirius always wanted to see James, but James knew it wasn’t the whole truth. “Plus, I fucked up last night, and I didn’t want to be alone.” Sirius exhaled sharply. “Speaking of, where were you?”
“Do you want coffee?” James asked, stepping away from Sirius so he could grab two mugs.
Sirius began putting coffee grounds into the coffee machine while James filled the pot with water in a well-rehearsed routine. “Don’t avoid the question,” Sirius pressed on because James had gotten uncharacteristically quiet.
James cleared his throat. “We wrapped up filming late last night, so I decided to sleep at the hotel and come back this morning. I called you when I woke up, but you didn’t answer,” he explained, making Sirius remember he had a phone he had thrown onto the couch when James hadn't picked up the previous night.
Without a response, Sirius darted to the living room, where he quickly located his phone sitting on a folded blanket. He turned it on to find multiple missed calls from James but nothing from Remus, which made him wonder if Remus was mad at him. Sirius had just left. He wouldn’t have blamed Remus if he was angry.
Perhaps, in hindsight, Sirius could admit that he had acted rashly. However, Sirius hadn’t slipped up about understanding French in years. He had mastered the art of acting confused if someone spoke French and avoiding anything French. Sirius hadn’t caught up on television series he had enjoyed or willingly listened to a single song in French.
He had successfully erased that part of his past from himself. The only people who knew about it were the ones he had met before he set fire to anything that connected him to his family. Sometimes, he even thought that James had forgotten he wasn’t British. Effie and Monty hadn’t mentioned it in years.
Sirius occasionally forgot about it. He had gotten used to never thinking about it anymore. He didn’t think in French anymore, and he didn’t dream in French. He was happy about it because everything in that language, in that country, was connected to his family. Sirius thought of himself more as British than he did as French.
Yet, when that character had spoken French, lying in Remus’ arms, Sirius had forgotten he wasn’t supposed to know what they said. He wasn’t supposed to laugh at the joke. He wasn’t supposed to start explaining what they had said to Remus. It caught him in so much shock that Sirius physically ran from the realization.
Remus had made him feel so comfortable and safe that the walls he had been perfecting–the walls that worked–had dropped. For the first time in years, they had fallen. Sirius had forgotten he was supposed to hate that part of himself, and he did. He hated it so much that if he could have replaced his blood and flesh, he would have, but he couldn’t.
So he stuck to acting like he wasn’t like the rest of his family, hoping that if he said it enough, it would become true. But something so different had become true, and Remus didn’t even know it. He was probably so confused as to why Sirius had run out. God, Sirius hoped he didn’t blame himself for it. Besides, how would he explain it to Remus without revealing that he had been lying to the entire world? Was Remus ready to hear that? Was Sirius ready to tell it?
“Here’s your coffee.” James came from behind him, handing him the steaming mug.
Sirius dropped his phone and took it. He slowly sipped it to avoid burning his tongue and was again reminded why he came to James’ apartment for good coffee. James had traveled to almost as many countries to play soccer as Sirius had gone on tours, but James had spent it more productively. He had a long-time goal of finding the best cup of coffee in the world. He swore he hadn’t found it, but he seemed to have found something close during some games in Brazil. Sirius was willing to call the coffee James had shipped from Brazil monthly the best coffee in the world, but he had tried it once and was lectured.
James sat down and grabbed the remote. The television opened automatically to a soccer game, and Sirius didn’t miss the flash of pain that crossed James’ face before it disappeared again. In a way, James had lost the love of his life, and Sirius had almost lost his mind because he couldn’t do anything about it. The one thing he could do, however, was steal the remote from James’ hand and turn off the television.
“So, how was shooting this week?” Sirius asked, trying to get James’ mind off the memories he could practically see replaying in his head.
Something else flooded James’ expression, but Sirius couldn’t decipher it before it disappeared. “It was fine. We’re going to finish filming in the next couple of weeks.” James took a sip of his coffee. “Anyway, you said you fucked up. What’d you do?”
Sirius cleared his throat. “So I was hanging out with Remus,” he started, drinking more of his coffee.
James nodded. “Right. That’s still going well, then?” he asked.
Sirius and James hadn’t had the time to have a full-length conversation about how things with Remus were going because James had been working the entire week. Their communication mainly had consisted of texts but nothing else. However, they knew how to handle the distance. There had been years at some point where they could only see each other once every six months, so learning how to call and text when they could had been essential.
“It was until I ran out on him,” Sirius said, then explained the rest of the story.
“I’m assuming you don’t want to tell him you’re French and explain that whole story.” James nodded as Sirius shook his head. “Right, well you could always try telling him part of the truth.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll just tell the guy I’ve been seeing for about a week that he’s good for me and makes me feel comfortable, which scared the shit out of me. That definitely won’t make him run,” he replied in a monotone.
James shrugged. “I mean, Dad did tell Mom she was his soulmate about a week into their relationship. The right one won’t run, I suppose.”
“Not every relationship is the one your parents have. I wish I could have one like theirs,” Sirius said, leaving off the part about knowing he would never because he was too fucked up of a person not to ruin a relationship like that the moment he got it.
That was what he was doing right now: screwing up something good because of his past.
“I do, too,” James sighed. “Maybe give it a day and then see what you’re willing to tell him. Do you think this could last?”
Sirius stared into his mug. “I really do.”
There was a long pause, and yet again, Sirius couldn’t figure out what was going through James’ head, which was unusual because he was so good at it. “Then you’ll have to tell him the truth, sooner or later,” James whispered.
“You’re right,” Sirius admitted just as quietly as James.
Perhaps he was somewhat of a coward, but Sirius took the easy way out of a vulnerable conversation. He turned on the television, quickly changing from the soccer game to anything else. They eventually found a rerun of a show they both enjoyed, but there was a weight on Sirius’ chest that would not ease.
It felt like maybe Sirius could tell Remus his story, at least part of it. Sirius had never told anyone about any part of his past before he had run away, other than James. However, the panic was still deep in his soul. Just because Remus might not run from the deep depths of Sirius’ past didn’t mean he wouldn’t. If Sirius could have chosen, he would have run from himself, too.