it'll all work out

You know that feeling when everything is going exactly as you want it to? Life seems perfect, or as perfect as it can. Nothing has gone wrong in a few weeks and things are starting to really look up. There is nothing to complain about. It all seems a little too good to be true. 

That’s because it is. It’s the calm before the storm. Everything is peaceful until it’s not. Everything is perfect until it’s not. You’re happy… Until you aren’t. 

This is where Sirius is at. Weeks ago he thought the dust had settled and the sky cleared. And it had, though only momentarily. Long enough for him to start to feel comfortable and even start to feel a slight bit of hope. Optimism wasn’t his strong suit. It never had been. Not as a kid, nor a teenager, and certainly not now. But something about this time felt different. 

Maybe that’s why it hurts so much when he falls. 

Today is just another day. Neither Sirius or Remus have to work so they are planning to lie in and relax. Their schedules haven’t aligned for nearly two weeks now to give them an entire uninterrupted 24 hours together. Most days Sirius will wake up to an empty bed. That has never really been an issue, at least not lately. He’s been doing good. There have been more good days than bad ones recently and even when he has a bad day, he knows how to deal with it. 

It’s taken years to get to that point. As a teenager he wouldn’t be able to say the same thing. It hurts to think about sometimes. Not just sometimes. That’s a lie, it always hurts to think about it. So he chooses not to. He got better on his own and learned to handle everything by himself. Obviously Remus helps and makes life better, but he wasn’t a magical solution to everything Sirius feels in his heart and head. But none of that really matters, because he’s good. 

Except he wakes with a pit in his stomach and no idea why or what to do about it. Remus’ arms are wrapped around him while his head rests on his chest. The rise and fall of his breathing would usually soothe Sirius. He has one arm draped over Remus’ hip and their legs are tangled together. It should be a perfect morning. 

He looks out the window that is on Remus’ side of the bed and can see the sun just starting to rise. It’s far earlier than Sirius ever wakes up on a typical day and maybe that is why something feels off. Nestling his head further into the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, he still can’t block out the morning light. Whatever the reason his stomach is doing flips and filling up with anxiety is, he doesn’t know. All Sirius wants is for it to go away and for his eyes to close. But he isn’t able to escape it and Remus just sleeps peacefully through it.

In reality, when thinking rationally, Sirius knows he could wake him up and talk through what’s going on with him. He is more than willing to help him when he needs it and has assured him far too many times that he loves and cares about him and will do anything he needs. Sirius just doesn’t want to be a burden. Especially when he has no idea what is wrong right now, just that something is unmistakably wrong. And there is nothing he can do to fix it. 

That’s always been the worst part. Enduring. He knows he can get through, or at least he always has before. So he tells himself that is what will happen again. So why bother anyone else with it, right? If he just ignores it, then the feeling will dissipate and he’ll have forgotten he felt off this morning at all. By the time Remus wakes up, Sirius will be fine again. He’s decided it actually, so that is what will happen.

An hour later he’s still laying here and Remus is still asleep. The difference now is that he rolled over and is no longer holding Sirius in his arms. And the feeling got worse. Ignoring it didn’t work and now he can’t stop thinking about it. Mentally he runs through lists in his mind to figure out what could be wrong. 

When he has felt this way before, usually something else was wrong. Sirius gets these feelings sometimes and they don’t always mean anything, but sometimes they do. Once he woke feeling like this on the day that he ended up finally running away from home. And again the morning that Regulus called him from their childhood home to ask for help. It’s happened when he found out he got a bad grade on a test and even one time when Remus just had a cold. 

But he wakes up feeling like this a lot when it means nothing too. And nothing sticks out to him today. Everyone in his life is doing good, even he’s doing pretty damn good himself. Except for this feeling. It probably means nothing and he can handle that. It’s just one day to push through and he’s gotten through worse before. So it’s okay.

Sirius gets up now that he accepts that sleep is no longer an option and without being held by his boyfriend, laying here isn’t as nice. It’s an early start to the day, but there is nothing wrong with that. Having extra time in the morning, he opts to make breakfast. Not just a quick one that both of them typically have, but a full spread that he can bring to Remus in bed. There are all of the ingredients to make french toast, so that’s what he settles on. 

This is something he has been making for as long as he can remember, and it’s always been one of his safe foods. Unless he just isn’t hungry, he can always count on french toast. Which is a bit odd when he thinks about it since he doesn’t like eggs on their own. But he chooses to not think about that. If he did, things would not go very well. He’s made this for Remus before and he loves it. His mum never made french toast when he was growing up, so he can’t even say it’s not the best. Plus he wouldn’t lie to him. Cooking (or if we’re being honest, anything to do with food) is not Sirius’ strong suit, but he knows how to make a few things. French toast being one of them. 

Looking at his phone’s clock it’s only half past 8 now. If he starts cooking now it will be ready around 9, which is still a bit early for a day when they get to relax all day. So he hops up to sit on the counter and scrolls lazily through his phone to pass the time. That always does the trick. What feels like a few minutes of scrolling is easily an hour of time gone, at which time he deems it a good enough time to start cooking. Sirius pulls all of the ingredients he needs from the fridge and the pantry and preps it all. 

When he cracks the eggs into the bowl a bit gets on his fingers. Sirius winces at the feeling and steps back from the counter. Breathe in and out. That’s all he needs to do. In and out. It’s nothing he can’t simply wash off. In and out. His breathing is rough but he can do this. In and out. Just the two steps to the sink and reaching out to turn it on. In and out. That’s all that stands between him and getting the egg off his fingers. In and out. After a few breaths, ones he meant to be deep but were definitely shallow, he manages to wash his hands. 

This isn’t a set back. Sirius wants that to be clear. Whether he is thinking it for his own sake or to prove it to whoever else, he isn’t sure. But he’s fine and he isn’t slipping. This is just him wanting to be clean. It’s easier to think of in that sense. All he was doing was washing his hands, it didn’t even have anything to do with the food. He just needs to keep going. If he focuses on it any more, he’s not going to get past it. 

So he continues. He whisks everything in the bowl together and it’s perfect. The pan is hot, so he grabs the first piece of bread and uses a fork to dunk it into the mixture and then onto the pan. It makes a nice sizzling noise and the sweet smell of vanilla and cinnamon swirls up through the air. Yeah, Sirius is okay. He’s breathing and feels okay. The feeling at the pit of his stomach seems to have gone away and he feels like he has most days recently. Surprisingly good. 

He flips the first piece and once it’s ready, perfectly golden on both sides, he moves it to a plate. Then he continues with the rest of the bread he pulled out for this. He could, on really good days, eat nearly an entire loaf of bread’s worth of french toast. But most of the time he’s content with just two or three pieces. Enough to get to enjoy the flavors but not too much that it unsettles his stomach. 

Today he makes four total, two for him and two for Remus. They also got berries from the market yesterday, so while the last piece is cooking he pulls them out and washes them in the sink. Once they are thoroughly cleaned, he takes one raspberry, one that looks like the best of the bunch and pops it in his mouth. It’s perfectly sweet. Risking the perfect taste lingering on his tongue, he takes one more. It’s not as good, but still not bad. Sirius stops here so as not to ruin it or push his luck. 

Once everything is all set and looking pretty enough on the plates, he listens to see if Remus is awake. It’s almost 10 now, but he isn’t making any noise from their room and hasn’t come out to see what Sirius is doing. So he decides to take a bite of his french toast before it gets cold. If Remus isn’t up soon enough to eat his warm, he can just reheat it. But Sirius doesn’t like when it’s reheated because it messes with the texture. 

The first bite is… it’s okay. Except that tells him that this might not end well, but he keeps going anyway. It’s much easier to ignore the feelings he gets than to deal with them. Ignoring is always easier than feeling. On top of that, Sirius has been doing so well that he won’t let himself believe that he is slipping again. Not like this. Not with a meal he loves. The next bite is the same. But the third… The third is when everything tastes wrong. 

He spits the last bite out and into the bin. Shit. No, okay no, this is going to be okay. Sirius has been doing great, food hasn’t been an issue lately. Outside of only having a small set of safe foods that he can rely on, nothing has been bad. With Remus’ help he stays on track and eats at least two full meals each day, and if he doesn’t have three he also has a snack. He’s been healthy. For months now. 

Fuck. He wants to scream. This just can’t be happening. Sirius doesn’t want to let it but it is out of his control. He is going to fight like hell to stop it. 

Except he knows what comes next. This is how it’s gone before and it’s hard to stop it once he’s here. Sirius doesn’t want this but before he can figure anything out his breathing is ragged and his hands start to shake. He is going to handle this and get himself back on track. Maybe not with this meal, but later. The rest of the day is still ahead of him and as long as he eats later, it will be fine. 

While getting his breathing under control, he hears Remus’ phone ring and the muffled sounds of him speaking into it. Before he has the chance to get up and come to the kitchen, Sirius moves the untouched slice of bread from his plate to the full one. Then he disposes of the remains of the piece he took a few bites of and pops his plate into the sink. Hiding the evidence. Making it look like he ate his share already. 

No one needs to point out that what he’s doing is bad for him. Sirius knows. He can recognize the behaviors in himself, but no matter how much he tries he can’t stop them. And the worst part is that Remus wouldn’t have any problem with it. He would just make sure that Sirius is okay and take care of him however he needs. It’s just that Sirius is tired of it. He wants to be better, he has been better. There shouldn’t need to be someone looking after him and there to keep him from slipping. Because he should be able to do this alone. 

That’s all he wants. To be okay. But on his own terms, and by getting there on his own. He’s done it before and he can do it again. He wants to do it again. There’s no other option in his head. Well, maybe there is, but that’s not important right now. So for now he will hide this and ignore it until it goes away on its own. 

Carrying the one plate, along with a mug of tea, he nudges the bedroom door open. Remus is sitting up, rubbing his temple with his thumb and forefinger, while his other hand holds the phone against his ear. Stress floods his eyes and is visible all through his body language. It makes Sirius a little uneasy, not knowing what it could be. 

“Yeah, Ma. I’ll call you again in a little bit. Okay? I love you.” He brings the call to a close and then falls back with a sigh. 

“How’s Hope?” He asks. 

Sirius walks the rest of the way to the bed and hands the plate to him while he settles at the foot, sitting cross legged. The smile that replaces the overwhelmed demeanor and frown, makes Sirius feel good. If he can’t take care of himself, at least he can make Remus’ day better. It’s only just started, but it’s clear that something is going to make it a long one. It’s not every day that Hope calls, and definitely never this early. 

“Not good. She had a nurse come to check on her this morning, her heart is acting up again.” Remus shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, his classic way of remaining calm. “Thank you for breakfast, where’s yours?”

“Ate while I was making it, too hungry not to.” He answers without missing a beat. 

The lie comes so naturally that he almost believes it himself. Possibly because it’s not all lie, he did have a few bites and he did eat two berries while cooking. But he knows that isn’t what Remus means. That doesn’t mean he wants to answer the real question though. A part of Sirius immediately regrets lying, but only a little. It’s better that he does. Remus is already worried about his mum, he doesn’t need to worry about him too. And there isn’t even anything to be worried about yet. That much Sirius will admit to. 

“Alright sweetheart. I think I’m going to go back and spend a few days with Ma. You can come if you like, but I won’t be gone to long.” 

This is the moment that he should ask for help. Before it gets worse, before he’s left alone. Before before before. 

But he doesn’t, why would he? 

“Of course, go. I’ll be good here. You know I’ve been good lately, nothing to worry about, love.” Sirius scoots closer and presses a kiss to the same spot he had been massaging as he talked to Hope. 

“I’m going to look at train times and then pack.” Remus pulls his head just a bit closer and kisses him softly. “After I eat this lovely breakfast.” 

He’s very glad that Remus had not started eating yet. The taste on his lips would send him over the edge he thinks. He loves the way Remus tastes usually, and he did not want to risk losing that because of this. As he takes the first few bites, Sirius has to look at something else. Luckily they have a lot of art hanging up on their walls and books on shelves. Easy things for him to focus his eyes on when he needs a distraction. 

It works at first. And then he can hear Remus chewing and that brings his attention back to him and as much as he is Sirius’ favourite thing to look at, he can’t right now. He has to get up and away from the food. The kitchen is still dirty and will probably stay like that until he deals with this and figures out something to eat later. If he were living alone, he would leave it for much longer. But once Remus goes to Wales, it would look very bad for it to still be messy when he gets back. 

Besides, Sirius is going to be fine by the time he gets back. He will be right on track and eating his usual amount each day and nothing will be wrong. This morning was a blip. Nothing to worry about. That’s just the way it will be. People are allowed to have a bad day, but Sirius doesn’t like to. If he has a bad day the gate is open for him to slip into all of his worst habits or tendencies. So he isn’t classifying this morning as a bad day, it was nothing. It didn’t even happen. 

“I’ll get your bag, you keep eating. Faster this way.” He offers to help, if only to just get away  from the food. 

He said he would only be gone a few days so he won’t be needing his big case, just a smaller bag. The one he usually uses for shorter trips is in the hall closet so Sirius goes to grab it, purposefully looking away from the kitchen as he passes. It’s on a high shelf, because everything that is Remus’ is on the taller ones, so he goes up on his toes to hook his fingers on the handles and pull it down. He expects at least something else to tumblr down after the bag, but nothing does. 

An hour later, the bag is packed, Remus put his empty plate in the kitchen sink, and purchases a train ticket on his phone for around 1pm. This means that the flat is being left in whatever state of mess it currently is, even though they usually take turns with the cooking and cleaning so technically it would be Remus’ turn to clean today. He has to leave very soon to ensure he makes it on time, as the next train out wouldn’t be for another four hours. 

So the kitchen is a mess, their bedroom is disorganized, Remus is leaving, and Sirius still hasn’t eaten. Sirius makes this list in his head just to keep everything that he will need to confront momentarily organized. Maybe it helps or maybe is doesn’t, but he does it nonetheless. He knows that Remus likes lists like this, though his are more often written in a journal and are much more practical than this. His are actionable, Sirius’ are not. Well, they could be, but instead he just lists the things that are wrong. 

At least he’s admitting that much. Right?

“Call if you need anything, okay?” 

Remus kisses him, and he looks him right in the eye and hates himself for lying again. “I will. You call too, I can come if you need me to.” 

And then he’s alone. Remus is out the door and headed to the station. It’s a bit far from their flat, otherwise he would go with him. See him onto the train. If it were a longer trip he would absolutely see him off, but it will just be a few days at most, and he just doesn’t have the energy. Getting back here on his own seems like a bad idea, so he stays home. It makes the time alone longer, but at least he can go back and curl up in bed. 

Before doing that, he lights his favourite candle in the room and plops on the sofa while the aroma fills the air. The bedroom smells a bit too much like french toast (and eggs) for his liking right now. Sirius would never be able to get comfortable in there after this morning’s incident with that lingering. As he lays here, the vanilla and rose scent creeps from the bedroom out to the rest of the flat, and it’s welcoming. 

The main problem now, is he has nothing to distract himself. He could turn on the television, but he’s not watching anything. It would just be noise. He can turn on music, which now that he thinks about it, he is going to, but that doesn’t solve anything. There’s just the sounds of the flat, the dim warm lights from the lamps, and the thoughts that Sirius has yet to successfully dispel.

At the top of his list of things he would rather not be thinking about, yet still is, is the fucking french toast. His favorite breakfast food. The one thing he has never grown tired of even once. Growing up he would make it for him and Regulus on days when their parents weren’t around to tell him not to. It’s how he perfected his almost recipe. It’s an almost recipe because he doesn’t measure anything for it, yet it always comes out right. 

It was their thing and both of them were always in the mood for it. Even if one of them was having a bad day, food related or otherwise, french toast was what they wanted. There was always a comfort to it. When Sirius started dating Remus, he made it for him one of the first nights they stayed together. He was hooked on it then too. 

To this day Sirius is still unsure if Remus likes it because it’s really that good, or just because it’s from him. Made with love, or whatever cheesy people say about food. Worst of all there is a chance that he just likes it because he knows it is a safe food for Sirius and wants to encourage him to still eat it. Because even from the first time he made it, Remus has known about all of the intricacies of his relationship with food. The things he eats, the things he doesn’t, all of that. He may not fully understand it, but he takes care of him and watches after him as best he can. 

It’s more than Sirius expects from anyone. Regulus comes a close second, or sometimes even passes Remus in that regard. He gets it, and he won’t force anything. But he will always be there to catch him if he falls, even if Sirius isn’t sure he’s falling until Regulus, or Remus catches him. He’s very grateful for them, though he isn’t sure that he deserves all of that. 

Now he is left to think through how he might have just lost a safe food. French toast is now tainted with how much like eggs it tastes and Sirius isn’t sure if he will ever be able to eat it again. That isn’t something he wants to think about now. So he pushes it away. The next time french toast comes up, he can try again. Not today, it’s a bad idea to try again so soon. 

The bedroom no longer smells like egg, and knowing Remus, not a single crumb hit the duvet or sheets of their bed, so he can crawl right back in. It’s not even much into the afternoon yet, and he woke up way too early for his liking, so he does his best to drift off to sleep again. It’s easier said than done, but luckily they have blackout curtains to block the daylight from seeping in. Why those weren’t drawn overnight, well that would be Sirius’ fault. He had been looking out at the moon and the stars last night and forgot to draw the curtains. He remembers to now though before slipping under the duvet and hiding away from the world. 

It takes a bit to fall into sleep, but eventually he does. It isn’t quite restful, but it’s better than being awake. When he does fully open his eyes again, it’s still dark. But his phone reads that it’s nearly 5 pm. Later than he had planned, and unexpected because he doesn’t feel like he got any sleep, but it’s better than dealing with his thoughts when he is awake. 

His phone displays two texts from Remus and nothing else. Sometimes he will take a nap and come back to hundreds of messages, mostly due to group chats, but others like now are more frequent. He was just checking in and sending him a cute dog he saw on the train and an update that he arrived. Nothing of importance, though Sirius responds right away so he doesn’t forget. Once he clicks his phone off again, he scrambles from the bed realizing that he left the candle burning while he slept. Nothing happened of course, though it’s never good to do that. 

As his body wakes up fully, Sirius needs to stretch his back and arms from the awkward position he had slept in while hugging onto a pillow. It’s much more comfortable laying with the pillows, though it doesn’t help his joints at all. Good thing he prefers cuddling with Remus to being alone with the bed. Really it all works out. 

His stomach grumbles louder than it has in a long time, but he has no desire to do anything about it. Perhaps his body is telling him to, but he doesn’t feel hungry. Don’t some people say that it’s best to eat when you feel like it rather than forcing it? That’s something that Sirius knows he has seen on the internet before, and even if he doesn’t know anything else about it, he’s going with that mindset for today. Why force himself to eat if he doesn’t have an appetite? He settles the debate in his mind and says he will find something a bit later.

There isn’t much for him to do, so he falls back into the bed. Sirius checks his phone again but there is still nothing. Part of him wishes someone had texted him. That way he could talk to someone and distract himself. But no one has. He doesn’t blame them, it’s the middle of the day, some of them are just leaving work or are just busy. And everyone has their own lives that don’t revolve around him. That’s not a problem. 

But he longs for things to be different. It would be nice if someone wanted to talk to him. Sirius knows he wants to talk to people, though he doesn’t have anything to say so there is no reason to reach out first. It wouldn’t work. He would have to make something up and he just doesn’t have the energy to do that. So he doesn’t talk to anyone and his phone gets thrown to the other end of the bed where it will remain for a while. 

At first he lays and stares at the ceiling waiting for the time to pass. Or for his stomach to settle and want food. Neither thing seems to be happening. Which leads Sirius to move to the floor where everything feels a little less real. There isn’t any logic there, but it’s safe on the floor. No one can get to him there and all of his problems are out of reach. The floor is nice, the floor is comforting. 

He thinks that the floor is going to help stop him from spiraling. It doesn’t. 

Some amount of time later, he’s really not sure how long, his phone rings. Picking it up is not necessarily something he wants to do, but he knows he should. It’s probably Remus and that’s important. Even if it is someone else, didn’t he want someone to talk to? That could be good for him. 

“Hi sweetheart.” His voice comes through full of warmth, but sounds a bit strained. 

“Everything okay there?” 

“Pretty much as expected. I’m taking Ma in for some tests in the morning and then I’ll see where we go from here.” Remus exhales. “How are you?”

“Good yeah. I’m good.” Lie.

“What are you up to without me there?” 

“Just making dinner.” Another lie. 

He doesn’t know why he keeps doing that. It’s not like he wants to lie to Remus, he really doesn’t. But then again, his mum is not doing well so why would he bother him with this minor thing right now? Exactly. Sirius is going to have it all figured out and fixed before he comes home so there is no reason at all to tell him. When this lie comes out of his mouth, he checks the time and sees that it is already past 8 pm. So maybe he should take this as a sign and get up to actually make something. Then it won’t be a lie. 

As Remus talks though the phone about the show he and his mum are watching on the TV right now, he rifles through the cabinets and the fridge to see what his options are. There is a frozen pizza which should be okay and there is also chicken he could make, though that is extra effort. The pizza wins in his mind because he can just pop it in the oven and not worry about extra dishes. 

Which reminds him, the dishes are still all over the kitchen and it’s only going to get worse. So he sucks it up and decides to find a pair of gloves to wear while cleaning it all after he eats the pizza. It’s the best he can do and he thinks it’s pretty damn good. In the cabinet below the sink, once he digs a bit, Sirius finds a box of gloves that are perfect for this. He pulls them out and puts them next to the sink to be prepared when he’s done. 

The timer goes off for the pizza and he grabs a pot holder to pull it out of the oven. It looks fine. He has had much better pizza in the past, but a frozen one is always quick and easy and usually pretty decent. At least it’s another meal that has never hurt him. At least it hadn’t before. With the pizza cutter, he cuts himself a fair sized slice and leaves the rest on the counter in case he wants more. 

Since he didn’t really eat earlier, he hopes that he will be hungry enough now. Except when does Sirius ever get what he wants? The first bite is immediately wrong, but he isn’t sure how. Surely it is something that can be fixed, maybe he just needs to pop it back in the oven to get crispier. Except when he does that, it doesn’t fix the problem. 

The cheese is still melted weirdly. The second bite he takes confirms it. As he swallows, the cheese seems to get stuck in his throat and he feels like he’s choking. Nope. He can’t eat this. He can’t do it no matter how he tries. Sirius drops the slice he was trying to take little bites of and it falls to the ground. In his throat the cheese still won’t go away. This is when the panic starts to set in. 

His hand comes up and scratches at his throat as if he could get rid of the cheese like that. Sirius’ other hand shakily holds up his weight on the counter beside him. None of it works and he knows he needs to run and get out of the kitchen. It will be a bigger mess to clean up another time but that doesn’t matter. He just- he has to be away from all of this food that is completely gross to him now. 

It’s because his entire body is starting to shake that it takes so long to make it to the bathroom. He gags and chokes and tries to get the food out of his throat. Sirius hates this, he never wants to do this. It’s why he has safe foods and always sticks to them. Today has apparently been a lesson in the fact that things that have been safe before won’t always be that. 

Laying over the toilet, nothing happens. He coughs and chokes and still nothing. There isn’t much else he can do, but he goes for it because he has to. The sides of his throat feel like it is closing in from the top down. Sirius should be able to reach a finger back and either push hard enough that the cheese and bile come up, or be able to pull it out with ease. Neither happen. Even on another try, nothing happens. When he inevitably shifts to look in the mirror, he sticks his tongue out and reveals that there really is nothing there. He’s convinced there was, but apparently not. 

Sirius admits defeat. Not overall, just for tonight. He can’t. He makes no effort to push himself off the bathroom floor. This is where he lives now. Except it isn’t comforting like the floor is supposed to be. It feels isolating and as much as he hates it, he knows this is what he deserves right now. As good as he was doing before, it couldn’t have lasted and this is what he gets for believing that it would. 

Tears start to come. The reason for them, Sirius doesn’t know. Sadness for himself over the progress he lost? Maybe. Frustration over all of it? Most likely. Either way he can’t stop it so he just lets it happen. This isn’t what he wants. He never wanted to be back here again. But he is and he can’t fucking do anything about it.

Remus isn’t here to help and he’s hours away in Wales, so it’s not even like he can just wait for him to come back. What he needs to do is peel himself off the bathroom floor and get his shit together. He can’t. Or he won’t. One of those two. Probably a bit of both if he’s being honest. 

He goes to do the only other thing he can think of. Even though it’s not a good idea and he once vowed to never do it. He’s not supposed to see him like this, he doesn’t need to see the worst parts of him. It’s not like he would understand. That’s why Sirius has never done this, but he knows he can’t pick himself up from this. Not alone. 

Shakily his hand pulls out his phone. He rolls onto his side so that he doesn’t need to lift the phone up to see it and navigates to the right contact. The deep breath he tries to take to prepare is barely that. It is rocky and jagged and most people wouldn’t classify it as a deep breath, but it is the best he can manage. 

It rings and rings and rings, longer than a call to him normally would, but he finally answer. “Sirius, hi!”

“Ca- Jamie…” He doesn’t know how to say it or what to say. Words just don’t come to him. 

“What’s wrong?” And yet somehow he can tell, just like that. 

“I need… I ne-” Sirius tries to take a real deep breath again, still unsuccessful. He continues despite. “Help me. Can you come?” 

He finally does it. This might just kill him, having to reveal parts of himself to James. The parts he isn’t proud of, the parts that aren’t supposed to still be a problem. None of this was supposed to happen, but he just… He doesn’t have the energy to do it himself. As much as he hates to admit it, someone else needs to take care of him right now. Sometimes that is the only way. 

All he can hope is that this won’t change how James sees him and that they can still be them when all is said and done. All he can hope is that it’ll all work out.