Chapter 6
A couple days later Sirius dragged himself into the common room, flopping down onto his bed in pure exhaustion after a particularly grueling training session.
He practically moaned at the feeling of being off of his feet.
Remus was flicking around through his records absentmindedly. A glint of excitement seemed to befall him when he glanced over at Sirius' current state. He flipped through his music quicker.
“Careful there! Sirius is in one of his moods,” James snickered, “don’t want to rile him up any more.”
“I’m looking for one that will cheer him up.”
“Ooh, good plan, that.”
“He is right here, for your information.” Sirius scoffed, turning away from them onto his side. (which took a great deal of effort to do.)
“Feisty today.” James laughed.
“This one should do…” Remus muttered, pulling out a yellowish album and setting the needle to the very last track.
Sirius’ ears were immediately assaulted by loud and aggressive electric guitar. He groaned, the noise compounding his already throbbing headache.
Baby, baby… I’ve been so sad since you’ve been gone!
“UGH!”
Way back to New York City…
Where you do belong!
James was practically jumping up and down, hooting with laughter. “You didn’t! You didn’t! Lupin! You’re mad!”
Honey I missed your two-tone kisses!
Legs wrapped around me tight-
If I ever get back to Fun City, girl,
I’m gonna make you scream all night!
Sirius was in shock. “How is this even allowed?!”
Honey… Honey, call me on the telephone!
I know you’re moving out to Hollywood-
With your can of tasty foam.
All those beat up friends of mine,
Got to get you in their books.
Sirius pressed his pillow down over his ears.
Lead guitars!
And movie stars!
Get their tongues beneath your hood!
“Turn it off Remus!”
Yeah! You a starfucker, starfucker, starfucker, starfucker, star!
“HOW is this allowed?!”
Yeah, a starfucker, starfucker, starfucker, starfucker, star.
A starfucker, starfucker, starfucker, starfucker, star!
Yeah! I heard about you Polaroid’s,
Now that’s what I call obscene-!
“-THIS is obscene-”
Your tricks with fruit was kind-a cute
I bet you keep your pussy clean!
It went on like that. For the entire nearly four-and-a-half minute long song.
Sirius was too exhausted to get up and shut off the music himself.
The worst part? He couldn’t deny it was catchy.
Remus was putting on another record now, the sleeve of it graphic art of a man standing on a street at night time. Surely nothing could be as bad as the one from before. The disc crackled to life.
Pushing through the market square,
So many mothers sighing.
News had just come over,
We had five years left to cry in.
News guy wept and told us:
Earth was really dying.
Cried so much his face was wet-
Then I knew… He was not lying.
This song was slower, sadder. And though Sirius didn’t exactly know it was about, he felt like crying a bit, too.
He didn’t, though.
The song went on.
It sang of cops, and soldiers, and priests, and queers.
Sirius didn’t know what to think.
He stayed silent.
The musical build was… Enrapturing. It was unlike anything he’d heard before.
It was cold, and it rained, so I felt like an actor-
And I thought of Ma, and I wanted to get back there-
Your face! Your race! The way that you talk!
I kiss you, you’re beautiful! I want you to walk!
We’ve got five years, stuck on my eyes.
Five years, what a surprise.
We’ve got five years, my brain hurts a lot!
Five years, that’s all we’ve got!
He stayed silent for the next song, too. It was psychedelic, and strangely poetic.
Love is careless in its choosing,
Sweeping over across a baby.
Love descends on those defenseless!
Idiot love will spark the fusion!
Inspirations have I none,
Just to touch the flaming dove!
All I have is my love of love,
And love is not loving…
James giggled when they had all made it through a whole song without commenting anything. “I think you broke him, mate.”
“Shush, I’m listening.” Sirius hissed.
I’m an alligator!
I’m a mama-papa comin’ for you…
I’m the space invader-
I’ll be a rock ‘n’ rollin’ bitch for you…
Sirius sat up in his bed.
Remus was staring at him. Right at him. With those big brown eyes and an easy smile. Fuck.
Keep your ‘lectric eye on me, babe…
Put your ray gun to my head…
Press your space face close to mine, love…
Sirius was burning with some kind of embarrassment, or perhaps maybe shame. Remus did not look away. Not even as the songs changed.
There’s a starman-
waiting in the sky…
He’d like to come and meet us,
But he thinks he’d blow our minds.
There’s a starman-
Waiting in the sky…
He’s told us not to blow it,
‘Cause he knows it’s all worthwhile-
He told me-!
“I was named after a star…” Sirius whispered.
Remus’ smile grew. “I know.”
He hadn't expected anyone to hear him.
Another song passed with silence between them. And then-
People stared at the makeup on his face.
Laughed at his long black hair, his animal grace…
The boy in the bright blue jeans-
Jumped up on the stage.
And lady stardust sang his songs-
Of darkness and disgrace.
Somehow, ridiculously, it almost felt like the song was being sung directly to him, even though it was just some mass-produced long player his roommate had bought. He supposed that that was the true power of art, of music; that it could be played to the masses and yet speak to individual souls.
Sirius had liked music, of course. The classical records he owned, the songs he would skate to, the songs his brother would play. They were beautiful. Brilliant. Masterpieces in their own right. But never had he listened to any of them and felt like the songs were written for him.
Sirius felt as though something had changed inside of him. Perhaps something that had been inside of him all along had been dormant, sleeping, and had finally decided to wake up. He felt energized.
All (or most) of the exhaustion he had felt from before seemed to have evaporated, leaving inspiration in its wake. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he stood up and strode to the door of their room. “Well,” he sighed, “if you’re all done having a laugh at me, I’d like to make my escape now to end the torture, and go back to what I should be doing, anyway. Practicing.” With that, he picked up the bladed boots he had unceremoniously dropped at the doorway earlier, and glided out into the hallway.
October passed quickly.
Off-Put by the emotions Remus’ music had brought on at the beginning of the month, Sirius had dove even harder into his practice, training well past the amount of weekly hours that were required or expected.
He withdrew from everyone, even James, which was extremely hard to do- not just because the man was persistent as all hell, but because Sirius had grown very fond of his antics. And, just him in general, really.
At the end of each day, Sirius would practically crawl back to their room, his muscles would shake violently as he would lower himself into his nightly ice-bath. One night, he was so weak, he thought for a moment that he wouldn’t be able to get back up again.
Each time he would try to push himself to a standing position, his legs would give out, and he would slip, crashing back into the freezing cold water, sloshing it all over the place, ice cubes clacking together along the surface.
Eventually, he gave up trying to stand at all, and simply used his arms to pull him up onto the side of the tub, with difficulty, then roll off, flopping onto the hard, (now slippery,) tile floor.
He just lay there for a few moments, body aching, head throbbing. Nauseous. Cold.
There was a quiet knock at the door, then.
Scrambling to grab a towel and cover his nakedness and overall pathetic state, he called out. “Yeah?”
He expected it to be James, but-
“Padfoot?”
Everything in his mind came to a grinding halt.
The door slowly, slowly opened. Just wide enough for someone on the thin-side to slip through.
Remus closed it quickly behind him with a click. When he turned back around to look at the boy on the floor, wrapped up in a damp towel, his face fell. “Sirius…”
“I never said you could just come in, you know.” He snapped.
“Sirius… You’re covered in bruises.”
It was true, he was. He had gotten sloppy in his exhaustion, and had taken a considerable amount of falls.
I’ve gotten lazy. Gotten rusty, not good enough. Not good enough, not good enough, not good enough, not good enough not good enough not good enough not good enough not good enough not good enough NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOTGOODENOUGHNOT-
Sirius’ thoughts were interrupted when Remus knelt and touched his cheek.
He flinched away violently, surprised and bewildered.
Remus recoiled at the other man’s reaction like his skin had burned him. “Sorry! I’m- It’s just… You’re bleeding.”
Dazedly, Sirius brought up a hand to touch his face. Sure enough, a trickle of red liquid was running down his chin. His lip was cut open.
He must’ve bit it when he half-rolled-half-fell out of the bathtub and onto the floor.
He ran his tongue over the abrasion, tasting the metallic flavour of blood.
Remus didn’t ask him anything else, didn’t even say much more, really. Just got to work.
He wet a washcloth with warm water and dabbed it over Sirius’ busted lip.
Sirius let him.
He got fresh towels and mopped up the semi-flooded floor.
Sirius let him.
He drained the tub and Sirius let him.
He spread a salve on the bruises that littered Sirius’ pale skin and Sirius let him.
He left briefly and returned with dry, fresh clothes from Sirius’ drawers to wear.
He set them down on the (now dry) floor and helped Sirius to his feet.
Sirius let him.
“I assume you’ve got it from here?” He asked, quietly.
Sirius was quiet, for a moment, until, “Why?”
Remus cocked his head to the side. “Why what?”
“Why are you helping me? Why are you… Being so nice?”
Remus gestured vaguely. “...I’m a boxer. I’m friends with boxers. I’m used to it. Helping people. Patching them up. Patching up myself.”
“Why did you come in here?”
“You’d been in here a while. I heard you fall.”
“I didn’t fall.”
Remus raised an eyebrow.
Sirius huffed.
“Y’know, normally people just say thank you.”
“Look, if you’re trying to-”
“I’m not.” Remus’ gaze had a new sort of intensity to it, now.
Sirius nodded. “Great. Um. Yeah.”
"Listen, Padfoot, I'm not entirely sure what's going on, but you're going to injure yourself if you keep this up. More than you already have, I mean."
Sirius stiffened. "You're right. You don't know what's going on."
Remus dragged a hand down his face in frustration. "Just- just look, okay? I'm not trying to force you to do anything. All I'm saying is that it's Halloween in three days and there's going to be a party. Big things like that aren't particularly my scene, but Pete and James have managed to convince me, and I think they'd both be sad if you didn't show up for it. James has been trying to find an opportunity to talk to you. We all have. But you don't let us get anywhere near you lately. All you've been doing is practicing. We're concerned."
Sirius glared at him, feeling exposed still wearing only a towel, his clothes folded neatly beside him. He sighed. "Please just go."
Remus left him.
He got dressed quickly and headed to bed, collapsing into warm sheets, finally not feeling cold.