Chapter 3
It’s his stomach that wakes him up. Of course it is. Sirius knew this would happen but in the moment he wasn’t able to think this far ahead. Any time that he has a bad day with food he can’t sleep. It’s awful and makes him feel even worse. But he can’t do anything about it. Now he’s just stuck here with a stomach that is trying to eat itself from the inside out because Sirius can’t take care of himself. And he just has to deal with the consequences.
He can’t fix it right now. Food won’t sit right when he’s like this and okay maybe the thought of trying to eat anything after yesterday (or is it still today?) scares him. He was so adamant about it not being a bad day but he should just call it what it is.
Calling James proved that much. The one person who should have never seen him like that and now he can’t take it back. Doesn’t mean Sirius won’t try, but that door is open and oh he would do anything to close it again. Slam it shut and lock it so tight that James could never see in again. What kind of friend does that make Sirius? A good one, right? He is keeping his best friend from bad things just like he should.
If Sirius could just get his fucking stomach pain to subside he could go back to sleep. Keep from waking James up. Except when he feels the bed next to him, he’s not there. And he’s alone again. Which… That’s fine. Better probably. He could just peel himself up from the bed and dull the pain. It would be easy. Fighting one battle with another isn’t the best solution but he can deal with that pain to help ignore his stomach. If he’s already slipping what’s the harm in it? Just as long as James really isn’t here. He already saw too much of what Sirius tries so hard to not bother him with, this would push everything over the edge.
Just as he is about to get up and slip into the bathroom, the door opens. It’s pitch black but he can make out the shape of James slowly making his way to the bed. Sirius squeezes his eyes shut and pretends he never woke up at all. He can’t handle a conversation now. His chance to do anything is shattered, probably for the better. Instead he just rubs at the dull aching on his thigh and tries to forget about it. When Remus comes back it will be better if there is nothing to show how things went tonight and Sirius really doesn’t have the energy to hide it. It’s not even that he wants to cause himself more pain, it would just get rid of the other pain. This would be in his control.
James settles into the bed next to him, clearly trying to be quiet and careful to not wake him. It’s too late for that, but Sirius has no intention of letting him know that. The two of them have spent many nights together over the years. So much so that they know how the other sounds when they are asleep. Hopefully if James notices anything different now he just attributes it to the rest of the night and doesn’t check on him again. He just needs to make it through the night.
Something feels off though as he tries to drift back off. The normally soothing sound of James’ breathing isn’t there. It’s something much more ragged and… it’s not right. He should turn over and do something or at least check on him. If he needs Sirius, he should be there for him. Part of him wonders if he could be the reason for this. If his cry for help and revealing bad parts of himself to James hurt him. Sirius knows that if that’s the case he shouldn’t try to help, not when he’s like this. Not when he’s fighting too many battles of his own and barely keeping it together. But if it’s his fault then he should at the very least tell him he can go home to his own bed. That he doesn’t need to stay here and take care of him if he doesn’t want to.
Fuck. That wouldn’t work. He’s stuck here. And he’s a burden to his friend and can’t do anything to help him. He can’t do anything right and he’s seconds away from losing it. James’ presence is keeping him from doing anything but that doesn’t stop the thoughts in his brain. Not any that are telling him how badly he fucked up today or how the only way he can think to deal with it is to do something even worse. He’s starting to not even feel real, this isn’t what life is supposed to feel like. Remus isn’t here to remind him that it’s okay to feel lost. He just wants to draw a little blood to know that he actually exists. That he isn’t making this all up.
It would be easier if he could breathe. If he could steady himself enough to calm down. But his body picks up on the shaky breaths coming from James and syncs to those so that neither of them are relaxed. He wants to find a way to help them both. Or help James so that he can at least fix the mess he made. The bed dips a bit more as James shifts to fully lay down and it gives Sirius the idea to pretend to move around in his sleep. He can easily roll over and latch onto James. If they sleep in the same bed, cuddling has never been off limits and they both enjoy the warmth of the other’s body.
Making sure his eyes are still squeezed shut, he slowly and as naturally as possible rolls. First, readjusting his body weight and then half facing him and then fully throwing an arm over his hip. It appears to work and not alert James that he is awake because he simply pulls Sirius in closer. James wraps an arm around him and lets him snuggle up as close as he pleases. His breathing is still uneven but at least something is holding him together. At least this time he didn’t have to beg for comfort, he could just pretend he’s asleep and then it’s there.
It helps for a minute. The pang in his stomach and chest and the dull ache of his old scars don’t fully go away but he’s being held. The broken pieces of him aren’t going to fall apart right now and that’s all he can be grateful for. It’s enough. It’s the best he is going to get right now. In his arms he feels a little more real. At least enough to push the unwanted thoughts to the back of his mind. He can face those once James goes home.
Above his head there’s a sniffle. Not like when you have a cold, but after you’ve been crying. He wants to look up and see what lies across James’ face but it scares him a little. Did he make him cry? Did he cause this? Fuck. That’s- that’s not going to bode well for him once he’s left alone tomorrow. This isn’t what he meant to have happen, he just needed help. Sirius still needs help, not that James didn’t try. He just doesn’t know what he needs and that’s the hard part.
When what seems like crying doesn’t stop, he has to say something. It would eat him alive if he didn’t. “James?”
“Shh, go back to sleep. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” James runs a shaky hand over his hair.
“Okay,” Sirius nods and clamps his eyes shut.
He doesn’t want to see anything anymore. This can be something to deal with in the morning. If at all. But if James has been crying, he has to do something about that. It’s his best friend that he pulled into the darkness of his life, so it’s up to him to help him out in return. He just needs to get to sleep first.
The night passes by at an alarmingly slow pace. Sirius can’t drift back off and so he’s left with nothing good. As much as being held by James helps, or at least should help, he’s still not okay. Everything gets worse at night especially as night turns into early morning. He wants to claw his stomach out so he never has to deal with it again. He doesn’t need it. At some point a headache also set in. Completing the trio of aches; stomach, chest, and head. Those all, he just has to wait out. Maybe in the morning they will be gone. Once the sun is up and there is no darkness to hide within.
It’s all still here now though and that’s not good. His hand itches to grab a blade and get control of the pain. If he knows what caused the pain, if he is the one who caused the pain, it’s better. That he can deal with. Even if he knows why everything else hurts, there is nothing he can actually do about it. This though, he could handle and control and fix.
But there’s James. James, James, James.
It seems that he drifted off at some point, but he keeps hold of Sirius. It should be comforting, it was comforting. Now it only seems to suffocate him. When did that change? How can he get it to change back? He doesn’t want to no longer be soothed by his presence but there isn’t much to do about that now. His wall came down, even if not fully, and it’s not going to be easy to rebuild it. If he even can. With that wall came comfort that could only be provided without knowing the context of anything going on in his head.
The rest of the night and through the early morning Sirius lays there thinking. It is good that James is here next to him but it also doesn’t help. Though it does stop him from doing anything, which other people would classify as helping. But it leaves him in the same state he was in before falling asleep and unable to dull any of the pain he feels or kill the thoughts swirling around in his brain.
He knows that he was the one to call him but he was the only option. It sounds awful and the fact that he is thinking it makes him feel even worse. But James can’t help with any of this. James doesn’t know how to help with any of this. The two people who could aren’t here and Sirius really doesn’t want them to know about any of this. So there was no good option and there still isn’t one for where to go from here.
Morning comes in the form of bright rays of sun shining through the spaces between the curtains and the wall. They remained closed, though he would have liked to see the stars through the sleepless night. Even with them shut the sun still manages to peek through. It’s still likely hours before James will even begin to stir so it seems he’s stuck here. James’ grip on Sirius is even stronger than Remus’. It seems he’s trying to hold him in place like if he left he would never come back. Little does he know that Sirius is worried about the opposite. That if he left, James would never come to him again.
When James does begin to finally move, it’s well into the morning. He seems to have gotten at least six or so hours of sleep from when he came to join Sirius in bed. To not draw attention to the fact that he has been awake for all of the hours that James slept, he shuts his eyes and slowly pretends to wake up.
“Morning,” James groggily says.
At this he looks up at him and has to fight to keep his face from contorting. “Morning. Sleep okay?”
He doesn’t exactly look like James right now. Sure, it could be because he doesn’t have his glasses on. But it’s more than that. He barely opened his eyes yet, but they are red and puffy and it’s honestly a bit unsettling to see. Sirius can’t recall any time he has ever seen his friend’s eyes look like this. He just doesn’t cry, and definitely not enough to wake up showing signs of it. His instinct is to ignore it, James would say if something was really wrong, wouldn’t he? Unless it’s Sirius’ fault. Then he wouldn’t.
“Yeah, you? Feeling any better?”
That’s honestly the last thing he wants to talk about. It’s bad enough that James had to drag him off the bathroom floor and into bed after what happened, he simply can’t talk about it. So he’s fine and that’s what he will tell him. And if he says it, maybe he can convince himself of it too.
“I feel good. Must have just eaten something bad last night. You know I hate being sick.” The lies come easier when there is some truth to them.
What he doesn’t say is any of the details. Why he called James. Why he was a wreck. He hopes he doesn’t have to. Well, even if James presses, he’s not going to tell him. If things go how he hopes, he isn’t even going to tell Remus about how bad it was. No one has to know. Except the problem is when he looks up at James again, he can tell he doesn’t believe him. It’s like he’s waiting for the truth to come spilling out.
“If you say so.” James rolls out of bed and goes into the bathroom to get his glasses.
“Are you alright?” He diverts the attention away from himself, still wondering why it seems like he has been crying.
He comes out of the bathroom, looking more alive and his glasses seem to hide rather than magnify the puffiness that Sirius knows is there. “I’m good. Just glad you’re feeling better.”
As James exits the bedroom, Sirius gets up because he knows he can’t just rot in bed all day. Not with James around. So he hauls himself out of the bed and first into the bathroom. Without meeting his own eyes in the mirror, he brushes his teeth. He didn’t last night and he can still feel the awful tastes lingering in his mouth and throat. The person in the mirror is not him and he doesn’t want to see him. Even the quick glances are too much, so he hurries through his morning routine. If he can at least try to feel like a person, maybe today will be better.
As he rubs the moisturizer into his skin and leaves the bathroom, he has to mentally prepare. Not to see and talk to James, but to deal with the mess he knows he left behind. That’s the worst part of when he has nights like last night. It’s always out of the blue and he can’t control everything in the moment. Usually Remus is around to help and it makes the next morning easier.
When he reaches the living room, he finds James on the couch scrolling on his phone. Hesitantly he peers into the kitchen, only to find that it is spotless. At some point James must have cleaned it. He doesn’t know how he knew or thought to do that or even why he would. But he’s grateful for it. If he is going to make an attempt at eating and getting back on track today he needs the kitchen to look okay. And it does, it’s a room he can enter without needing to claw his insides out. At least that’s sorted out.
“Thanks for cleaning, sorry it was a mess.” Sirius finds himself saying.
“‘Course. Just wanted to help you out. Are you hungry? I can make us something to eat.”
Deep breaths, he reminds himself. In and out.
“I’m not really hungry right now, maybe later. But help yourself to anything we have.”
Everything feels a bit weird. Like they are walking on eggshells around each other. Which is Sirius’ fault, he knows this. If he hadn’t broken down and called him last night, they would both be fine. He just feels exposed and like James is watching every move he makes. Waiting for him to break again, waiting for him to expose his own cracks. Except he’s not going to do that. It would only make things worse.
He seems to take that answer well enough. Ironically that makes him feel just as uneasy as if he pressed for him to eat. Does he know that he can’t get himself to eat anything? Did Sirius let the reason for his breakdown slip? Or does he just not care?
The rest of the morning they do a dance. Not quite sitting with the other, not quite avoiding. Not quite talking, but it’s not quiet either. It’s a bit infuriating. Sirius doesn’t want him to leave, he knows that it would be worse if he was alone right now. But this isn’t great either. He hates himself for thinking that. This is his best friend, he shouldn’t have a problem with sitting in silence with him or talking to him about himself.
He doesn’t want it to be like this. It’s never been this awkward for the two of them to spend time together. But he doesn’t have the energy to do anything about it. So they just pretend like the other isn’t there while also looking in their direction every few seconds. It makes his skin crawl. Sirius can tell that James is watching him, but he doesn’t do anything else. Then again, neither does he. Is this how it’s always going to be now?
James makes himself something to eat, not asking him if he wants anything this time. Thankfully. He doesn’t want to have to say no again because he shouldn’t be slipping. If he had asked, Sirius would have said yes. Maybe it would have ended awfully or maybe it would have been fine, but he doesn’t really want to find out.
The problem comes when James comes back to the couch with a plate of food in one hand and a few bars in the other.
“I wasn’t sure which were yours or which you liked best, but I grabbed a few.” He passes them to him.
It takes everything he has to not break down. Maybe that’s dramatic. It isn’t the sight of the bars that is the problem. And it is barely even the fact that James brought them to him because he knows that something is up with food for him. It’s that he will need to eat one and it seems he will be doing that while James watches. That’s the issue. He can’t do that. Because if he finds he is still slipping then he won’t be able to hide it and then that will be it.
“Er- Thanks.” He takes them and sets them down without opening any of them.
The air around them is awkward as James eats. He doesn’t watch him but he’s the only thing moving in the room so his eyes defy him and sneak glances. James stays quiet while he slowly eats. The topic of the bars does not come up again, and he’s grateful. At least he isn’t being forced to try to eat one right now. Though he knows he should. A part of him just wants to wait until he’s alone again to try, that way no one, especially not James, sees the aftermath.
While he doesn’t outright say anything, as he gets up to put his plate back in the kitchen, James looks between Sirius and the bars sitting next to him. It’s all unsaid, but he knows. Okay so he should try to eat. He knows this, that was never a question. The best he can do is try while James is in the kitchen rather than staring right at him. Hesitantly he peels the wrapper of one open and stares at it. If he looks too long the pieces within it will start to look wrong and he won’t be able to take a bite. So he just gets it over with.
It could be worse. One bite is fine. He has to chew it more than he usually would just to try to make sure it can go down his throat without feeling like it’s getting stuck. After he swallows though, he’s not sure he can stomach anymore. Before he has the chance to overthink it, he gets up and finds a glass of water and downs the entire thing. This will push everything out of his mouth. The taste of the bar isn’t bad but he doesn’t want it lingering. Before returning back to James’ watchful eye, he wraps the rest of the bar up and tucks it behind some other things in the cabinet, knowing he won’t be eating any more of it right now.
When he returns, James is looking off to one side with a foreign look on his face. He can’t place it. It almost seems like he’s not really here right now. Like he’s off in some other world. As he gets closer, James blinks a few times as if trying to come back to the present. There is a glossiness to his brown eyes that feels wrong, though it makes them stand out more than usual.
“James?” He softly calls out.
“Mm?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I’m sorry for last night, he wants to add. But that would defeat the purpose of turning the attention away from himself.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
And that’s where they leave that. Sirius doesn’t want to push. Though he isn’t sure if it’s out of fear of the truth or fear that he will then need to talk about himself too. There isn’t even much of a reason to assume anything is wrong with James. Except for the fact that he was crying for a bit too long last night and now this weird distantness. It feels weirdly familiar. This is how Sirius has been sometimes, especially after a bad day, is that what this is? Is James having a bad day? But why won’t he talk to him about him, he’s his best friend…
He can answer that question for himself. Just take him for example.
The weird thing is that James doesn’t ask about him. He waits for it, for just a minute before giving up. It seems he is just going to move past it. Which, granted, is what Sirius wants, but does he not even care? It makes his chest go tight to think about. Another weight piling on him and he can’t find an escape. Even when exactly what he wants to happen, like not talking about last night, happens, he can’t win.
He doesn’t bring it up again. If James doesn’t trust him to admit that he was crying, then fine. He can get past that, he has to. Last night happened and soon today will pass, and then they can forget it ever happened at all. They can pretend it didn’t and pretend they’re both fine. Maybe he’ll even start to believe it one day.
Time just seems to pass around them. He doesn’t have the energy to keep up a conversation, and James doesn’t try either. But the hours pass faster than expected. Usually doing nothing makes everything slow. Not today, which works out for both of them. He doesn’t even mind the silence. Okay maybe that is a lie and maybe he would prefer to have music playing so he could at least try to drown out his thoughts, but it’s not as bad as it would be if he were alone. At least with James here he has to keep it together.
The silence is broken, almost, by the vibration of a phone on the couch between them. It’s closer to James, so it must be his. He picks it up, looks at the called ID and then sighs. He looks like he is trying to pull himself together, despite insisting he was fine. A flash of panic, no not panic more like uncertainty or hesitation, crosses his eyes. He gets up from the couch and looks around, deciding where he should go to take the call. Because he clearly isn’t going to pick it up in front of Sirius.
Distantly, before he’s fully out of the room he can hear the start of the call. “Hi Reg.” A pause. “Yeah ‘m okay.”
Liar.
Then he’s out of earshot. And now Sirius is alone. Well technically. Momentarily. Not for long enough to do anything or for anything to go drastically wrong, but he’s alone. The smart thing to do would be to take this time to call and check in with Remus. He just doesn’t know what to say. If things aren’t better with his mum, Sirius doesn’t want to be the reason he leaves sooner than planned. But he knows he needs him too. There’s no right answer.
He doesn’t have to choose though, his phone rings as if on cue. “Hi sweetheart.”
“Hi,” Sirius centers himself as best he can. “Is Hope any better?”
“Almost, yeah. She’ll be alright, just needs to rest. I’m gonna stay another day or so just to keep an eye on her, but Ma will be just fine. I miss you.” He sounds tired.
“I miss you too.” He should say something or ask for help, he knows he should.
“How are you?”
The question always holds a lot of weight. Given everything. It’s not one that Sirius can get away with answering by saying he’s fine. Any time he’s tried it, it’s failed. So he has found other ways he can answer it without reason for concern, especially if he doesn’t want Remus to worry. Like now when he is home taking care of his mum. That’s more important than fussing over him, when he’s perfectly capable of handling it himself.
He decides to go for a half truth. “I’m okay. Haven’t really had an appetite since last night, but nothing bad.”
“Try to have something, yeah? Doesn’t have to be a lot, but you know you’ll feel worse later if you don’t try.”
Sometimes he wishes Remus would stop being right. Obviously eating something is better than nothing and his stomach is already hurting from not having anything. So yeah, he should try but it’s not that simple. And James is here which complicates things. It would all be so much easier if no one knew anything about him and he could just pretend like it was all okay. Trying to fake it when people know the truth is the hard part. Doesn’t mean he is going to stop doing that, it’s still better than being known and seen.
“I will. Promise.” He says it as convincingly as he can, even he almost believes it.
“If you want to get something now I can stay on the phone with you for a bit.” He offers.
Thinking up a way to answer, he digs his nails into the palm of his hand. “No, it’s alright. Go spend time with Hope. I’ll talk to you later. I love you.”
“Let me know how you’re feeling later, okay love? I love you.”
He lets the call end. Not hanging up, but not saying anything either. After a few seconds of dead noise, Remus clicks the call off. There was nothing else to say, at least not in terms of things that he was willing to talk about. It’s all fine, really it is. He’s going to be fine and Remus will get back here in a day or two and make sure he’s okay. All he needs to do is last until then.
His phone slips out of his hand and onto the couch. It’s quiet. Almost too quiet. But he can hear the muffled sounds of James on the phone with Regulus coming from the other room. Even if he concentrates as hard as he can, he can’t make out anything that is being said. He just- he hopes that James isn’t saying anything about last night to Regulus. His brother finding out about this is the last thing he needs.
As protective and loving and caring as Remus is when it comes to him, Regulus is right up there too. The worst part is that his brother has seen him at his worst. Nope, he doesn’t want to think about that today. It’s too much right now. Whenever he thinks about those times, it almost makes everything else spiral. He never realizes how easy it is to slide back until it’s happening. But he just needs James to not mention whatever he saw last night. Even if he doesn’t know what happened, Regulus would just from context.
And he’s fine. So there would be no reason for him to worry, but he would if James says something. Which would then lead Regulus to blow it all out of proportion and no one needs that. That in itself would make things worse. He really would slip, he thinks.
But it’s probably not even anything to worry about. They are having a different conversation. If he had said something, Regulus would already be on his way over or calling him or asking for the phone to be passed to him. So it’s fine.
This all leads back to him being alone, in the room at least, where it is too fucking quiet and his thoughts are too loud. Too messy. He can’t sort through them without finding something he doesn’t like, so he just leaves them. It makes his head fill up until it’s pounding and a headache starts to creep in. His own phone is still in reach, so he grabs it and flips through until he finds a playlist with music that will help to tune everything else out. Songs he knows. But nothing too sad that would make James ask questions when he returns. Hopefully he won’t mind the music playing.
He doesn’t. James’ phone call wasn’t much longer and he came back seeming exactly the same as before. Quiet, and a little bit off from the James he knows. But there isn’t much he can do about that, he already insisted he is fine and that there is nothing to talk about and Sirius doesn’t have the energy to push.
So now the morning bleeds into the afternoon, but instead of silence, Sirius’ playlist carries on in the background. In all the years of their friendship, he can’t remember a time when they spent this long together without really saying anything. It’s eerie and he decidedly hates it. He just- he simply doesn’t have the energy to carry a conversation right now. Even if he tried to, he wouldn’t laugh like he usually does and everything would just seem even weirder than it already does.
Eventually the aches come back. He can feel that his stomach is screaming for help and he knows he should do something about it. His chest is tight just thinking about it, and thinking about everything else. If he could just get his brain to turn off, it would be okay. Then he wouldn’t notice how his body is betraying him, or he’s betraying his body. Whatever it is. There isn’t anything else for him to focus on right now and that’s the problem. He’s forced to confront these things, but at the same time he refuses to.
By the time either of them says something again, it’s the middle of the afternoon. “Are you alright?”
It catches him completely off guard. Why is he asking now when they’ve been sitting like this for hours? He starts to wonder if he started doing something mindlessly or made a face or somehow gave away his thoughts. But he knows he didn’t. He never does, and he wouldn’t show it in front of James. He’s always careful.
“Yeah, I’m alright.” He answers as plainly as he can.
“It’s okay if you aren’t. Just let me know if I can do anything, yeah?”
He’s not stupid. Okay? He knows it’s fine if he isn’t, but it doesn’t feel like that. He needs to be okay so he just is. Until he isn’t, but that’s not an issue right now. Except it is because James brought it up again and now he has to deal with it. He just- he doesn’t know a good way to deal with it. At least not on his own and he really does not want to ask for help. That would mean admitting to not being okay. So he’s right back there. Being definitely not okay, but not doing anything about it.
“I know. I am okay though, don’t worry.”
“If you say so.” He quietly responds before allowing the silence to return.
This time the silence is worse. Even through the music his brain won’t turn off and the aching in his chest and stomach and head won’t fucking go away. It’s all getting worse and he needs to do something to stop it. But again, he can’t. Not with James right here, not when he could see. No, no, no. Absolutely not.
It’s just the way that James doesn’t sound like himself and he doesn’t sound like he believes Sirius. It’s too much. He needs it to all just fucking stop. He wishes he never called him in the first place. He could have, should have, picked himself up off the bathroom floor last night on his own and dealt with it. As hard as that would have been, at least he would have been able to carry on. There wouldn’t be this weird air between them and he wouldn’t have upset James and they would both be fine.
What he needs right now is a moment alone. He knows that Remus would tell him it’s a bad idea to be alone when he’s like this but does he care? Not right now. It’ll be a decision he hates himself for another time but right now it will make him feel better. Not fully, never fully. But momentarily, and that’s all he can ask for right now. A moment of relief. Even just a second would be enough. That would be enough for him to feel more in control.
Maybe he should think things through first, but that is asking a lot of him right now. So he just gets up off the couch and grabs his phone and wanders to the bedroom. James looks up, he thinks, but doesn’t follow. Which is good, great even. He’ll get enough time alone to help himself feel even a smidge better and then go back to him and carry on whatever game of pretending they seem to be doing. He knows that James is off, and James knows that Sirius has been off. Neither are being open about it and it’s making everything incredibly hard. But it’s just how things are. He hopes it is not how things always will be now, but he has no idea what is going to happen from here.
In his room it takes a minute to remember where he last left the bag. He puts it somewhere different every time and it’s been a few weeks, over a month he thinks. At least it hasn’t been much longer than that, it makes him feel less bad. But what else can he do right now? He needs something. Something that he can do, something that he can control. After checking his bedside table, the back of his side of the closet, and under the back corner of the bed, he remembers it’s on the bookshelf. Hidden behind a few books that haven’t been and likely won’t be moved for a while.
With it in his hand, he heads to the bathroom. His hand just touches the handle to pull the door shut behind him when James calls out. He scrambles to keep the bag out of view, even if it’s innocuous enough on its own.
“What are you doing?”
… Fuck.
“Oh er- I was just going to take a shower. Did you want to use the bathroom before?”
Mentally he tries to get James to back off. Just leave him be right now, he can’t do this.
“I’m alright. Ca- can you keep the door open?”
No, he wants to say. Not right now, he needs to be alone. He needs to shut himself in the bathroom just for a few minutes until he can handle existing again. Just a short time and then the ache will be dull. That’s all he needs. A few minutes away to just fucking handle this and then he will be fine.
But there isn’t a way for him to say that. James already seems to be suspicious of him and he can’t. He shouldn’t have any idea what Sirius is thinking right now or what he was going to do. James doesn’t say that he knows, but the look on his face says enough. Even just the fact that he wants to stop him from being alone tells him that he’s worried about something.
And now this becomes yet another thing he has to try harder to hide. Another thing that James was never supposed to even sort of know about. It’s a good thing that he is good at pretending and hiding. It might just take more energy now than before, but he can make it work. Anything to keep all of this from spiraling more and James seeing how bad things can really get.
“Oh, yeah okay. Sure.” He has to stop from saying anything else or asking why.
He knows why, but part of him wants to hear the reason from James. To know how he came to that conclusion when he has been so fucking careful to keep all of this hidden. But maybe it’s obvious, maybe last night was enough to show him the bad parts and now that one piece was pulled back, everything is just on display. All of him hopes that is not the case, but he can’t do anything about it right now. Another thing out of his control and he so fucking desperately wants to get control back.
As James seems to walk into the bedroom to be closer to the bathroom, he quickly stashes the bag in the cabinet. Hidden enough that it can’t be seen and if for some reason James went looking, he wouldn’t notice it. But not too hidden that he’d forget about it and not move it before Remus comes back. It’s out of view by the time he sees James out of the corner of his eye again.
Quickly he gets undressed and hops in the shower. Mostly just wanting to get it over with since it won’t be the alone time he was hoping for. He lets the almost boiling water fall down over him and it only stings slightly. So he turns it up until it burns and then even more until the tap won’t go any hotter. It’s the best he can do right now to feel any sort of relief. The room doesn’t steam up like it usually would with the door open.
The water drips down his face and soaks his hair and his skin. He just lets it. His eyes shut and everything is dark. The water continues to burn and he lets the sound of it fill his head. It’s not exactly what he needs but it’s the best he can do right now. Maybe it will help to pass the time even just a little bit.
He wants his brain to shut off, but it won’t. Focusing on the burning water helps but he can’t stop thinking. James knows something is wrong now, he definitely does and he hates it. He was never supposed to know any of this and now he needs to figure out a way to keep going. A way to keep him from knowing more or from worrying that he’s hiding anything.
Behind his eyes an image flashes of James crying. The sound of his heavy breathing and sniffling pounds in his brain. And just like that he remembers last night and how he did that to James. It’s his fault, he made things worse for both of them. If he wasn’t so fucking useless he could have handled himself last night and not brought him into any of this. He could have kept things as they were, as they should be. But he can’t even do that right.
When the water stops burning he knows he should get out. It doesn’t really drop in temperature, but it isn’t doing him any good. He’s probably already been in here longer than he should be, long enough that James may have something to say about it. If he stayed any longer he would have to explain why and he doesn’t want to do that. So he just shuts the water off and reaches out to grab a towel. He wraps himself in it and takes a deep breath before stepping out. Knowing that he has to go back and face his best friend again. At least he didn’t cry, there’s no evidence of what’s going on in his brain. So there’s that.
He gets dressed quickly in comfortable clothes and finds James back on the couch. It’s hard to go back to sitting how they were before because whatever silence they were able to withstand before isn’t working now. He thinks it is because he got up to shower, or whatever his original intentions were. In reality he could have survived sitting here even longer and maybe he should have. Then James wouldn’t have been suspicious of him getting up and they would… He stops the thoughts there.
It’s not just right now. Things have been off since James came over and he knows that. He was lying to himself to think that anything has been even remotely okay. It’s been way too many hours since he has properly eaten anything, but nothing is going to work right now so he’s stuck.
The worst part is that he’s also stuck with his thoughts. None of them are things that he can say to James. Not the fact that he hates himself, in general but even more so for calling him. Not the fact that he knows he is slipping and whatever confidence he had earlier that he could stop it is gone. Not the fact that he knows he hurt James with all of this and that he isn’t enough to make it better. Not even the fact that he is trying so fucking hard and failing at everything.
It’s… well it’s fine when he sits back down across from James. As fine as it can be and he’s trying his best to keep it together. Nothing is brought up and that makes it easier. One part of his brain is nagging him to find out why specifically James asked him to keep the door open, but he doesn’t truly want to have the conversation. So he lets the silence continue.
He has to keep from scratching at his arm or his thigh but he doesn’t have anything to occupy his hands. And his thoughts are all over the place. It’s really fucking hard. But eventually James gets up to use the bathroom, so he has another minute to himself. As soon as he is out of view, Sirius anxiously itches at his arm. Somehow it gets his mind to quiet slightly. Enough that he can breathe, and that’s all that matters.
James didn’t say anything when he got up and he hadn’t been looking at him, but he doesn’t see a problem with that. Right? That’s fine. It’s not weird. Until it has been nearly ten minutes and he still hasn’t come back yet. He didn’t even feel the time pass that much, except it had. Sirius just wasn’t paying attention. Normally he would be glad for the time to pass quicker and quicker, but something feels off about this.
His first thought is one he doesn’t like. His first thought is that he didn’t hide that stupid bag well enough and James went snooping and found it. And now he’s hiding in the bathroom trying to figure out what to say to him, or he’s calling Remus or, hopefully not, Regulus. There’s a lot he could be doing if he found that. And well, he doesn’t like any of the options. He thought that it was hidden enough that it’s out of sight, but maybe it’s not. Or maybe James has some sneaking suspicion, which doesn’t make him feel at all better, and he has been looking for anything he may have hidden in there. That would make sense as to why he wanted the door to stay open while he showered.
If any of that is the case, he doesn’t want to talk about it. That’s out of the question. So he stays put for now. Mostly just contemplating how to shove his best friend out of the flat when he eventually comes back to talk. There isn’t an easy way but he needs to think of something because that is a conversation he is not going to budge on having.
More time goes by and James doesn’t return. If he listens closely, he can’t even hear anything from the bathroom so he clearly isn’t on the phone. He could just wait it out and see what happens when James inevitably comes back. That would be the easiest thing to do, except he feels far too out of control to do that. After a few more minutes, he can’t take the waiting anymore.
“James?” He calls out as he walks toward the bathroom door which is firmly shut. “Are you alright?”
Of course there is no response to that. Which wouldn’t be concerning, except for everything else that has happened in the last day.
He jiggles the door handle, not really caring if he’s about to walk in on James using the bathroom. Mostly because he doesn’t think that’s what is happening behind the door. It doesn’t budge at all. Though from the other side he thinks he can hear a gasp and then nothing. Like James is holding his breath to not give away anything.
“Jamie, come on. Open the door.” He tries again. “Please,” he adds much quieter.
When he doesn’t get an answer this time, he slides down to sit against the door. In his mind, James is sitting with his back to the door too. Perfectly lining up with him. He’s not entirely sure that is the case but he will believe it over the thought that he’s doing anything else on the other side.
All he can do now is try to keep himself from spiraling. From thinking the worst. It will be fine, it has to be. What doesn’t help is that he can now hear what sounds like crying and ragged breathing and just nothing that sounds like James is okay. He’s never seen him like this, so he can’t be too sure. But it sounds like he might be having a panic attack. It’s how Sirius gets when those happen, but he doesn’t lock himself in the bathroom. Though that is because Remus stops him and wants to help him through it.
If James would just open the door, he thinks he could help him. At least he would try to. As much as he is fucking seconds away from losing it, he could handle James. He never gets like this, so it probably isn’t even that bad. It would be manageable. As long as he stops thinking about last night or the ache he still feels or how he has no fucking control over any of this.
This is when his own panic starts to set in. He’s not in a good enough space to help James right now. That fact alone kills him. This is his best friend, he should be more than capable of making sure he is okay and helping him through whatever this is. Except he can’t because he isn’t enough and James won’t even respond to him. How is he meant to help?
He tries again though, hoping that this time is different. “C-can you open the door? Please James, I ju-just want to help.” If only his voice weren’t so shaky, maybe then James would believe that he could help. “We can just sit here, that’s okay. Just, please let me know you’re here.”
No answer, again. There isn’t anything he can do. A bit frustratedly, mostly anxiously, he shakes his hand, hitting it against his thigh. It doesn't actually do anything to help but he tricks himself into thinking he feels even a tiny bit better. He doesn’t, but at least his hand isn’t trembling when he pulls out his phone.
As much as he thought that he could handle whatever is happening right now, he knew that this would be a possibility. He hates it, because he is James’ best friend and he should be able to support him. To be there for him whenever he needs, and even when he doesn’t. He is just always there. Except that isn’t always enough, proven by tonight. He is used to not being enough, it’s a common theme in his life. Until tonight he hadn’t felt that when it came to James, but all things eventually turn out this way.
He types in his brother’s name and a quick text, thankfully void of any spelling errors. can you call me? It wouldn’t be good to make it seem too urgent, that would only worry him. And he doesn’t want it to seem like it was him that needed help. Well, it is but it also isn’t. If he doesn’t answer in a few minutes, he’ll just call him. He hates it so much that he knows Regulus will be able to help James right now. Especially when he can’t. He is supposed to be the one who knows James best, the one who is supposed to be here for him. But instead that falls to Regulus. Just further proving that Sirius isn’t enough, and him calling for help is the nail in that coffin.
The phone rings after only a few minutes, and as he picks it up he moves to the other side of the room. “Reg?”
“Hi, are you alright?” He instinctively asks, and it makes Sirius flinch.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Lie. “This isn’t about me. I just- okay, James locked himself in the bathroom and hasn’t said anything in too long. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”
“He’s there? He didn’t say he was going over to see you. Right, did something happen? Hold on.” The line is quiet for a second. “Is the door locked?”
“Yeah. He won’t answer when I say anything. I wouldn’t call you if I didn’t…” He hates the next few words. “If I didn’t need you to help.”
It’s not even for himself but he hates that he needs Regulus to help. He’s done his best to keep him from needing to. Though he’s been there for the worst of it, Sirius just doesn’t want to see him continue to struggle. The past is just that, the past, and he can’t change that. But he can control the present and he can make sure that his little brother doesn’t still see him the way he did when he was seventeen and at his worst. But with this? There isn’t much else he can do.
“I can be there in a few hours. I’m away with Pandora, but I’ll get on the next train back. Okay?” Regulus says hurriedly.
He nods as if it can be heard through the phone, but it seems to be understood.
“Just stay there, yeah? Be there even if he isn’t saying anything.”
“Yeah, I will. I’ll er- see you soon.”
“Do you want to stay on the phone? Are you okay, can you-”
He doesn’t want him to ask if he can handle it. “It’s okay.”
“If you’re sure. Okay, I’m on my way. And Sirius? I love you.” Regulus says and the call comes to an end.
Hearing his brother say that makes his chest hurt. It should be in a good way. Knowing that Regulus loves him and cares about him. That is good. But his chest is tight and he doesn’t feel like he can breathe too well. It just makes him think about the past and that is never a good thing.
He goes back to sitting against the bathroom door and he can hear the sound of James breathing. It’s very unsteady, but at least he’s breathing. At this point he has stopped trying to not think about the worst case scenario. The call with Regulus and his urgency to come didn’t exactly instill much faith in him. But maybe that means that this wasn’t his fault, so there’s that.
The hours tick by even slower now. But at least there is an end in sight. Soon Regulus will be here and he can help figure out where to go and what to do. Someone with a clearer head needs to make those decisions, because Sirius sure as fuck can’t. Their breathing syncs through the door and that should comfort him. But his chest is tight and he knows he isn’t breathing how a normal person should, so it is definitely not comforting.
The active panicking starts to dissipate around two hours after the call. The problem with that is that his mind has settled back to thinking, and his body just continues to ache. He tries to not spiral, he tries to keep it together, he tries to ignore the other issues. But he can’t. It’s all just too much.
Around the three hour mark, it’s now definitely night time and the sun has gone down. From where he sits, he can’t see the sky too well through the window, but it looks to be a starless night. That doesn’t make him feel any better.
He goes to swipe a stray hair out of his face, not that he has any reason to see but still. Instead his fingers come back wet with a few tears. He hadn’t realized he started to cry, or when he did. But here he is, still unable to do anything. Every so often he says something to James. It doesn't matter what he says, he never gets a response. That’s all he can do though it seems, so he keeps doing it. Maybe it helps.
Sometime between hour four and five, the front door swings open. He wipes at his eyes frantically to get rid of any evidence that he cried at all. Regulus rushes into the room and has a worried look in his eyes. He gets up to move out of the way and to hide any signs that would be obvious on his face of how he is doing.
“Hi, thank you for calling me.” Regulus says while passing him to get to the door. “James? Baby?”
He doesn’t fully listen to their conversation, or one sided conversation. Staying there and talking to James was the only thing keeping him at all centered and out of his own head. Now he’s stuck there with no distractions. It’s private anyway. Whatever he needs to do or say to help James with whatever is happening is clearly not for Sirius to know. Otherwise he would have been enough to do this himself.
After some coaxing, the lock on the bathroom door clicks and Regulus pushes it open. He drops down to the ground and reaches out to pull James close to him. From his spot on the floor across the room, it seems like he is okay. Physically at least. It’s hard to tell if his face is wet with tears, but he doesn’t have his glasses on. The lights aren’t fully on, only the dimmer ones. James just seems to be looking past Regulus rather than at him as he speaks softly.
Together they stand up from the floor and Regulus starts to bring them through the flat. When he passes Sirius, he gives a second look. As if wondering if he can leave without feeling guilty. Having to choose between helping James or Sirius, though it’s clear who needs him more right now. He just nods him along, Regulus shouldn’t worry about him.
“I’m going to take him home. Thank you for calling and for being here when I wasn’t. Are you going to be alright?” Regulus asks by the front door.
“Mhm. Let me know how he is, yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ve got him now, it’s okay. You don’t l- Just text me if you need anything. Please.”
He promises to, knowing that he won’t. If James isn’t doing well he should be the priority. It doesn’t matter how he is, he can handle himself anyway. He knows that he probably isn’t instilling any confidence in his brother, but he can’t fix that now. Whatever state he looks to be in is out of his control As is everything about the past two days. He keeps telling Regulus that they can go, it seems like it will be better if they do. Then Sirius can get a moment alone too.
Once they leave, it’s too quiet. His brain brings back everything he had pushed away. Top of the list is the fact that he hasn’t eaten and his stomach feels like it is starting to eat itself. Trying to eat something now seems like a bad idea. No one would be here to help if things went bad and he’s pretty sure things would be bad. So he just has to deal with the way he wants to claw at his stomach and can’t dull that pain. His chest is still tight and he can’t fix that either. Plus he is still thinking about James and that makes his chest hurt even more.
Hesitantly he goes into the bathroom and scans the floor. Nothing is sitting out, which makes him feel the smallest bit better. James is fine and he didn’t do anything while he was in here. Sirius opens the cabinet and finds the bag exactly where he left it. His hands shake as he reaches for it and he just accepts that. There is nothing he can do to stop that.
There are tears slipping down his cheeks, not many but enough that he notices it. He’s not even sure what he is crying over, but he just wants it to stop. If he can’t fix any of this he wants to be numb. He wants to get control of himself. He would usually shut the door, but no one is here and no one is coming so really it doesn’t matter. He just wants it all gone.
The shakiness in his hand doesn’t go away as he unzips the bag and digs around delicately. He ends up just dumping everything out, he can deal with that later. He pushes everything else aside and grabs the blade. He grips it tight and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, hoping that this will get everything to go away. He brings it to his skin and presses.
The blood pools and then drips down, down, down. Everything is numb for a second, and then he feels it all again.
At least he knows this pain. It welcomes him like an old friend.
At least he can control this.