Chapter 2
James has been left home alone for almost thirty-six hours at this point. It’s not that long of a time, and he’s been alone for longer but even he knows he shouldn’t have been allowed to do this, even if he’d never admit it. He was fine for a little bit, a few hours maybe until the sun threw a tantrum as it went down, turning the sky red. He watched the sunset, waiting for the stars to arrive, and felt fine, but then it just got quiet. Too quiet.
Regulus called him then to tell him about his day and ask after his. He left on a trip with Pandora they’ve been planning it for ages. He thought about canceling it but the idea of him not going because of James makes his chest ache so he told him to go anyway. After all, he’s been fine. He even managed to be productive in the hours after he left. Then the creeping feeling snuck back into his chest. No one else had called him besides Regulus and maybe that’s why. He’s been left to his own devices and no one has bothered to reach out. Not that he wants to be pitied, but a text would be nice.
The second day was far worse than the first he could barely get out of bed. He woke up early, and he did every day but this was different. He stayed in bed for hours, refusing to go on his phone because he knew no one reached out, which left him with no distractions. Not that he really needed them. His eyes went hazy after a while. He was on Regulus’ side of the bed, he usually gravitates towards it when he’s not there. They don’t spend many nights apart if they can help it. He ended up calling a few hours later when he woke up himself, sounding groggy and still half-lost in sleep. James hummed staying quiet pretending it was the same for him. He didn’t mean to lie, but he didn’t want Regulus to cancel his trip on his part. It had only been a day, he really thought he could handle it.
The day got away from him, and he’s not exactly sure how long he’s been staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. The thing is he doesn’t even hate what he sees. He doesn’t feel anything. Every time he moves a muscle there’s a distinct disconnect it doesn’t feel like him anymore. The person standing in front of him is not him, and it’s strange that it was at some point. Everything just seems a little off. He knows he should look away, nothing good will come from staring, but he can’t help it. He’s trying to find the connection between them. To be tossed straight back into his body, but there’s nothing. That’s not him. It’s not even the red eyes and dark under-eye circles though it’s a part of it. It’s everything. He can’t recognize himself.
His phone buzzes on the counter and it takes him a long time to register it’s even going on, and even longer to pick it up and answer it.
“Hi baby,” Regulus’ voice sounds distorted through the phone, James wishes he were here instead. He’d never ask him though, he can’t. It would just make it worse with the guilt anyway.
“Hi,” James tries to keep his voice light but it’s hard when the figure in the mirror keeps staring at him like that. His chest keeps hurting, he can feel it burn. “How was your day?”
“I was just dragged around by Pandora mostly,” He says, “She had a few shops she wanted to go in. We’re getting dinner now, she picked again. She tells me tomorrow will be my day but she said the same thing about today, you know her.”
James hums nonsensically, he really tries to pay attention to him, but his voice normally lulls him. It brings him back into his body, but it doesn’t work as well over the phone. When he speaks he sees his lips moving but he doesn’t hear his voice coming out of it. It sounds like someone else too. “Where are you going?”
“No idea,” Regulus says, he sounds farther away now, “She said dress fancy but that could mean fast food and she just wanted to make an event out of it.”
James laughs, but it’s weird he doesn’t feel it, “You’re going all out then?”
“Something like that,” Regulus grumbles, “I didn’t bring anything nice.”
“All your clothes are nice,” James says, and he’s not even lying. Unless he’s wearing James’ clothes Regulus is hardly underdressed.
Regulus hums shortly, “Have you eaten yet?”
James pauses, it’s the first time he’s really thought about it really. He doesn’t really have an appetite when he gets like this. He can eat when he thinks about it, he knows he needs to, but walking to the kitchen is sometimes a chore he just doesn’t have in him. Especially when there’s nothing to just grab before walking back to bed, and from what he knows they have nothing in the house that they don’t have to prepare. Regulus does a lot of the cooking, Effie taught him when they first started going out together. He’s been hooked on it ever since, or at the very least he does it so James won’t start a fire, or when he really doesn’t have the energy for it. “I’ll get something.”
“You okay?”
Sometimes James hates that Regulus can read him so easily. He hates having to ask for help so it’s nice in that regard, but in times like this it’s brutal. Regulus can’t randomly show up here every time James catches a glimpse of a mirror, or has that pull in his chest to lie on the floor for hours. He doesn’t want Regulus to feel forced to take care of him just because they’re together. Regulus says he’s not. He says he loves him no matter how he is. James can never find himself believing him, even when he is doing okay.
“Yeah, just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night,” James lies, he knows he can’t fully lie. If he says he’s perfectly fine Regulus will be on the next train home. So he tells a white lie instead. Technically he is tired, but he’s slept more today than he has in days. Forcing his lips into a smile he adds, “I’m blaming you.”
Regulus scoffs with laughter, “I’ll be home soon.”
“Two weeks,” James says.
“Ten days,” Regulus corrects.
“Too long.”
“I’ll call you before you go to sleep,” Regulus suggests, “What about that?”
He wants to say yes, but he doesn’t trust himself when it gets that late. He loses his filter, it’s why Regulus knows so much about him in the first place. He would’ve told him eventually, or at least he thinks he would. Though if they didn’t share a bed he’d know a lot less. “No, enjoy your night I’ll probably go to bed early anyway.”
“I’ll call you in the morning then.”
James knows he’s not getting out of it, and he knows he shouldn’t try. He’ll regret it if he does. “Good.”
“I’ve got to go, Pandora’s gonna start kicking down the door soon,” Regulus says. James can hear him put his shoes on. He almost wants to ask him to stay on the line, almost. “Go eat something, will you?”
“I promise I will,” James says, and he might. As soon as he gets out of the mirror he will. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
James is the first to hang up the phone, he doesn’t like it being the other way around. Especially not when he gets like this. They never say goodbye when they’re on the phone, he’s not sure when that started. He sets the phone back on the counter, letting the silence burrow into his ears. His fingers twitch but he knows he shouldn’t do anything with the urge. So he keeps staring instead, waiting for the image to look away.
It’s not like he’s going to do anything, but when he gets like this Regulus makes him keep the door open whenever he takes a shower. There’s no one here now, whether the door is open or not it doesn’t do anything. His gaze grazes his arm, he’s certain if he did he wouldn’t feel anything, or maybe he would. Maybe it would break the spell. He looks back in the mirror. He’s still not fully out of it, he can tell when he is. He knows he doesn’t want Regulus to come home and see him like this. He’d never leave the house again, it took him long enough to just be convinced that it was an okay idea. James promised it would be fine, so it has to be. He still wants to call him back though.
Looking back he finds his eyes. He’s not sure when he started feeling like this, it’s hard to pin down. It’s always been looming over his head, the idea of never really being good enough. It kinda spiraled from there. He needed people to like him and he did it the only way he could. He shut himself down for a while, and would go days with his head empty. He didn’t think unless someone was talking to him and even then he was on autopilot. He had moments of clarity of course, but he didn’t come fully out of it until Regulus guided him through it. Now he’s left staring in the mirror and wondering who that person is. He thought he knew once, or maybe he never did. He just wants to feel again. Even if it’s bad, he’ll take anything. He doesn’t want to shut himself down, but he can feel it infecting his mind.
It’s slow at first, he didn’t even realize it was happening. He could get everything done he needed to get done, he did a little work and cleaned the house up a bit. Regulus keeps it pretty neat but there were dishes and the living room certainly looked better. It was fine, his energy was up. Maybe he used it all too soon or maybe he didn’t have any to begin with. Either way, he’s still here. Every breath he takes is heavy, and he’s not sure what to do with that.
When he’s alone he can’t really tell if he’s in a dream or not, he almost thinks if he pinches his skin it’ll follow his finger. If he closes his eyes maybe he’ll just disappear. He’ll wake with a normal brain and Regulus will be beside him. He’ll kiss his cheek and follow his tail as he goes to make breakfast for the two of them. Set up the music and watch Regulus roll his eyes at all the songs he chooses. It’s strange even that doesn’t seem real. He’s lived it. He knows it happened. He can picture the scene perfectly, but he’s always standing in the doorway, not strong enough to pass the precipice. He sees himself laughing at everything Regulus says, genuine happiness sitting on his face. He can taste it slipping down his throat until he’s choking on it. It doesn’t feel real. He doesn’t think anything does.
Slowly he sinks to the tiles on the floor, It’s cold but it does nothing to help the migraine that’s been pushing at his head all day. He’s chosen to ignore it. Now that he thinks about it it’s probably because he hasn’t eaten anything, he’ll get something before he goes to bed. He’s sure they have a box of cereal pushed into a back cabinet somewhere. He can have some of that. He’s not sure if they have milk though. He’d close his eyes but it’s no better than staring at the light above him. He doesn’t think anything will be better, so he takes off his glasses. To be surrounded by fog. He can’t see anything, and nothing can see him. He forces himself to take a breath, fighting back all the urges jumping around in his head. He’s not going to do anything, even if he thinks it’ll fix everything.
He’d shut off the lights if he could get up. That would help a little. It wouldn’t solve anything but it could make it easier to disappear.
He knows the floor should be uncomfortable but the longer he lies there the less he feels. He doesn’t fall asleep, he doesn’t really do anything. He just stares, his head too heavy to think. He’s not thinking about everything he has to do, the list just keeps getting bigger with each passing day. Small tasks get larger until even taking a shower feels like a mountain to cross. He can’t stand himself when he gets like this. He’s not sure why anyone else can. Not even how they can love him, he’s not sure how they can tolerate him.
He blinks slowly as he watches the ceiling spin. He’s not sure why he’s even like this. He grew up well. He didn’t have any overwhelming trauma, it doesn’t fit the perfect storyline he has for himself. That’s not fair. He won’t ever complain about it though. There’s nothing to complain about.
His phone is buzzing on the counter, he’s not sure how long that’s been happening, he’s only just now noticed it. It might be Regulus again, he’s not sure how long it’s been his dinner could be over at this point, but he said he wouldn’t call. No one else has reached out though so it has to be him. It takes a lot out of him to reach up and grab it, he can feel the tiles digging into his back. Maybe he really should move to the bed, but he has to eat first. Which means going all the way to the kitchen, and then all the way back to the bathroom to actually get ready for bed. Too many tasks. He doesn’t have energy for any of it. So here is good.
The screen is blurry as soon as he pulls it down towards him, but it’s not Regulus. It’s Sirius. His chest sinks, it’s late. Not that Sirius isn’t up all hours of the night anyway. Normally when he does call he just wants to tell him something stupid and is too lazy to type. James almost doesn’t answer, but he forces himself to sit up and click accept anyway. He would worry if he didn’t.
“Sirius hi!” He winces, he’s overcompensating. At least it’s not Regulus, if it was him he’d notice right away.
“Ca—Jamie…” Sirius croaks, and James immediately knows something is wrong. His hands shake but he’s not sure if they were already, he can’t remember.
“What’s wrong?” He hears himself ask.
“I need… I ne—“ Sirius takes a shaky breath, “Help me. Can you come?”
James feels the walls building back in his chest, and despite his legs feeling his lead he stands anyway, using the counter to help him, “Yeah ‘course, I’ll be right there.”
Sirius hums weakly, “Okay.”
He can put himself behind him for Sirius, it’s even better actually. He doesn’t have to think anymore. Not that he wants to use this as a distraction, it’s really not. Sirius needs him so he’ll be there, anytime, anywhere. “Do you want me to stay on the line?” He asks, rushing into the bedroom, to slip his shoes on. He grabs one of Regulus’ sweaters too, it helps when the panic starts to set in. It’s not there yet, but he knows forcing himself to be “normal,” will bring it on. It’ll help, hopefully. He’s not sure if he can deal with his chest hurting while he’s not home. It’s summer, he really doesn’t need it but he leaves it on anyway. Plus it covers his arms. There’s not anything new to see but seeing the old might set him off.
“Yes,” Sirius whispers.
“Okay,” James says, “I’m on my way.”
They don’t talk as he drives over but they know the other person is there and that’s enough. James keeps the music low, he wouldn’t have it on at all but he can’t drive without it. The one time he did he got in his own head and overshot his location by an hour. Almost ran out of gas having the drive back, so yes music is nice. Plus Sirius doesn’t say anything, so he thinks it’s fine to leave it on. It’s static pretty much over the radio but he doesn’t have it in him to change it. Messing with it probably isn’t the smartest idea and Sirius doesn’t even live that far away. Ten minutes tops.
He uses his spare key to get in and only hangs up as soon as he walks through the door, “Sirius?” He calls out. When no call comes he walks over to the bedroom to find it empty. He passes the kitchen filled with dirty dishes, he’ll clean those when he gets the chance. As soon as he knows Sirius is okay. When he checks the bathroom he finds him on the floor, curled into himself. James kneels beside him, “Hi.”
Sirius looks up at him, and he can see guilt lining the edges of them. James wants to push it away, he needs Sirius to understand that he’s here whether he likes it or not. Nothing he can do will push him away, he’s here for him when he’s at his worst. And yes he knows it’s very hypocritical for him to say this when he doesn’t believe it himself, but he can’t help it. Sirius is everything. James would do anything for him. It’s not the same when it’s himself.
That being said he’s not exactly sure what to do, being in the same position not even thirty minutes before. He can see tears lining Sirius's face but he doesn’t really seem to see him. He’s there but at the same time, he’s gone far away. “Let’s get you up, yeah?” James says softly, “I can get you into bed.”
Sirius's gaze falls on him and for a second he doesn’t think he’ll listen to him, but eventually, he manages to get himself up, he stumbles slightly but James wraps his arm around his waist to keep him steady. James hasn’t really been in this position, not with Sirius. He knows some things, of course, they’ve been friends for ages, but he’s far from knowing everything. Sirius doesn’t know anything about him, so it should be fair but he still feels guilty about it. He’s not exactly sure how to help him, but he gets him into bed at the very least. As soon as he does he just stands looking down on him. He probably won’t want to eat, he knows he can get weird about it sometimes and he’s sure it’ll be hard when he’s like this.
“Do you want me to get anything?” James asks, slowly pulling his hair out of his face.
Sirius numbly buries his face in his pillow with a shake of his head, “Sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” James murmurs, and he means it. Sirius could never do anything wrong, not in his eyes anyway. “You did nothing wrong.”
When Sirius looks at him he can tell he doesn’t believe him, “You didn’t have to come.”
“You asked me to,” James says, “Of course I came.”
Sirius looks away again, though he doesn’t close his eyes, he just sits there, wrapping the blankets tighter around himself. James wishes he could do something. He should know what to do. “I’m gonna go clean the kitchen up a little,” he says instead, “If you need anything you can call me back in here.”
Sirius nods but James doesn’t know if he really hears him. He keeps the lights off when he leaves, and gets into the kitchen. He likes having something to do with his hands, so this is fine. There’s a frozen pizza sitting out, hardly eaten at all and he puts it back into the fridge, maybe he’ll want some of it later. The rest of the dishes he scrubs down pretty easily, it doesn’t take him that long. He regrets not bringing headphones for music, he’d only put one in, of course, in case Sirius needed something but he doesn’t want to play it out loud in case Sirius can hear it. So silence will have to do. He dries them all too putting them all way in their respective places. He can feel his energy draining when he shuts the lights off and moves into the living room to straighten some things out, but it’s better if he keeps it up. Sitting down won’t do him any good. Eventually, he’ll attempt to fall asleep next to Sirius, but he has to keep going for now. He doesn’t want Sirius to wake to a messy house anyway, he knows how it gets when little tasks build up.
When he gets back into the bedroom it’s late, he can feel it in his bones even without looking at the clock. Sirius looks to be sleeping, breathing in and out calmly and James watches him for a while, keeping his eyes on his chest watching as it goes in and out, like a parent would a toddler. He doesn’t want to wake him, so he stays in the doorway for as long as he can without his legs giving out underneath him. He knows they’ll have a lot to deal with in the morning but at least Sirius is asleep now. When James wakes up he’ll be better, his chest will stop hurting and he’ll actually be able to help him. Putting him to sleep was one thing but it didn’t really help.
He isn’t thinking before he walks in the bathroom. He’s only planning to get ready to sleep, he has a toothbrush here. He doesn’t stay over a lot but he needs his routine, Remus knows that. So he’s kept everything here he needs for his routine just for an emergency situation, or a night when he gets too drunk or tired to walk home by himself. He can’t sleep without it, but now he’s back in front of the mirror. It’s different, but it’s the same too. He sees the same figure looming over him like a shadow. Except now it’s later and he feels his throat close at the very sight of it. He can’t cry here, not now. He didn’t cry at home he won’t now too. He turns away, grabbing the toothpaste trying to make it quick. He just needs to get out of here, as soon as he does he’ll sleep and everything will be fine. But he keeps catching glimpses of himself. He feels a sharp pain in his chest. It spreads until it’s everywhere. With every breath he takes it feels like he isn’t getting enough air in. He wants to rip out his chest. He should call Regulus but it’s late and he can’t bother him, so he bites the inside of his cheek instead trying to stop himself from whimpering.
He can’t do this. He spits out into the sink, looking back up on instinct, there’s still toothpaste on his lip. Fuck.
This can’t happen here, not now. He can’t do this when he’s not at home. He doesn’t know how to deal with it outside of it. He has before, of course, but Regulus has always been there. Regulus isn’t here. He needs Regulus here but he can’t call him. He pulls the sweater over the palms of his hands but even the warmth does nothing. He feels sick. Keeping his hands on the counter he leans his head down, it’s going to be fine. Sirius is right outside this door, so it has to be fine.
He feels his hands twitch again, but he can’t do that here. His tears are hot on his face as they slip down, he rushes to take his glasses off. Blurry is good. Blurry is nice. But he still can’t take a breath. He’s stuck standing in this bathroom just waiting. He has that bad feeling again. It’s going to get bad again and no one is here to stop it this time. He’s too tired but he can’t get enough sleep. He keeps trying to breathe but it gets caught in his throat every time.
“Fuck,” He whispers, trying to keep it down. He might be having a heart attack, it surely seems like he is. He wants the dull pain back. It was so much easier to deal with then. He can’t deal with this sharp sting. He’d rather rot than be stabbed.
He didn’t bring his phone in here. No matter how much he wants to call Regulus he can’t, even if he let himself to. He can’t go passed Sirius, he’d surely wake him and everything would be hell. So he slips back to the floor instead. Pulling at the necklace he wears around his neck. James got them matching ones ages ago now and he refuses to take it off, even when he sleeps. Regulus says he’s going to suffocate himself one of these days, and James has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t tell him that’s how he wants to go anyway. He feels it dig into his skin and he focuses on that pain instead. It’s dull, hardly even there but it’s enough. He feels the cold metal in his palm, and traces the indentation with the pad of his thumb. He still can’t breathe. He pulls his head down to his knees. He can’t do this, not here not now.
He’s had a lot of panic attacks in the past but he’s always had someone around. Whether it be his mum or Regulus. Remus too on some occasions but that’s very rare. Sirius has been there for some of them but James always rushes off when he feels it coming. He’d rather spend it alone. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Sirius. He loves Sirius, and he’d trust him to put a gun against his head and not pull the trigger, but he can’t show him this. Especially not now, not in the state he’s in. James has worked so hard to keep himself together all these years. Put himself in a little box that he couldn’t escape from. Sometimes it gets lonely in the box but it’s better than being out and letting everyone see inside.
Regulus sits in with him sometimes, holding his hand and telling him it’ll be okay. James took a long time to stop feeling guilty about that, he still does sometimes. Regulus has had a way tougher time than he has. In the grand scheme of things, nothing is wrong with James, he doesn’t deserve to be treated so kindly because he works himself up into a panic sometimes. It’s his own fault. He’s the one bringing it on. Regulus tells him if he’s doing it alone he’s not faking it, but he can’t really believe him. Sirius is right outside the door, and even if he wasn’t Regulus is one phone call away. He’ll come home and see James lying here, or if it gets any worse he won’t see him at all. That’s not being alone. James will never be alone. That feeling is always there slamming against the back of his head screaming at him that he’ll never be enough for anyone, and if he so much as breaks down in front of the wrong person they’ll leave and take everyone with them.
So it’s fine. It has to be fine so it will be fine he just needs to learn to breathe again. He puts his head between his legs, shutting his eyes so tightly he swears when he opens them he’ll see nothing at all and he waits. He waits until the dull pain comes back. He wants to rot. It’ll be better if he does. He waits for a heart attack too. He’ll take either one just not this, he can’t deal with this pain anymore. He thought the sweater would be enough but maybe nothing ever will be. He’ll be stuck like this forever.
He just needs to make it through tonight.
He needs to be there for Sirius in the morning. He’ll get himself up the floor as soon as his hands feel like his own again. He’ll turn the lights off to get away from the mirror, anything. When Remus comes back from wherever he is he’ll know Sirius was safe with James. He’ll know he did a good job. He just needs to make it through tonight.
It takes a long time to get up from the floor.
Even long after the pain has passed he stays down there, waiting for something else to attack him. He has more tasks now. He has to get up and get into bed. It sounds simple when he says it like that, but it’s too big. He can’t do it. So he stays. Sitting on the floor contemplating just lying down here and passing out instead. He knows he can’t though so he doesn’t. He just sits here and waits. He’s always waiting.
He doesn’t bother putting his glasses on and his head is tipped down so he can’t look in the mirror. He dries his tears the best he can but he has no idea how he looks otherwise. He hopes he doesn’t look too much like hell. Not that Sirius is awake. He won’t see him until morning and when they do wake up James can just blame it on him not getting much sleep the night before. It’ll be fine if he makes it to the bed.
When he gets up he accidentally catches another glimpse at the person in the mirror. He stares at them and they stare back.
He opens the door with his eyes closed.