it'll all work out

At some point he stops feeling it. That’s probably when he should put the blade down and stop. It’s not doing anything now. It’s not fixing anything and it’s not helping him. But he doesn’t. He keeps going, cut after cut, just trying to feel something again.

There’s blood on the floor and smeared on his hands and leg. When he looks down, it’s hard to even see the cuts at first. In front of him is the mess he made and he can’t look away but he hates seeing it. He did this. He is to blame for all of this. Even thinking that, he doesn’t feel anything. Nothing feels real, he isn’t quite sure he exists. That should make him happy, that’s all he wants right now. To not exist. Except it only makes him want to press the blade into his skin again to prove that he does exist. Because he’s supposed to exist.

His grip on the blade slips, his fingers are slick with blood. It falls from his hand and he doesn’t bother picking it up. At least this gets him to stop. He won’t hurt himself anymore, but he’s still left to deal with the wretched state he and the bathroom are in. 

The thing is he knows that he has to deal with this now. While he doesn’t feel anything. If he leaves it for tomorrow it will make everything worse. It might be today actually, it feels like a lot of time has probably passed since he came in here. He can just try to get himself on auto pilot to clean this up. It would be best to clean his hands and then his leg and deal with the floor after. 

The water that flows from the tap is luke warm but he can’t tell if he’s even really feeling it. The handle is turned more towards hot. Sirius doesn’t think about it again, it doesn’t even matter. He already knew that he stopped feeling, he shouldn’t be surprised by this. The water rinses most of the blood down the drain. With a little soap it’s all gone and luckily doesn’t leave any tint in the bowl of the sink. 

It would be easier to hop in the shower to rinse his leg, less of a mess too. More energy but he can do it. He has to do this so that he can get clean and cover up tonight. Hide the evidence of this. It can’t seem like anything happened when Remus comes back. If he can keep this entire night a secret he will. The first thing that makes him feel even a twinge of anything, is the thought of Remus seeing him like this. It makes his chest go tight and there’s a weird sense of relief at knowing he can still feel. 

He already showered earlier, that feels like so long ago. But that means he doesn’t need to really shower, just a quick rinse. Then he can use the antiseptic and bandage his leg. It’s a routine that he knows too well, but it doesn’t take much energy now. He leans into the shower and turns it on, the stream of water falling down. The temperature doesn’t matter to him now. He just wants to wash the blood down the drain. 

It should sting when the pressured water hits the cuts. Logically it should. He doesn’t feel a thing. Even still, he moves so the stream hits his hips and trickles down to his thigh. It will be better in the end for healing. The water drips down his leg and it is tainted red. Not a soft pretty red, a deep dark red. Nothing about this is soft or pretty, so it only makes sense. His vision goes unfocused as he stares at the water. It needs to run clear before he turns the water off. Slowly it gets lighter and lighter. But it’s still red. He almost thinks that it is always going to be red. Even if the cuts heal, he will always be tainted. 

But eventually it does stop. It doesn’t look like there was ever blood on him. If you don’t look at the cuts that is. They cross over old scars and go between them and his eyes get fixed on them. He should just look away but he can’t. Without looking up he turns the water off and stands there expecting to get cold. But also to just let the water drip off. That way even if there is still blood he won’t have to get it on any of their towels. 

That way he might still be able to keep this from Remus. 

Once he’s mostly dry he steps out of the shower and grabs for the bag. He keeps bandages of all different sizes in there, along with antiseptic and gauze and the blades. Quickly he rinses the one blade off again just in case and then buries it in the bottom of the bag so he can stop looking at it. 

The rest of this is easy. He knows how to clean and bandage, he doesn’t have to think about it. This time though, the antiseptic doesn’t sting. He still can’t feel anything. Though that’s not important now. He’ll deal with that tomorrow, or another time, right now he just needs to fix the mess he created. Without the sting he’s used to it is harder to tell when he’s cleaned enough. 

He looks down and sees that there isn’t blood trying to seep out anymore, so that’s probably enough. In the morning he will need to change the bandage and clean it again, but that’s fine. He can do that. With the bandages he covers all that he can. Careful to not put the sticky part directly on any of the cuts. It’s not enough just like that, it won’t heal right like this. So he pulls out a longer wrap and ties that fully around his leg. It’ll have to do. 

At least now when he looks down he can’t see what he did. No one can. 

It’s probably close to morning now and he knows he should get to bed. It would be nice to be asleep. He won’t have to think if he’s asleep. Sleeping is the break from life that he constantly craves. It’s never long enough and when he wakes up life is still there waiting for him, but it’s the best he can get. He’ll take a break over nothing. Though right now he would love to be lulled to sleep in Remus’ arms. Not that he deserves that or wants Remus to see him like this, but it would still be nice. 

Before leaving the bathroom he packs up the bag and grabs it. He needs to put it in a new spot. Honestly he isn’t even sure if Remus has noticed it or has even ever seen the bag, but just in case, he has to keep it hidden. Next to the bed he bends down to the floor and decides that under the bed will be good. He sits down and reaches as far under the bed as he can and nestles the bag behind a box that hasn’t moved in months and decides this is good enough. 

He can go to bed now. He should go to bed now. But he can’t get up from the floor. That would take too much energy. Energy that he doesn’t have. So he’ll just lay here. It’s not the most comfortable spot on the floor. There are bits of floor around the flat that he loves to sit at, especially if he has a blanket or a pillow. This isn’t that. This is where he gets stuck. All he wants is to shut his eyes and sleep but that isn’t happening. 

Sirius resigns to laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling. There isn’t anything for him to look at so his eyes unfocus. They won’t close to let him drift off. He just has to lay here until he can move. That could be minutes from now or hours, there is really no telling how long it will be. At least he isn’t feeling anything. He’s completely numb.

Numb is good, he thinks. But he knows that being numb is a bad sign. He doesn’t mind it though. It’s easier than feeling. So he lets himself be numb. There’s no one here to stop him, there’s no one here to make him feel. He can stop caring what happens to him when he’s numb. He won’t feel it anyway. 

Everything starts to be fuzzy. It’s like his body is static. Instead of drifting off to sleep he’s stuck like this. He doesn’t bother to try to move at all. Not even just to wiggle his fingers and know that he’s still here. He just lets the static feeling envelop him and spread from his body to his head. The problem is, it doesn’t turn his brain off. If the rest of him is static, why can’t his thoughts turn to static too? 

In trying to avoid thinking, he starts to feel his own heartbeat. Well at least there’s that. Even if he doesn’t want to, he knows he exists. He knows he is alive because that is what having a heartbeat means. It’s slow and heavy. Too heavy. It doesn’t pound, it just pulses. Next he starts to feel himself blink. Most of the time you don’t think about blinking, the same way you don’t think about breathing. But once you think about it, you’re hyper aware of it. Sirius starts to manually blink. It keeps his eyes unfocused when his eyes open again. 

After all of that, thoughts still manage to creep into his head and make themselves known. They’re mostly all about the same thing. James. How he couldn’t help his own best friend. He couldn’t be there for him. James didn’t want his help. He had to call his brother to help. He couldn’t do anything. James doesn’t trust him. He wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. It echoes in his mind.

It’s not a new thought. He’s known this. He hasn’t been enough before and he’s certainly not enough now. It just had never been as obvious to him as it was tonight. Even if it’s always been true, no matter the reason, this was the first time it was obvious that he isn’t enough for James. He always said that Sirius was enough, or maybe he just had never said he wasn’t. Not saying it didn’t mean the opposite was true. He knows that well enough by now. 

He just- he wanted to be enough for James. As soon as James seemed like he need someone, he wanted to be the one there for him. He tried. And failed. He simply wasn’t enough and if he can’t be enough for his best friend, what can he do? But Regulus is enough. Regulus swooped in and helped James right away. Regulus is enough, he’s always enough. Sirius just wants to be enough for once. 

And now he can’t even manage to pull out his phone and check in on James. That would be the decent thing to do. Someone who was enough, someone James could trust would text or call to make sure he is okay. But that’s not him. He’s not enough. His phone is somewhere far from him, so he couldn’t even do it now if he wanted to. By morning his phone will probably be dead and that will at least be an excuse for why he doesn’t reach out. 

Eventually he either stops thinking or falls asleep. It could be either honestly. The next thing he knows his eyes are open again and there is light coming from the windows. He never got up from the floor and if he could feel anything then his back would probably hurt quite a bit. But he’s still numb. So at least there is that. 

  He should get up now. If he remembers right, he is supposed to go into work today. It would probably be good to call out and not go, but that would require an excuse that he’s willing to tell people and making a call. So he’ll suck it up and go do what he’s supposed to. He can pull it together enough for that, he can make it work. In the end it will help him to show Remus that he is okay and has been okay.

It’s a lot of effort to get up. More so since he slept on the ground and needs to physically push himself up, rather than rolling out of the bed. He can’t do it too quick or it’ll rush to his head and he his vision will go blurry. Deep breath and then he can. Just one deep breath and that will be enough. In and out. Okay, he can do this. 

Slowly he gets himself onto his knees, hand resting on the bed for extra support. There are a few black spots already in his vision, but he can’t do anything about that. Once he is up and standing it will be easier. He brings one foot to stand against the ground, and then pushes off of the bed to get the other one under him. Quickly he shuts his eyes trying to block out the dizziness that he can already feel. 

It would be really great if he could stop being reminded of all of the current issues piling up. He knows that he is dizzy because he doesn’t have any food in his system. And maybe the bleeding might have a role in that. But still. He wants to just carry on as is. He doesn’t have the energy to fix everything so he should just keep going. That’s the only way that makes sense to him. It’s the only thing that he can do when he’s on his own. 

He finally makes it up and can stand without keeping his eyes shut or leaning on something else for support. The first thing he does is look for the clock to see what time it is. He has about two hours before he needs to head into the coffee shop, which is just enough time for him to try to pull himself together. When he’s there he has to do his best to mask everything going on in his life. He can do that. He’s really good at faking it. 

Next he grabs his phone and plugs it in. As expected it takes a few minutes before it has enough power to turn on. If Remus wouldn’t be likely to call soon, he would leave it dead. Everyone would be better off not having to deal with him and no one else would call him anyway. Today might be different though, today he might have texts or calls from Regulus. 

Except he doesn’t. Not even one letting him know that James is okay. That’s what he is most worried about. Despite his brother being able to tell that something was wrong with him, he didn’t check in on him either. Maybe he was just busy with James, that would make sense. But Sirius doesn’t blame him. He doesn’t need to check in, he doesn’t need to care. Sirius isn’t enough for anyone, especially not James or Regulus, so it’s really okay. 

He leaves his phone to charge and goes to do the next thing he knows he needs to. It’s not as hard as eating, which he’s very purposefully putting off. He just needs to clean his leg again and make sure it’s covered and everything before going to work. Cuts should have time to breathe, that’s how they heal, but he can’t deal with that right now. Later he can worry about doing everything else, right now he just needs to keep it hidden so he can leave the flat. 

The wrap lasted fine overnight, but the bandages under it need to be changed. So he uncovers all of it and just stops and stares. His eyes trace each new cut over and over again. Even with them he doesn’t feel like he truly exists. They look real, but he doesn’t feel real. What more can he do to fix that? 

He doesn’t feel real even when he’s bleeding. If that doesn’t work then what will? 

His fingers itch to poke and prod at his skin, knowing that it should hurt if he does. Even more so he wants to grab the blade again just to see if he can feel again yet. It would probably not even work, but what if it did? His feet turn out of the bathroom and towards the bed. He knows where his body is taking him and he doesn’t have the ability to stop it. He’ll have to get down on the floor and it will be hard to get back up, he does it anyway. 

Just as he reaches under the bed his phone rings. Instead of the bag and the blade under the bed, he reaches for the phone on top of it. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi love. Doing okay? You have work today right?” Remus responds. 

“In a bit.” He pauses briefly. “How’s Hope?” 

“Even better than yesterday. Since you’re working today I’m going to stay here for now and come back probably tomorrow. Is that alright with you?”

Remus is giving him an out. He probably doesn’t know that he needs one, doesn’t know that he needs him. But he’s still giving the option. Sirius has just never been good about asking for help. Or admitting when he can’t do something on his own. He just so badly wants to be okay, he won’t let anyone see or believe any different. 

Except for when he can’t control it. When he gets so bad that the only option is to ask for help before things get even worst. So he doesn’t ask Remus to come back sooner. 

“That sounds good. Give Hope my love.” 

“Make sure you eat something before work. Even just a little.” 

“Okay.” He can’t say much else to that. 

He can’t promise that he will. The thought of trying to eat unsettles his stomach even more right now. He just wants that feeling go away, without having to eat anything. It probably won’t and he’s going to be stuck with it for a while, but he’s used to it at this point. It’s awful, but in a weird way it’s comforting. It’s always going to be there, it won’t leave him. 

“I love you.” He adds in the brief silence that had fallen between them. 

“I love you sweetheart. I’ll call you after your shift. Text me if you need anything.” 

The phone gently hits the bed and he can go back to not talking. It’s hard to talk right now and soon he won’t get a choice. At work he has to talk whether he wants to or not. He’ll limit it as much as he can but it won’t be comfortable for him either way. Having to force interactions with customers is a lot if he’s having a bad day. But he’ll do it and he’ll be fine. Practice for when he needs to show Remus that he is okay. 

The need to go back to grabbing the bag and the blade from under the bed is mostly gone. Enough that he won’t do it. This would be easier if Remus were actually here, but talking to him and hearing his voice was enough for right now. A distraction for a few minutes. It was almost a reset for his mind. 

His thoughts are still messy but the bad ones aren’t as present. He just has to make it through work. He’s gone to work in much worse states than this and made it through. That should mean he can do this today. It can’t be that hard. Sometimes work can even snap him out of this. Force him to be fine and keep going. That’s what he needs it to do today. 

He gets himself back to the bathroom to finish re-bandaging his leg. Hiding it away and hoping that it will look better when he next sees it. Knowing that it won’t, knowing that Remus will end up seeing what he’s done. But he can’t do anything about that. It kills him knowing that no matter how hard he tries he won’t be able to fix it. He won’t be able to fix himself. Yet he still ends up here trying to do something to make himself better to make himself feel real, to just make himself feel. 

Being numb shouldn’t be this tiring, yet for some reason it is. 

If he could feel, Sirius knows he wouldn’t feel good. But a part of him still wants it. He wants it because he knows he should. Now, like this, he can’t see a way of ever feeling better. Not just because he is numb, but because he doesn’t know what good feels like. Not really. It’s hard to tell if he’s ever actually felt good. This isn’t normal, this isn’t what life is supposed to be. So why is this what his is like? 

Slowly he pulls himself together for work. Doing what he has to. Putting on a simple outfit and shoving his apron and keys into a tote to bring with him. It takes him most of the time he has before he needs to leave to do all of that. He knows it would take most people ten minutes, he hates himself for how long it takes him. When it’s time to leave he slips his shoes on and then sees his phone still sitting where he left it on the bed. 

He almost wants to leave it. No one will be calling or texting anyway. But what if they do? What if someone actually does need him for once? That thought is enough to throw it in his bag before leaving the flat. It may hurt later when he sees no notifications, but he can deal with that then. He thinks about texting Regulus to check in on James, but he doesn’t have the energy. If his brother wanted to update him, he would. If James wanted him to know anything, he would tell him. But neither of them do. 

The second he steps out of his flat his chest hurts. He knows today is going to be long and hard, but it’s what he has to do. If he lets his chest hurting stop him from doing anything, he would never leave home, he would probably never get up off of the floor. It’s better if he just pushes through it and deal with the consequences of doing that later. 

He slips his headphones on and turns the music loud enough to drown out the people around him. It’s only a short walk to the cafe from the flat, but he doesn’t want to deal with anyone. Luckily he doesn’t have to and he barely even pays attention to the walk, having done it so many times before. About a block away from the shop he pauses. There’s about five minutes before he needs to be there and he is going to take every second of that.

Mostly he needs to figure out how to breath first. He stands off to the side in an alley and closes his eyes for a minute. Taking a deep breath in and holding it until he can’t anymore. People always say that breathing and meditating is good for you, but he’s never quite figured out how. When he tries to breath, he can feel it too much in his chest and it gets tight, or he can only breathe too fast in a panic. There isn’t quite an in between that he has found. And meditating is out of the question, if he thinks then he overthinks. So right now he just tries to make it as quiet in his head as he can. All he needs to do is make it through work. He just needs to be okay enough to get through the shift.

He checks his phone and there’s about a minute, maybe two if he pushes it, before he needs to start working. The last block to the shop he tries to tell himself he’s fine, that this will be fine. In retaliation his chest goes tighter and tighter, laughing at him for being so foolish. Before he walks in the door he stops once more. This time it’s to morph his face into something palatable, something that won’t cause any concern with his coworkers. 

The last thing he does before he starts work he knows he shouldn’t be doing. He turns his phone off. He did bring it just in case someone needed him, but he knows that no one does. It defeats the purpose of bringing it, but it feels good to turn it off. He won’t be able to quickly check in in between every single thing as easily like he normally would. 

But it’s fine because no one needs him. Maybe if James really cared or trusted him, maybe if he had bothered to check in on him today. Maybe if, maybe if, maybe if, maybe if, maybe if-

No one needs him. That’s it. 

“Hey Sirius! Have a good few days off? Any preference on what you want to do today?” His manager asks. 

“Yeah, alright. I’d prefer bar.” Sirius just barely gets through the words, each one scratching at his throat, not wanting to come out. 

She happily lets him do that, going to the register herself. At least this way he can get away with not talking for the most part. Less words than if he were taking orders and ringing the customers out. He can get into auto pilot with making drinks if he needs to. After dropping his bag in the back he returns with his apron on sees two drinks waiting to be made. He just gets to work and does his best to not think about anything else. 

Part of him feels bad that he isn’t talking. His manager is really sweet and on good days he loves working with her, especially when they get to talking or gossiping. But on bad days he can barely handle the short conversations they need to have. He really would like to be able to talk, he wants to, he just can’t right now. It’s a miracle that he’s able to work as well as he is right now that it’s not worth pushing himself to talk. 

The customers aren’t bad today like they tend to be. All Sirius really needs to do is make the drinks, and make them well, and call out each one. Aside from that he can avoid any other conversation. She doesn’t push him to do any more. He hopes she can’t tell that he isn’t fine, but there is nothing he can really do about it even if she can. No one has complained about their drinks, which means he is doing well enough and he is going to take what he can get right now. 

When it’s about halfway through his shift, she lets him go on his ten. Normally he would scroll on his phone or text Remus or James or even sometimes bother his brother. But he doesn’t even grab his phone today. He simply removes his apron and walks out the door to get some air without saying anything to his manager. She doesn’t mind, she knows he will come back when his break is over. 

It’s warm out, but not suffocating. He can’t breathe any better out here than inside, but a change is welcome. He wanders down the street and regrets not bringing his headphones to listen to music. That would have required turning on his phone and he didn’t want to do that, so he just has to endure hearing all of the sounds around him. It’s a lot and fills his head with noise but at least he can’t really think. 

He thinks it’s been almost ten minutes by the time he circles back so he heads back into the cafe. There is a long line of people, either waiting to order or waiting for their drinks to be ready. This typically happens when one of them goes on break so he isn’t surprised. He heads back behind the counter and helps catch up with orders and pretty soon the line goes down. 

It’s easier than he thought it would be to focus on work instead of anything else. He’s been doing good and there is only an hour and a half until he can go home. The cafe almost empties at one point and he lets out a breath. It doesn’t relieve the pain he feels in his chest, but it helps a little. His manager goes on her break while no one is in the shop which he’s grateful for. He sits on a spare stool they have by the door to the back room and lets his head lean back and hit the wall. 

When the door chimes his heart rate spikes and doesn’t settle. First it’s just one customer that walks in and then a second and a third. Panic fills him knowing that he has to take their orders. They’re all staring at him and he wants it to stop. He doesn’t want them to see him. What do they see when they look? He swallows everything and every thought he’s having and goes up to the register. 

“What can I get you?” The words just fall out and he’s thankful he has been doing this long enough to not have to think. 

“A large latte, and a muffin.” The man says, so he types it in and goes to prepare the order. 

As he’s doing that, more customers come in. Too many. More than he can handle on his own, but he has to. He goes between the register and the bar as the espresso is coming out of the machine to take the next order. It’s fine for the first three customers. He manages to speak to all of them and get them their drinks. 

As he’s talking to the fifth, they seem to have an attitude. He’s trying to finish the fourth person’s drink while also typing in the fifth’s order and getting them to pay, but something isn’t working. Either their card is declining or just not working with the machine. They are doing their best to communicate that to him, but he is also trying to make drinks and he just can’t. 

He stumbles through the few words he can get out of his mouth and the customer doesn’t seem happy. Sirius braces his hands on the counter to try and center himself enough to get through this. His chest aches and he can almost feel a dull throb from his leg. It’s more than he’s really felt since last night and it’s almost welcome. Except not now. Not when he needs to be doing his job. 

It’s just not enough. He can’t make the customer happy and they start to raise their voice at him and it’s too much. It’s not the best thing to do but he can’t do anything else. He pushes through the door to the back room and it hits into him as he passes through. His manager sees him and he thinks she says something to him, but his ears started to ring and he doesn’t hear it. Sirius braces his hands on his knees and he can tell his breathing is uneven. She goes out to the front to deal with what he couldn’t. 

The dull ache in his leg is now more intense and he feels something again. It’s not anything good, but he can feel. He realizes that the door hit where he has the bandages, but he can’t check if they need to be changed here. It will just have to wait either way. Sirius slides to sit on the ground until he can calm down. 

He wasn’t okay enough to come to work. He knew that, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to prove that he was. That he could be fine. But he isn’t enough. he couldn’t handle his manager going on a fucking ten minute break, it’s pitiful. He can’t even function normally an he can’t do a simple job. He can’t be left alone ever. There just isn’t anything he can do right. 

He’s not enough. He can’t do anything right. He is useless. He’s not enough. He can’t do anything right. He is useless. He’s not enough. He can’t do anything right. He is useless. He’s not enough. He can’t do anything right. He is useless. He’s not enough. He can’t do anything right. He is useless. He’s not enough. He can’t do anything right. He is useless.

“Sirius!” She breaks through his thoughts. 

He looks up and her face says it all honestly. She’s definitely concerned by the mess that is sitting in front of her. The thing is, he can’t do anything about it. This is just how he is and how he will always be. There aren’t tears in his eyes but they sting. He hates being seen like this, he isn’t supposed to get like this away from home. There just isn’t anything he can do at this point. 

“Can I do anything? Call anyone?” 

Slowly he shakes his head. He knows that if he called someone they would try to help, but it wouldn’t work. He’s beyond help. Plus Remus is still in Wales and Regulus is with James. It’s fine, he can handle himself. He just has to get up and get through this. If he stands up and pretends that this didn’t happen maybe he can just go back to work and finish his shift. 

He doesn’t say anything, he can’t get any words out. He pushes himself off of the ground. Mostly because he doesn’t want to continue to be seen like this. It’s already too much for him to handle. The sooner it can be over the better. He’ll just deal with all of this later, he only has an hour until he can go home. 

His hand brushes against his thigh as he walks through the back room and it almost looks like- oh. Fuck. He can’t- He can’t keep working now. There’s slight traces of blood seeping through the bandage and his pants. The door must have irritated it enough that he started bleeding again. And he didn’t fully wrap it like he should have. Maybe that is why he started to feel it more when he sat down. Right now bleeding seems to be enough for him to feel. That has to be something, right? 

He needs to tell his manager that he has to leave. But he needs a reason that he’s willing to say. He can’t, he won’t, go up to her and show her the blood on his hands and then have to explain where it’s coming from. He doesn’t think that he could go up and say that he needs to leave either. Is her seeing him on the ground enough? It has to be. 

As he wipes his hand on his shirt, to be dealt with later, he grabs his bag and starts walking out the door. He’s pretty sure she calls after him. At the door he pauses and turns back to look at her behind the counter. She doesn’t stop him, and he gives her an apologetic look, or as much of one as he can muster. Then he leaves. He puts his headphones back on but nothing plays through them. He doesn’t want to turn his phone on, not now. Getting home is the priority, everything else can wait. 

The headphones block out enough of the noise that Sirius can get himself home. It’s not totally quiet that he has to confront all of his thoughts but it’s quiet enough that other people aren’t affecting him. It’s not a long walk, he can manage. Now is not the best time for him to feel again. Everything is now feeling like a dull throb. Pulsing. He knows that which each step he’s irritating the cuts even more and he regrets coming to work. It would have been better to just not show up. 

He gets through the door of the flat and goes straight to the bathroom. After work he doesn’t quiet have the energy to do all that he needs to. He does the best that he can and swaps for new bandages but he doesn’t have a clean wrap. Later or tomorrow, before Remus gets home he’ll figure it out. At least he has time there. 

Somehow he is able to zone out. For how long, he isn’t quite sure. But he knows that it’s long enough for everything to go numb again. He didn’t drift off to sleep, but everything sort of subsided around him. Fading away into the background. Even his thoughts seemed to leave him be for that time. It might be night already, which means he can push himself off the ground when he has the energy and go straight to bed. Not that he always needs it to be night to sleep, but at least this way he will be on a somewhat normal schedule when Remus gets back. 

He just needs to get up. That’s the hard part. 

If the bathroom floor were more comfortable he would just sleep here. It would be easier than getting up. The lights were never turned on, so really he could just stay here. He isn’t going to, he knows that he shouldn’t. He knows that it will be better for him later on if he moves to his bed and sleeps there. Sirius doesn’t quite have the best track record for doing things that are good for him, or things that will benefit him in the long run, but that’s because he doesn’t always think he’ll make it through to see the long term future. 

Somehow he always does make it through, but not because of anything he does. Life just keeps going and moving around him. It takes him with it and he just keeps living. He thinks it would be easier for him and everyone else if life left him behind. Everyone could keep moving and living and he would just stay here. No one would miss him or need him. Even those closest to him would get used to him not being around and they would be okay too. 

“Sirius?” He hears just as he’s about to get up. 

Remus. If he could he would jump up and make sure he seems perfectly fine. He can’t though. It fucking kills him. He should be fine. This whole time he was making sure he would be okay when Remus got back to avoid this. It was all for nothing. He can’t hide all this from him. 

The sound of footsteps gets closer and closer. Almost so fast that he might be running. He probably is. Their flat isn’t that big it will only be another few seconds before he rushes in. Sirius looks at himself slumped on the ground, luckily there isn’t a mirror to show him how bad he really looks, but he can tell enough. He didn’t pull clothes back on to cover the bandage. Oh he really wishes he did. 

“Sirius… Oh sweetheart.” Remus hovers in the doorway for a second.

He doesn’t look up. He doesn’t want to see whatever his face is doing. The mess he made of himself is surely causing a reaction, not one he wants to face. Sirius looks straight ahead, not meeting Remus’ eyes even when he drops down to the ground next to him. 

Just like he’s done before, Remus reaches out and envelops him in a hug. He doesn’t say anything about the sight before him, but he’s thinking about it. He has to be. As he holds him all Sirius feels is guilt. It’s not even a real feeling, he can barely even feel the arms around him. He’s still numb to everything and he hates that that includes Remus right now. 

The guilt might as well take over his entire body. He did this, he is the cause. And he’s left himself here for Remus to deal with. He didn’t sign up for this yet he for some reason continues to stay and deal with it. Sirius knows it’s a bother, he knows that he should try harder so that no one feels like they have to handle him. It just doesn’t work like that. 

It would be easier if he wasn’t here. He doesn’t feel real anyway, but he’s still here. People still rely on him. They shouldn’t. Everything would be better without him. It wouldn’t take much to push him to that point, he’s been there before. It’s familiar to him and it would probably welcome him with open arms. 

“Let’s get up. I think the bed would be more comfortable. Maybe some pajamas too?” His voice is soft and gentle. 

He wants to talk but it’s too much for him right now. Instead he just follows as Remus’ hands guide him up from the ground. He feels weightless but his feet still drag along the ground. Each step feels less and less real but it’s not long before they are at the edge of the bed. Vaguely he remembers sitting here earlier on the phone with him, when he said he would be coming back tomorrow. Unless he zoned out for an entire day, he’s early. 

He was meant to have more time to pull himself together and prepare. 

Remus leaves him for a second or just takes a hand off him. It feels different to not be attached now. In however long it’s been since he got home, Sirius got used to being held. It’s only thirty seconds before he comes back. Now with comfortable pants and the biggest jumper they own. He helps slip them on Sirius and it should feel nice. He knows he loves this jumper. But he doesn’t feel anything. At least when he looks down he doesn’t have to see the damage. 

The bed dips next to him under Remus’ weight. He adjusts them to both be laying back against the pillows. Sirius doesn’t have to ask him to keep holding him, he just does. Which is good because he couldn’t bring himself to ask for more. Not when he’s already doing so much more than he needs to, more than he’s worth. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this comfort. He won’t stop it though, he may never get anymore if he does. And laying here with his head on Remus’ chest and body curled in on him is too nice to lose. 

One arm is wrapped around him and that hand is playing with his hair. It soothes him as much as anything can right now. He keeps on staring, everything a bit blurry and out of focus, but not enough for his liking. Sometimes when he’s like this he wishes he had bad eye sight and could just take glasses off and stop having to see. That would be nice because if he can’t see, then everything around him stops mattering. 

Faintly he can hear the tapping of Remus’ thumb on his phone screen. He wants to know what he’s doing but he doesn’t turn to look. It’s none of his business anyway. He tries to tune it out or let it lull him to sleep. It might be late or it might have just gotten dark outside but sleep is calling to him. 

He does want to sleep. He just doesn’t want to wake up. 

“Try to sleep, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” 

It’s not okay. It won’t be okay. It’s never going to be okay. He shouldn’t hold him like this, like he deserves any of this love. It’s not okay. It won’t be okay. It’s never going to be okay. It’s not okay. It won’t be okay. It’s never going to be okay. It’s not okay. It won’t be okay. It’s never going to be okay. It’s not okay. It won’t be okay. It’s never going to be okay. 

The inside of his mind is racing and on the verge of panicking, he knows the signs. But his body hasn’t received the memo. His breathing is perfectly fine, same with his heart rate. It might even be lower than it should be. Remus hasn’t noticed a change either. Probably for the better, he doesn’t want to be even more of a burden. A panic attack on top of the rest of this would just be too much. He just hates that it’s not coming because he’s too numb for it. 

If he can just zone out enough maybe then the thoughts will stop. It’s too much to assume he’ll be able to fall asleep right now, but if things will just stop that would be enough. Things do eventually get quiet. Remus stops typing on his phone and there’s no noise blocking anything out. He can hear his thoughts and he would really rather not. Everything is too quiet. 

Sirius wants to ask for him to put music or something on, just until he can fall asleep. Just enough noise that his thoughts can’t break through for however long it takes to drift off. It really shouldn’t take that long once he is able to try. He’s just frozen. He can’t get his mouth to open or words to come out asking for what he needs. And it’s too much to expect Remus to just know without asking. 

Except somehow he does. And that makes his chest go tight, but he’s still too numb to feel much more than that. Not long after the typing stops, one of Sirius’ playlists starts to play. It’s soft and low but familiar. He could have any of his music turned on and it would help, but Remus picked a good one. 

He lets his eyes shut and feels his mind start to clear. Not in the way that the bad thoughts are gone, because those have a permanent home there, but it seems like they’ve gone to sleep. They let him hear the music instead of them. He can lay there and appreciate the comfort of the bed and Remus’ arms and the fingers tangling through his hair. 

For the most part he could start to drift off. He tries to let himself. The last thought that forces it’s way through before everything else shuts down is that he doesn’t deserve this. He’s being taken care of so gently, but he isn’t a gentle person. He isn’t someone who deserves this love and care. All he is is a burden. A burden on Remus especially, but also Regulus. And now James too. 

The time that he’s asleep blends with the present as his eyes are now open but he doesn’t remember waking up. Now that he’s aware of it, his body jolts. His heart starts to race but he doesn’t know why. The arms around him tighten but in a pleasant way. Telling him that he’s safe here. 

Most mornings are like this. Even good ones. He’s not sure if it’s actually morning right now, but either way. Waking up is never fun. Sirius doesn’t usually want to wake up. Nothing good comes of it. But there’s Remus. And a life that he is meant to be living. Remus is so much more than he deserves and he should be happy to wake up next to him. But there’s life and life isn’t good and he isn’t always sure that he wants to keep living it. 

He wakes up every day wishing he hadn’t and then feeling bad about that. 

Today is no different. Remus holds him tight, arms around his ribs, feet tangled at the end of the bed. Their bodies separate where they usually meet by their hips and thighs. There’s no doubt that he saw what Sirius had done, though he already knew that. There’s a dull ache that nags at him and he can’t feel it enough to know if it’s pain or just a longing. 

Eventually he wants to talk, he wants to apologize. The words get stuck in his throat and there’s nothing he can do about that. So instead he rolls over to face Remus. Except when he does, he finds he can’t look him in the eye. He can’t talk and he can’t look. There isn’t much that he can do. 

“Hi love.” Remus says anyway. “Do you need anything? Are you comfortable?” 

He shakes his head and then nods. There isn’t much more that he can do if he won’t even look up at his boyfriend. 

Before he left everything was fine. Sirius was okay. Things changed so quickly and he tried to control it, he just couldn’t. It must look pathetic to him that he can’t even go to visit his mum without having to worry about coming back to a shell of a person that can’t take care of themself. It’s not the first time this has happened and he would like to say it will be the last. It won’t be, he knows that. He’s not naive enough to think that when he comes out of this, if he comes out of this, that it won’t happen again. 

Each time he gets better its temporary. This feeling though, this is forever. Those brief moments where he can function, where food doesn’t mess with his head and his stomach and his chest, where he isn’t on the bathroom floor hurting himself, where he doesn’t feel like a burden, where he wants to wake up and live. Those are the temporary things. 

“We can lay here all day if you want, it’s afternoon now. Or if you want we can move to the couch and sit there.” When he doesn’t react to either of those, because he isn’t sure how to, Remus continues. “I can grab the computer and we can watch something in bed until you decide on something else. I’ll just have to get up for a minute, okay?” 

Sirius nods, still avoiding his eyes. He doesn’t want to see what’s behind them. If it’s pity that would make him feel awful, if it’s love that would make him feel worse. If he looked completely normal he wouldn’t know what to do, because this shouldn’t be normal. As the contact leaves him he rolls to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling. There isn’t anything to look at, it’s just white. But he stares at it until he can hear footsteps coming back and closer to the bed and then he keeps staring because looking at Remus is too much. 

The bed dips again but Remus doesn’t come all the way back to where he was before. He sits by the foot while he opens the computer and pulls up a show they have been watching as a mindless activity recently. Once he does and Sirius can hear it start to play, Remus slides back to sit upright against a pillow leaning on the headboard. 

“Want to sit with me?” He asks and helps Sirius to smooch closer. 

He doesn’t fully sit up like Remus, but he tries to. The most he is able to do is sit halfway up and lean his head against his chest. The show plays in the background and the sound lulls his eyes shut again. He’s not asleep but he’s not fully awake either. 

On a good day they would sometimes do this same thing. Except it would probably be on a rainy day and there would definitely be some kind of sweet treat involved. But today isn’t a good day. He’s not sure if it’s raining, it very well could be, but it’s still not a good day. They still lay here all the same. Remus cards his fingers through his hair and doesn’t complain for a second about any of this. He should be complaining, dealing with Sirius is a lot of work. He knows it is. He deals with himself every day and he’s tired of it. He’s been tired of it. 

He stopped wanting to deal with himself years ago.

A while later, maybe two or so hours based on how many episodes have played, Remus breaks the silence between them. “I’m getting hungry, what if we get up and have a snack?” 

Sirius knows that means he thinks he needs to eat. He really isn’t sure if he knows that he hasn’t eaten since he left or if he thinks it’s just been since yesterday. It doesn’t make much of a difference either way. The latter would probably be better, less to deal with, but it’s not as likely. He also knows that this isn’t something he can entirely get out of, not with Remus. 

He wants him to try. That’s all it ever is. If it doesn’t work, then they’ll try again later. They have done this enough times for Sirius to know the drill. He can’t avoid food forever and Remus won’t let him. As much as he hates eating with other people, especially if he’s like this, it’s different with Remus. He doesn’t have any expectations that Sirius needs to live up to, he just wants him to try. 

So he will. Trying is really fucking hard but he would rather try than be even more of a burden on or a disappointment to Remus. He is being awful right now and the best thing he can do is try to make it all easier on him, so he will try to eat. Then Remus can stop worrying about that on top of everything else. 

Remus gets up from the bed, pushing the computer to the side. He waits for Sirius to move to get up but he’s going very slow. It’s hard. He doesn’t have the energy and he doesn’t really want to get up. But he has to, so he does. Slowly. Slower than most people would and that makes him hate himself. It doesn’t even matter how fast he gets up at least he’s getting up. That’s what Remus would say. 

“Are you in the mood for anything? I was thinking about some fruit or a sandwich. Nothing big.”

He scrunches his nose and tries to hide it. Eating is what he should be doing so he’ll try. It’s just the thought of not being able to stomach anything and Remus needing to deal with that, that stops him. He sucks it up and follows him to the kitchen and sits at the table waiting. There isn’t much he can do to control how this goes as much as he wishes he could. 

Remus comes over after a few minutes with a cut up apple and a peanut butter sandwich. He puts them both down and doesn’t force him to have either, but gives him both options. Normally he would go for the peanut butter, knowing that it would fill him up more. Which means he won’t need to face eating again for longer. But the thought of the thick peanut butter coating his throat makes him freeze. The apple will be easier and crunchy foods are better. 

It takes a long time, but it’s okay. He eats each bite slowly, but not chewing the same piece for too long. Between each Sirius pauses and breathes. Remus doesn’t push for him to go faster, but he thinks he should. Taking an hour to eat one apple is absurd. This isn’t normal. He’s ashamed of it, it’s embarrassing. The thing is though, he can’t do anything about it. 

Even when he gets through eating like this, his chest still hurts by the end. It shouldn’t be like this. Maybe he should just force himself through it and go at the same speed as everyone else. Eat faster and more and then feel awful and have a chest that hurts after. If it’s the same result either way, maybe Sirius should just pretend to be fine and normal. Maybe it would be easier that way. He doesn’t have to deal with it for a bit now though. Remus knows this is a lot and he won’t push him to eat again just yet. Something is better than nothing. 

They move from the kitchen to the couch, Sirius following Remus like a shadow. He doesn’t register if he’s being asked to come along or not, but he does it anyway. It feels easier to breathe if he’s close to Remus. He sits down on the couch and is very quickly pulled to cuddle. Being held feels good, he doesn’t have to deal with the weight of himself in the world. That’s on someone else, which is nice but also makes him a burden again. Though he has always been a burden so that isn’t new. 

The rest of the night passes by like this. Remus talks and he listens. Or tries to. Not much of it makes it to his brain, but he’s awake and listening. The sound of his voice calms him as much as anything can. At some point he can’t take being touched anymore. It’s making him feel worse, reminding him that he’s being like this in front of someone, even if it is just Remus. When that happens he slides out of his arms and onto the floor. He stays there for a while. Probably hours. 

He wonders if Remus is getting tired of this. Of dealing with him, of talking to himself when Sirius can’t say anything back, of needing to hold the weight of him. He never says he is, but he probably wouldn’t anyway. Remus wouldn’t want him to feel worse about it all, but he already does. 

All he wants is for things to be easier. Sometimes they are, Sirius tries to remind himself. It’s hard to remember that when he’s like this, it doesn’t seem possible. But it is and there have been times when he isn’t like this. Even if he could just be the slightest bit better, that would be enough. Being able to talk and eat would be a start. Those are the most noticeable things that stop him from seeing anyone but Remus until it’s better.

By the time it’s completely dark outside again, they’re thinking about James. If he could get the words out of his mouth he would ask Remus to check on him, but he can’t. It wouldn’t matter anyway, James didn’t want him seeing him struggling. He’s sure that even if he asked how he was, James would lie and say he’s fine. He doesn’t trust Sirius and well, he doesn’t blame him. Sirius doesn’t even trust himself, why should anyone trust him. 

Remus helps him up from the ground unexpectedly. He might have stopped listening at one point, probably around when the thinking got worse. That’s when his chest got tighter. There are only so many things he can focus on at once when he’s like this and it seems like Remus talking fell behind everything else. Together they get up and go back to bed. He hadn’t realized an entire day went by. Time keeps going and it isn’t going to wait for him. He wishes that everyone else would go ahead with time and leave him behind. It would be better for everyone that way. 

He’s still in his pajamas from last night so he crawls right into bed after brushing his teeth. Remus comes in after him and pulls his hair back and into a braid. It’s probably knotted and ratty at this point, but he doesn’t care enough to do something about it. Unlike Remus who is the only reason he’s not still on the bathroom floor right now. 

The first time he lays down and tries to roll over and make an attempt at sleep, he winces. He rolls off of that leg and onto his back and ends up staring at the ceiling. It’s quiet. Too fucking quiet. Now that his brain is thinking again he needs something to tune it out. He just still can’t get any words to come out to ask Remus to put something on. And he doesn’t have his phone, which is for the better, but it would be nice right now. He needs at the very least music playing so he can zone out to it. 

For now he lays there and tries his best to just exist. People are able do this all the time. laying in silence. Falling asleep without extra noise. Everything that Sirius can’t do is something that everyone else does without thinking about it. Thinking, eating, breathing. Existing. It’s all just too much for him. 

If he could he would get up and find a phone or computer himself. But he’s stuck here somehow. Nothing is physically restraining him, but still he can’t move at all. He’s paralyzed here in silence and it’s torture. 

Next to him Remus seems to have drifted off. Which he’s absolutely allowed to do. If he’s tired, and he is sure to be after a day of dealing with and handling Sirius, he should be able to sleep. It’s good that he’s asleep. The sound of his breathing would typically be able to lull Sirius too, but not tonight. This also means that if he wants music, which he definitely does, he has to get up himself. 

He works up to it. First he sits up as much as he can and then swings his feet off the edge of the bed. All while trying to keep from waking Remus up because he deserves to sleep. No one needs to stay awake just for Sirius. Once he manages that, he stands up and tries to remember where is phone might be. 

His bag that he brought to work is sitting on the ground by the bathroom door and that’s the most likely place for it. As quietly and quickly as he can he makes it over there. It isn’t far but anything for him right now is a big feat. He hates that, he hates how true that is, but he can’t change it. Sirius drops to the ground to dig through and his phone is there which lets him sigh in relief. 

It, of course, isn’t fully charged, or even half charged. But that’s fine. It’s enough for him right now. He finds his headphones there as well and puts them on, not wanting to bother Remus anymore than he already has. Going back to the bed would be the comfortable and wise choice, but he can’t. So the floor it is until he has the energy. It only takes him a second to pull up the playlist he knows that he shouldn’t have with songs that he shouldn’t listen to and turn it on. 

Sirius lays down on the ground, phone held between his hands and resting on his stomach. The familiar sounds of the songs fill his ears and his mind and his chest and his entire body. This he knows, this is possibly all he knows. He might not fall asleep here, but this is better than before. At least these songs have replaced his thoughts, even if they aren’t much better. It’s not as quiet and that’s what really matters. 

Some time later his eyes open again. He’s still on the ground clutching his phone but there is no music coming through the headphones. Frantically he flips his phone over and taps at it, but it’s dead. He would need to get up and charge it to bring the music back. Getting up doesn’t feel like something he can do right now, so instead Sirius squeezes his eyes shut as tight as he can and hopes that sleep will come back. 

It doesn’t, but what does is his boyfriend rolling out of bed and standing over him. Remus bends down and carefully removes the headphones. He takes a seat and pulls his head into his lap and smooths his hands over the parts of his hair that got messy overnight. Apparently it’s morning now. 

“Have you been here all night? You should have woke me.” His voice is soft. 

He wants to talk. It might be easier now than yesterday, but he’s still not sure. Not talking feels safer. Especially with his brain acting the way it is, he doesn’t want to say any of that out loud. And there isn’t much else for him to say. Except there’s Remus who wants to hear him talk for some reason and he should try for him. 

Maybe later though. Not now. Instead he sighs and nods his head in a very small motion. Remus is content with that, or he doesn’t say anything to show he isn’t. But it’s not easy for him to have this lump of a person here that won’t so much as talk to him. He’s not being honest with how he feels, he probably is tired of Sirius and that would be entirely fair. He leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead and it almost makes him shudder. 

It’s nice, he really does like when he does that, but he doesn’t deserve it. He shouldn’t be getting any sort of affection. Not after the messes he’s created over the last few days. Himself and James. All of it is his fault and he just has to live with it. He would rather not, but he won’t do anything. That would make it all worse probably, and Remus is here. He won’t let him do anything even if in the end it would be better for everyone.

He lets Remus help him get up and off the floor. His neck is stiff as he rolls it around to try to get it to crack. That relief would feel nice after hours on the ground, but it doesn’t come. Sirius follows him out of the room like a lost puppy. Honestly it’s because he doesn’t know what else to do and being alone probably isn’t a good idea. It wouldn’t last long anyway. There isn’t a good chance he’ll be alone for a while. Unless Remus gets tired of him entirely and leaves. He’d have every right to do that.

Instead he makes room on the sofa for Sirius to curl up next to him after pouring two mugs of tea. He probably won’t drink any of it before it goes cold, but it’s there. Faintly, Remus is talking. None of the words register yet. He hasn’t pulled himself fully into reality yet. Facing it seems like too much. 

But Remus. He likes Remus. He likes the sound of his voice and the beat of his heart. First he lets his head fall against his chest and the steady beat makes him feel a little bit more real. It’s not his own heartbeat, but it’s something. Each thud echoes in his mind and it almost makes his own heart feel more there. 

If he can keep bringing himself back then maybe he can figure out a way to get back to being fine. One little thing at a time is all he needs. Next he should try to talk, but not yet. He’s not there yet, the words haven’t come. Because once he starts talking, Remus won’t let him ignore this. He will have to actually face it. And facing this mess is worse than facing the usual reality. 

At least with reality he knows what to expect. It’s the same thing over and over again. He’s not sure how to get out of that cycle or to feel like there’s a purpose, but he keeps going in it. Each day is the same and as much as he hates it, he knows he can get through it. Somehow. This though, this is more and worse. Sirius realizes now, as he always does when things get this bad, that he took for granted the normalcy. 

It was never great, but it was fine. It was manageable. He hates himself for complaining during those days because this is so much worse. He should have realized that staying in those days that are just fine, is the best he can do. There’s no telling if it will ever be better than that, it probably won’t, but at least he can function. 

“Do you want some? Or anything else?” Remus asks, holding out the mug for him. 

He takes it but doesn’t take a sip. The warmth helps. Just like feeling Remus’ heart beat and the slight movement as he swallowed his own tea and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. It all makes everything a little more real, a little more present. Sirius still hasn’t gotten there, he’s still watching this all play out. His body isn’t his. It’s numb and just waiting. For what, he’s not sure. Maybe a reset or for something to jolt him into action. A jumpstart to be needed rather than needy. 

Next to him Remus carries on talking and he tries his best to listen. “Ma is doing much better now. She misses you, we’ll have to go back together. We can put the TV on and watch something, I’m sure we have shows to catch up on. I was also thinking about getting take away for dinner later. I know it’s hours away, but if you’re in the mood for anything specific just let me know. Okay?” 

Whenever he isn’t talking, Remus carries on as if he is. He doesn’t quite supply what would be Sirius’ responses, but he knows him more than well enough to know what he would say. That makes it easier. Things don’t get too weird for them when it’s like this. In terms of their day to day at least. 

But still, he should try. Talking can’t be that hard. Right? It’s been probably a day since he has said anything. Or maybe more. He isn’t sure, time is weird right now too. For someone who doesn’t feel like they exist, time is odd. It definitely keeps moving based on everyone else around him, but he still feels stuck. He’s been stuck for a while now. 

Probably since James was still here. When he found him on the floor of the bathroom, or when Regulus showed up to help because he couldn’t, or when he ended up back on the floor, blade to skin. And that’s when it hits him. 

James. He hasn’t checked in on him. Is he okay? Even if he wouldn’t want to talk to Sirius or if Sirius isn’t good enough to trust with that, he still wants to know. Sirius cares about his best friend more than anything. He would do anything for him. Part of him wants to know if he caused things to get bad for him, but he won’t ask that. But he’ll ask something at least. He has to be able to do that. 

“Remus?” His voice is rough and barely above a whisper. 

He turns to look at him quickly, but still keeps from jostling him in his arms. “What do you need?”

“C- can you check on James?” 

“Of course. I’ll text, okay? It’s going to be okay. I’m sure he’s okay and he has Regulus.”

Right, Regulus. He knows that Remus says that to reassure him. And that’s what it should do. Right? It’s supposed to make him feel better. It doesn’t though, not really. Sirius feels… well feelings seem to only just be returning to him or have just started to be recognizable again, but he feels not great about it. His brother shouldn’t be able to help Sirius’ best friend better than him. That’s what friends are for. He’s supposed to be the one that James goes to. Isn’t he?

“Okay, yeah.” He goes quiet again, but knows he should keep trying. “TV would be good. And Hope, I miss her.” 

“Any thoughts on take away?” Remus resupplies the end of the list of things he had started to answer.

“Maybe.” He honestly isn’t sure what he would be able to eat right now. “I’ll think.” 

Once again, Remus kisses his temple in response. He’s glad that Sirius is talking again, he can tell. That means he should keep trying and keep talking when he can. Too much and he might burn out of whatever bit of energy he has right now, but enough that he doesn’t lose it completely. Just responses to Remus will be enough for now. 

The sound of the TV fills the space and it’s a welcome distraction. Even though he can’t fully focus on it, it’s better than silence. It stops his brain from going as much and as fast as it does sometimes. It only does that to fill the space and the quiet, but when something else can do that for him, it’s usually something better than the thoughts he would come up with. 

It does genuinely work for a while. They get through probably two or three episodes before he starts thinking again. He’ll have to rewatch these again another time when he feels better so he knows what’s happening, but Remus won’t mind. Or if he does, he won’t tell Sirius that he does. The entire time he’s been holding him and running his fingers through his hair just like he always does. 

Everything feels okay enough that Sirius doesn’t stop himself from letting his mind wander again. He knows better but maybe it wasn’t even in his control. It only takes a few trains of thought to land on everything he has been avoiding. How much he fucked up in calling James, how doing that made things worse for him and James too, and how he barely feels like a person right now. The list goes on and on, but those are the worst ones. 

It would be easier if he could just waste away. He’s basically already doing that. There isn’t a possibility that he will do anything else for at least a few days. Even if he tried, it wouldn’t work well enough. So he won’t try and no one will make him. Because he isn’t important enough for anyone to rely on. Sirius not doing anything really only affects Sirius, which is good because he can’t stand to let anyone down.

The problem is that Remus won’t let him entirely waste away. He won’t let Sirius get worse. Every second of the day he’s going to be right here, holding him up, being there for him, keeping him alive and as okay as he can get. And for what? Sirius can’t do anything in return, he doesn’t have the energy. He certainly doesn’t deserve any of this either. 

Yet, he does it anyway. He doesn’t care what Sirius says he deserves or doesn’t. 

He doesn’t get it. Everyone would be better off without him, he makes it all worse. Remus would have a better life without him, it’s so obvious. He makes things hard. People have to accommodate for him. Even if they don’t think they do, everyone does. Sometimes it’s just the little things like needing to go to specific restaurants for him, or it’s having to do extra for him when he can’t do anything. For people like Remus and Regulus they have it the worst. More so Remus now compared to years ago when it all fell on his little brother. 

And now things are worse for James too. He was always meant to be the exception. The one that loved him and never had to see his worst parts. An escape from the burden of being himself, or the version of himself that was in constant turmoil. That’s all gone now. Unless he can fix it when they see each other again. Pretend it never happened, pretend James never saw him the way he was. Except Sirius also saw him in a bad state, and he can’t erase that from his mind no matter what he does. 

“Hey, you’re okay.” Remus loosens his grip and rubs soft circles on his hand. 

He’s confused, until realizing how fast his heart is beating and how erratic his breathing got. “Oh. Okay.” 

He blinks it away and tries to slow his breathing. Sirius didn’t mean to work himself up, it just happened. He hates that he does that. Especially when he’s trying to control it all and get himself out of a bad place. It only puts him in a worse space, making it harder to get out. So now he just sits here receiving comfort he doesn’t deserve and stares blankly ahead. The television no longer registers in his head, in fact nothing does. 

His body numbs. Feeling this coming on doesn’t always happen, but even knowing right now isn’t enough motivation to stop it. Sometimes not feeling anything is the easiest way out. He’s still here, but feeling much less. It’s the best he can do without fully going away. 

It’s ironic because when he gets too used to this numb state, one way out is finding something that will hurt. He doesn’t always go for a blade, it doesn’t always work. But forcing himself to eat will do it sometimes. Giving himself something to focus on like his chest hurting or his stomach screaming at him. And at first it’s welcome, feeling after not for so long, but then it’s worse. 

The cycle is endless and he just wants out. He never really gets what he wants though. 

Even if the cycle never ends, time keeps going. Mostly against his will, but sometimes it’s nice that it does. If it stopped completely, he would end up stuck here forever. The cycle would have nothing to go through. It would all be stagnant. But times does move, and Sirius has to face it. 

Whenever he thinks about it a little bit too much, he realizes how long he’s been in this cycle. It hasn’t been forever, there was a time before everything got bad. He doesn’t remember any of that all that well. His childhood is pretty hazy in his mind aside from a few distinct memories. It has a start date, a time when the cycle first started. Too many years ago now. He just wishes there was an end date. At least then he could make it there somehow. 

But everything is always the same and it’s always going to be the same. He can’t change that. So he tries not to think about it. If he can focus on pretty much anything else, it’s better. He can live with the cycle as long as he pretends he isn’t in it. 

Today though, he’s thinking about it. But just as time always keeps on moving, it does today too. There will be an end to today at least. They just have to make it there. The whole day is spent in Remus’ arms, and that about the only reason he does make it to the end. 

The idea of take away for dinner isn’t brought up again. He was thinking about it, but couldn’t come up with anything that he knew he would be able to stomach, so he avoided the topic. Remus doesn’t push when he’s like this, but he still won’t let him waste away. So he made some toast when it got far too late for actual dinner. 

They eat it together in front of the television which continued droning on all day. Sirius sits on the floor with his back against the couch and the plate on the coffee table. He doesn’t eat too quickly, but also tries to get through it while it’s still warm from being in the toaster. Behind him, Remus eats on the couch, and when he’s done, he slides a leg on either side of Sirius and starts to braid his hair.

It distracts him a bit, which is good. At least he can get through the actual eating alright. Small bites, one at a time. A food that he likes, it should be manageable. It is, really. Just when he starts to think about how he should be trying harder or eating something better for him, or even just the fact that he wishes he was normal and didn’t have this reaction to food. It’s manageable, but his own brain makes it worse. 

Once Sirius finishes eating, far longer after he started than it should be, he climbs back onto the couch and lays his head in Remus’ lap. He curls his legs in and just waits for his chest to start hurting. It doesn’t take that long and from the outside it doesn’t seem like anything changes. But he can feel it. It’s there and it spreads to his stomach and he can’t get it to stop. 

They stay there for a little while. Remus doesn’t make him get up. He seems perfectly fine just sitting there, soothing Sirius, and talking to him as if nothing is happening. This is normal for them, but not for anyone else. He feels awful about that, this shouldn’t be Remus’ normal. He deserves better.

“Do you want to move to the bed? Or I can go get your favourite blanket from in there.” He says barely over a whisper. 

“Okay.” Sirius hears himself saying.

“Which one?” Remus laughs lightly. 

“Bed.”

He’s starting to feel disconnected again. His voice doesn’t feel like it’s coming from his throat and he doesn’t fully feel himself get up off the couch or the steps from there to the bedroom. They just sort of happen. What he does still feel, possibly the only thing right now, is his chest pulling at itself and his stomach yelling for something. Even Remus’ hand on the small of his back doesn’t feel right. 

Tonight though he can’t deal with that. Maybe tomorrow. Or perhaps he will wake up and be able to feel again. It’s nothing to worry about, he knows this. It’s happened before and it will happen again. He just needs to make it through this time. And then make it through the next thing and the next. And then, and then, and then. That’s how it always goes. 

Get through this, and then. 

And then,

and then,

and then,

and

then

adhn

nte

and then. 

It keeps going. Remus has both of his hands cupping his cheeks, holding him together. They’re warm and that sensation brings him back, makes him open his eyes and look up at him. 

“You’re okay, I’ve got you.” 

Oh. He hadn’t even noticed the spiral he was caught in. He’s out of it, at least for now, thanks to Remus. Somehow he always notices and always gets it to stop. If only briefly. This time it just needs to be long enough for him to crawl into bed and fall asleep. It’s easier said than done, but if he tries he can pretend that counts. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Sirius just nods along, falls back against the pillows, and pulls the duvet up to his chin. 

The entire night Remus holds him. Making sure he’s there, or assuring him that he’s not alone. He never really knows whose benefit it’s for, but he hopes it’s Remus’. He doesn’t want to be a burden even while he sleeps. Being held is great, but it also means that he can’t get up and put headphones on to fill his head with music. Sirius is stuck here until morning. It would be too much to wrestle his way out of the arms clasped around him. Too much energy that he doesn’t have. 

By morning he’s not sure how much sleep he actually got. Not enough, that’s for sure. But it’s something. It might be enough for him to get up and try today. At least he’s going to do that anyway. He doesn’t want to burden Remus even more than he already has. So today he’s fine.  That’s just how it needs to be.

He rolls over to face Remus and finds that he’s awake too. “Hi.”

“Hi sweetheart. How do you feel today?” His voice is soft and gentle, not pushing him in the slightest. 

“I’m okay I think. Yeah, okay.” Sirius manages to say, even sounding somewhat convincing to himself. Until he winces when he adjusts his body again and the bandage, that definitely needs to be changed at some point, shifts and rubs at the cuts. 

Going along with the fact (lie) that he’s okay right now, he gets up and heads straight to the bathroom. He has bandages hidden in here somewhere even if the bag is still under the bed. Or wherever he last left it. Which reminds him that he should probably find that and put it somewhere he won’t forget and that Remus won’t find. But that’s something he can deal with later. Right now he’s just going to pull the bandages from the cabinet and deal with it now. That way he won’t need to for the rest of the day at least. 

It started to pull up at the edges so he just yanks it the rest of the way. It doesn’t hurt. He tries not to let his eyes drift down or to linger and he is mostly successful. When putting the new bandage on he needs to look just a little bit but squeezes his eyes shut as soon as he places it. No need to look for longer. Not while he just needs to smooth it over and then pull his joggers back on.

Quickly he flips the sink on and starts to brush his teeth. Remus doesn’t come over to check on him or see what he’s doing. It almost surprises him. Normally he would want to keep an eye on him especially right now, but he must trust him enough. Why? Sirius is really not sure. 

The minty toothpaste makes him feel a little bit more present. Cleaner. Less like he is going to fall apart. When he’s done he swishes some cold water around and spits it out. He turns to walk out of the bathroom, the door was still open since he didn’t close it, and finds Remus just now walking to him.

“Alright?”

“Mmhm…” Sirius hums while avoiding eye contact.

“Okay good. We can do anything today, I’m thinking reading or watching more TV.” He pretends like all of this is normal. 

It’s not normal. They don’t usually waste away like this day after day. Remus loves to do things, even if it’s just going out to the park or wandering the streets or making plans and seeing their friends. Except Sirius, when he’s feeling good at least, is usually the one to insist they do something. He feels like he has to when there are so many times that he gets like this. He can’t also fade into nothing when he’s at a good point. That’s reserved for when he’s at his worst. 

He doesn’t fight it though. They can lay here today. Sirius can’t muster up the energy for anything more, so it has to do. Just like most days, they leave the bedroom one after the other and Sirius goes to the couch while Remus goes straight to the kitchen. Tea, right. He will always make them tea. And luckily that is something that he can pretty much always stomach or have at least a few sips of. Today he’s a bit more optimistic that he will enjoy it or maybe even want a bite to eat with it. Optimistic might not be the right work. He’s never optimistic, never has been and probably never will be. 

But he doesn’t feel awful right now and his chest doesn’t hurt, so tea and whatever food Remus brings over it is. It’s one of his protein bars. A peanut butter and chocolate chip one. Those are his favourite, so he can try. Slowly he unwraps it while the tea sits on the table cooling to a temperature his tongue can handle. It’s small enough that even eating slowly, it only takes a few minutes to eat. 

His chest doesn’t really hurt much when he’s done. It might start soon, but it’s done. He ate the whole bar, which isn’t a lot, but it’s good for him. He doesn’t need to think about the next thing he will need to eat for a while. At least a few hours. Remus might offer him things if he gets anything himself, but he won’t force him for now. Or ever really, but he tries to as nicely as he can. Sirius knows that all he wants is for him to try.

The tea is good too. He sips on it as music plays in the background. Remus pulled out a book and has looked up after every single page. Possibly after every paragraph if he’s reading slowly. Sirius lets himself zone out. Not in a thinking way though, he’s definitively not doing that. The music is filling his head and it’s a good enough distraction. As long as nothing sets off a string of thoughts. 

As Remus reads, he looks at each individual strand of his hair and each freckle across his face. It gives him something to focus on. That’s always what he needs and rarely is able to get. He’s counted at least 100 but lost track of where he was when Remus lifted his head, yet again, to make sure he was still there and still okay. 

Which he is. He’s okay. 

And that’s how the day goes. He only realizes how much time has passed when Remus shuts his book and puts it down on the table, bookmark next to it. “You finished?” He nods. “That was fast.”

“It was actually slow. For me at least. I normally would have finished that hours ago.” He softly smiles. 

“Oh, sorry I distracted you.” Sirius looks around and finds that outside through the window is a fading sky. 

He doesn’t respond to that. Instead he leans over and crawls across the couch. Another kiss is pressed to his temple and then the other one, and then a peck on his lips. The couch isn’t that deep, but he adjusts them to be back in each other’s arms. His favourite place to be. Whatever today has been, might have fixed him. He really is okay. Right now at least. 

Just like any other day something could set him off, but nothing should now. It’s just the two of them and nothing else matters. His chest hurt a bit after the protein bar, but it went away quickly. Today is also a day without a headache, so it’s good. He probably wouldn’t have been able to do anything else today, but he could do this. And he did the best he could. 

“It’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for.” Remus finally answers. “I mean it.”

“I have a lot to be sorry about… That was just the easiest to talk about.” He sighs, stopping himself from saying any more. 

“You really don’t. Do you want to talk about it though?”

Not really, no. He really would not like to talk about it. Any of it. Talking has never been his thing. At least not when it comes to himself. He will gladly talk in groups or about the things and people he loves, but not about himself. Everything most people know about him has been a curated view. Remus is an exception to that, but it doesn’t make talking any easier. But there isn’t exactly a way out of talking about it. He had just been delaying it as much as he could. Foolishly he thought that being okay today would get him out of it entirely. 

It does not. Because right there next to him, Remus is being the most patient person he has ever known, and is still looking at him with way more love than he deserves. He doesn’t look at him like he’s broken or that he did anything wrong, when he definitely did. He just waits until Sirius is ready, except he’s never ready so he just dives right in. Head first. 

From the beginning, which is one of the harder parts. He wasn’t even doing that bad, but he watches as he breaks Remus’ heart when he says that it got bad before he left. That he lied about breakfast and let him leave him alone. He knows that being entirely alone like that isn’t good, clearly… But he did it anyway. He probably won’t get another chance to do that for a long time. Which is good, right? It should be, but right now Sirius doesn’t know.

Getting through that whole first day and how it just kept piling on up until the breaking point of him calling James is hard. “You called for help, that’s good. I’m glad you did that even if it wasn’t me.” Remus tightens his arms that are wrapped around him.

“It… I don’t think it was good. I think it made things worse.” He sighs. 

It’s obvious that as he’s recounting how things went with James, after he got in bed, and the next day, that Remus isn’t expecting it. At least not all of it. What he isn’t surprised by is the sporadic quietness from James or how he didn’t answer the questions Sirius asked. All of which, he is personally still confused by. 

“You did your best, I don’t know what’s going on with him, but you’re a good friend. I know he didn’t let you do much to help, but you did everything you could. You weren’t feeling good either, it’s really okay. Regulus said he’s doing okay, you don’t need to worry.” He tries to reassure him.

Of course he is going to worry. It’s James. He could have done more. He should have. Right? A better friend would have. They wouldn’t have let him get like that in the first place. But he did and he couldn’t fix it once it happened, so he didn’t do his best. He doesn’t want to keep thinking about it, he knows that if he does it will make things worse. But it’s there and sticking to his brain, so he’ll have to think about it eventually. 

He gets to the part of the night when he was left alone again and he breezes through it. There is no point to doing that, because Remus still knows and he’ll see himself eventually. But it’s easier than talking about it. He doesn’t have the energy to talk about it. At the end of it all, he vaguely mentions having gone to work and leaving early. Which makes Remus look at him with a face of almost disappointment that he hates. It’s not that he is actually disappointed or feeling any negative emotion toward Sirius, he just looks sad. He knows that he would have wanted to be here to help him, but that wasn’t an option and Sirius wasn’t about to call him to take him away from his mother, so it’s how it went. 

Now that he’s caught up, well Sirius is exhausted. “Can we go to bed?”

He could just get up and walk there himself, he’s a grown up. But he doesn’t want to go alone. If Remus wants to stay up longer and not in their bed, then he can make that work. Whatever keeps them glued together and Sirius from getting lost in his own head. He’ll do whatever Remus wants to do. 

“Of course, let’s go.” And so they do. 

It’s the first night that he’s easily fallen asleep for a few days. Just the beating of Remus’ heart is enough for him to focus on and to lull him to sleep. The rest he gets, well it’s not the most restful, but it could have been worse. He slept. Thats the important thing, right? It’s good enough, it has to be. 

It’s enough for him to get up in the morning and pretend like everything is okay. They will probably still be staying home and doing nothing today. In theory it’s nice. Not having to expend any energy and being able to just be the two of them. In actuality it provides a lot more space for him to get stuck in his head and spiral. Remus of course knows this and does what he can to stop it, but it still happens. 

It hasn’t yet though, Sirius woke up and is okay. So he shouldn’t think about the ways it could go wrong later on. That would be a stupid thing to do. Maybe today will be fine and it would ruin it to think or assume otherwise. It’ll be fine, until it’s not. 

When Remus rolls over to find him already sitting up and awake, his eyes go a bit wide. Not expecting him to be like that, he thinks. His face settles into a soft smile. Good. Sirius likes when he smiles. Especially if it’s when he’s looking at him. That means he is doing something right. That he hasn’t totally fucked up everything good in his life. 

“Good morning.” He says, the first to talk today for the first time in a while. 

“Hi sweetheart. Sleep okay?” Remus asks, to which he nods in response. “I was thinking about hopping in the shower, want to join me?” 

There’s nothing explicit about the way he asks. Not today. Of course there sometimes is, but this is just him wanting to take care of Sirius. He gets up after Remus and follows him into the bathroom, standing and waiting as he reaches in and turns on the shower. While it warms up he pulls his own clothes off. Sirius lifts his arms up as his shirt is lifted from his body. The whole thing is very gentle, like a dance they have done a hundred times. 

He steps around him to stand behind him, both facing the mirror, but Sirius doesn’t lift his head to look. Remus picks up the brush and lightly runs through his hair. His eyes flutter closed with the soothing action. A kiss is placed to his temple and then his neck, and then he feels the presence leave. He doesn’t want to see himself right now, so he keeps his eyes closed until he turns toward the shower. Before he can decide against it, he slips his pants off and undoes the bandage. 

Remus doesn’t say anything. Obviously he doesn’t, but he should. All he does is take a step into the shower, check that it’s a good temperature and then reaches his hand out to pull Sirius in. He takes it and lets the water fall around him. It’s not as hot as he will usually make it, but it feels nice. His hair is taken into Remus’ hands and drenched with water, his fingers running through it and getting out any tangles. There are a few snags, but that’s expected he hasn’t brushed it in a few days.

The water stings as it runs over his leg, but it washes away any of the bits of dried blood that had been sitting under the bandage. It’s not much but he notices it. He’s not sure if Remus does too, not until his hand brushes over his leg. It’s a gentle touch that distracts him from the way the water hits against it, in a way it feels better. 

“Is soap okay?” He asks, pulling his hand away.

He nods and Remus leans over to grab the bottle and pours some into his hand. He lathers it and starts by helping Sirius wash other parts of him. Slowly he works his way around his body, getting softer and slower as he gets to his thighs. It’s good that he’s doing it, mostly because Sirius knows he needed a shower but even standing in here now he doesn’t have the energy to do any of it himself. At least it was Remus’ idea, so he didn’t have to ask for help. 

For another nearly ten minutes, he just stands there letting the water and Remus do all of the work. He’ll be clean after this which will be good. The helplessness he feels won’t go away though. Once he feels better, hopefully in a few days, he can make it up to Remus. Really apologize for all of this, do something to thank him. He will say he doesn’t have to, but he should. He doesn’t have to be doing any of this for Sirius, and yet he is. That means something. 

Getting out of the shower is a shock, the air much cooler than he thought it was before getting in. The steam and heat of the water was so nice. He wants to get back in. Maybe sit down and let the water just fall onto him. If he just stayed in there forever, nothing else could go wrong. As long as the water stayed hot, it would be better if he just stayed there. He wouldn’t be able to do anything to negatively affect the people he cares about. He would be protecting them, and himself. 

But they both get out. Remus leaves him standing there with a towel draped over his shoulders while he grabs clothes from the bedroom. He returns with his own boxers and shirt already on, and a handful of Sirius’ things. He watches as Remus uses the towel to get some of the water out of his own hair, and then hang it up on the bar behind the door. 

“Do you want something warmer? I only grabbed a shirt.” He asks, looking at him with slight concern. 

He notices then, that he’s shivering beneath the towel. “Oh, okay yeah. A jumper would be good.” 

While he waits he pulls the towel tighter around his arms after pulling his own boxers on. A few seconds later Remus is back with one of his own jumpers. He can feel his eyes go a little wide, and he feels something other than the dread and emptiness and regret he’s been feeling for too long now. It’s a hint of happiness, he thinks. Even just the sight of his boyfriend handing him his favourite jumper makes a difference. 

Not a huge difference, but it’s still something. That’s what matters right? He thinks that’s what other people would tell him. Remus smiles at him, noticing the slight shift. Right, so this is good, he’s doing something right. If only he can keep that up, then things would be fine. He shrugs the jumper on and uses the now free towel to dry his hair a little bit. Just enough that it won’t drip all over him.

He should brush through it now or it will be a problem later. This is something that he knows and always knows and yet he doesn’t have the energy. It shouldn’t be this hard to just take care of his hair but somehow it is. He stands there and reaches to the shelf that has the cream he uses every time he showers. With the bottle in front of him and his brush still sitting on the counter he should just get it over with. 

The brush gets into his hand and as Sirius looks up to meet his eyes in the mirror, things feel like they start to fall apart. Or well, continue falling apart. He had been avoiding meeting his own eyes. Knowing how bad it would be. He can see the dark circles getting more and more prominent and his skin looking too pale. There’s more behind his eyes that he can recognize and hopes so desperately that no one else can. 

“Come here, I can do it.” Remus helpfully cuts in. 

He doesn’t fight him on it. Even with as much as he wants to. It’s just easier to give in. Sirius could pretend that he can do everything on his own and that he doesn’t need help with anything but that would take everything in him, he would crumble. Just that fact eats at him. He shouldn’t be like this. He can’t fix it though. 

“Oh. Yeah thank you.” He says softly in return. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I promise.” 

The morning continues and they get through it. Together. Remus doesn’t leave his side for more than a few minutes, always just making sure he has anything he could need and not letting him use extra energy for anything that he could do instead. The most he seems to end up doing himself is walking from the bedroom to the couch or from the couch to the table and back. 

He manages to eat a small breakfast of some fruit and toast. Which is good. It’s something at least. He should have more, he should try harder, but something is better than nothing. That’s what Remus keeps reminding him, and what he already knows. Years of dealing with being like this makes it both easier and harder. Easier because at least he knows what’s coming and how to deal with it. But it’s harder because now he can overthink it. Sirius knows all of the reasons he is being silly, why his thoughts around food are not rational, why he should be able to get past it. Yet here he is still feeling so out of control with it. 

What helps is that Remus doesn’t try to make him eat anything that doesn’t feel safe right now. None of the foods that he can only have when he’s not worried about it. It’s a small set of things he will eat right now, or at least try to, and he just goes along with it. Next to him Remus has the exact same breakfast, but in a bit larger of a portion. Oddly it makes him feel better, though in the back of his mind he feels bad that Remus has to do this at all. 

“Sirius?” He hesitantly says, making Sirius’ stomach drop. 

Talking has been easier today, so instead of just looking up at him, he answers. “Yeah?” 

“You’re feeling alright today, right love? It’s okay if you’re not, but I wanted to ask first.” 

“I’m alright.” It doesn’t feel fully the truth or fully a lie, but it’s fine. He doesn’t really know how he feels to be honest, so ‘alright’ is a good enough answer. 

Remus looks down at his phone and back up at him. He hadn’t seen that he was on his phone at all, but there’s a text conversation pulled up that he’s looking at. His eyes won’t focus enough to make out who it is. Maybe it’s James, at some point he had asked him to check on him. Later when he charges his phone he should probably text him. Not about anything specific, just text him their usual nonsense. That would help, he thinks, but doing that right now would take too much out of him and he feels awful about that. James shouldn’t, he doesn’t usually, take any energy away from Sirius, he gives him more. 

“That’s good, I’m glad you feel okay right now. Yo- er, Regulus is coming over. I said you were okay and that I’ve got you, but he insisted. I think he’s coming soon,”

“What? No I don’t want him to come. Tell him no.” Sirius starts to panic.

This time he feels it start and watches it happen. The panic rises in him like it was sleeping and just waiting for a reason to come out. His breathing gets irregular and his heart is ready to pulse out of his chest. He swallows it all down and tries to stop it. That’s the one thing about catching this when it’s starting is that if he’s lucky enough he can get it to stop. It’s hard, but it’s better than not noticing and the next thing he knows he’s unable to move or speak and is entirely enveloped by the panic. 

He squeezes his hand into a fist and tries to breathe. If Regulus is going to be here, he needs to get this under control. Years ago his brother saw him much worse than this, more than a few times. That doesn’t make Sirius any more inclined to be anything other than perfectly okay in front of him now. He just needs a little bit of time. Ten minutes, maybe more. Just to get it under control and looking like he’s fine. 

“It will be okay sweetheart. I can sit with you while he’s here if that will help. Whatever you want I’ll do.” Remus squeezes his hand and that does calm him a bit. 

The touch stabilizes him. He’s here and so is Remus and that’s good. Right? Yeah, it’s something. He can be okay, he has to be okay. They sit there and never break contact from each other. It reminds him that he’s here, it keeps him present. Which he needs to be in order to make himself be fine for Regulus. 

Eventually he gets his breathing to be somewhat normal. He knows he should look at himself to make sure he looks okay. There’s too much risk with that, he won’t let himself spiral again before his brother gets here. He just got himself out of one spiral, another would not be good. A knock comes at the door. There isn’t time for anything else. His heart beats faster than it was a second ago, but he keeps everything else down and hidden. 

Remus goes to the door and lets him in before heading to the bedroom. They decided he didn’t need to be by Sirius’ side for this. That he could manage talking to his brother on his own. But if he needs him, he’s right there. It will be fine. If he can convince himself now that it will be fine, it will be. 

“Hi Reggie. What brings you over today?” He forces the words out as cheerfully as possible. 

“You don’t need to fake being okay with me. Can we talk? I’m worried about you.” 

Whenever he says things like that, it makes his heart and his stomach and his entire being twist into knots. His little brother should never worry about him. That’s his job. Sirius is the big brother here, he is the one who is supposed to take care of him. Not the other way around. Which has already happened too many times. He’s not in the business of letting that continue if he can stop it. 

He doesn’t immediately respond, which is mistake number one. More like mistake number one million, but only considering right now, it’s the first. The silence probably tells Regulus what he wants to know. That he’s right. Sirius isn’t okay and there is probably something for him to worry about. It makes him want to scream. 

No one should worry about him. He’s not even worth worrying about. It would be easier for everyone if they didn’t worry over him. Just- he’s always going to be like this. So worrying is a waste of time. There would be no end to it and they all deserve more than this. 

“I’d rather not talk. But thanks for coming over here.” He tries again to deflect. 

“Have you eaten today?” 

“Yes.” Sirius snaps probably too quickly. 

“Is Remus going to tell me the same thing if I ask?” Regulus stares him down expecting him to break. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Yes! We ate together this morning. And as you can see from my still damp hair, I also had a shower today. So see, I’m fine! Is that all?” He almost goes on with anything else he can think of that could prove that he’s fine enough for his little brother to leave him be, but he doesn’t. 

“Okay fine. I just want to make sure. I- I know how things can just spiral if one thing is wrong. The other night you didn’t seem okay and I should have probably stayed to make sure you would be but I didn’t.” His face softens from his previous accusatory tone. 

Oh. Right. He saw him the other night when he had to come to help James. And if he thought Sirius wasn’t okay and still left… Then James probably isn’t okay either. If there is one thing he knows is that his brother wouldn’t leave him on his own while struggling unless he absolutely had to. It makes his stomach drop even further, which he didn’t know was possible, and now the little food he did genuinely eat today is threatening to come up. 

Checking on James gets moved to the top of the list of priorities in his mind. Nothing else matters if he’s not okay that his best friend and he has to be okay. If he isn’t okay then Sirius doesn’t know how he would ever be okay again. He just has to pull himself together for James’ sake. And he can do that, he will do that. 

The other night was bad. He really would rather not think about it, but now he is. Desperately trying to grasp at the thoughts and memories to figure out what he looked like when Regulus was here. What he saw. How much damage control he needs to do right now. At least he’s on the way to fixing the food thing. He’s eating again and eventually he will find a way to get back to normal with the foods that messed things up this time. It will be fine. 

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” 

“I don’t think that you are. Can you not lie to me? You don’t have to lie to me.” His eyes are big and they make Sirius weak, but he doesn’t want to not be okay so he doesn’t budge. 

“I’m here, see. I’m fine.” He spreads his arms out showing that he’s alive and in front of him. 

Except that was the wrong thing to do. Regulus takes this moment to snatch one of his arms and pull it closer to him. His sleeve is shoved up him arm and his brother just stares, finding nothing. Of course there is nothing there on his arm, either arm, for him to find. Not anymore. He knows better than that now. It’s not as easy to hide. 

“You’re not going to find what you think you will.” He willingly gives his other wrist over, also blank. “Now do you believe me? I’m. Fine.” He hisses through his teeth. 

“I know you aren’t! Just stop fucking lying to me. I care about you. You’re my brother and I want you to be okay. Fuck, Sirius, please. I want to help.” Silence. He doesn’t want to be helped, it wouldn’t do anything anyway. Regulus should stop trying, it’s not worth it. “Please… I’d do anything for you.” He stops yelling, in exchange for barely audible pleas.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything. This is just how I am. You should know that by now.” Sirius resigns. 

After everything his brother still thinks he can be fixed. He can’t, if you were wondering.  It took him a while to figure it out himself, but he always ends up back here. Things always get bad again. Even when they are fine, he knows it’s only his version of fine. The way he lives, the way he endures, is not how people are supposed to. But it’s just the way it is for him. 

Why won’t everyone else understand that? Why won’t they all stop wasting time trying to help him?

“You have gotten better before. I’ve seen it. After…” He doesn’t elaborate. “you started taking those meds and things were going okay. Some days were hard but you got through it. And it’s been better since then, right?” 

“I stopped taking those meds. I’m not on anything right now. I don’t want to be.” He remembers taking them and never feeling like himself. 

“Sirius. You should be taking them. Or try talking to someone again.” 

“No. I’m fine. End of discussion.” 

Regulus just stares back at him. Finally speechless. That’s what Sirius wanted. For him to stop asking if he’s okay, to stop insisting that he’s not. Just to stop. 

Except it doesn’t make him feel any better. In a way it makes him feel worse. He can’t even manage to ensure that the people he cares about are happy. Instead he actively makes everything worse. He’s a bad person with a bad brain and they all seem to care for the wrong reasons, they all seem to think that he is better than this. But he’s not because he’s not good enough for them and he’s barely a person most of the time. 

Then in front of him his eyes catch on a tear budding in Regulus’ eye. Just the one and he’s surely going to ignore it or wipe it away before it can fall. He’s not going to cry over Sirius, that’s not a good enough reason to cry. He doesn’t stop it though, the tear falls and his eyes follow it all the way down to where it drops from his chin onto his lap. 

It rips him apart and the mask he had been using all of his energy to hold up starts to crumble. He did this. He made his little brother cry. All he was trying to do was show him that he’s okay, that there is nothing to worry about. It had the opposite affect apparently, or he’s not a good enough actor. Either way he’s crying and if Sirius weren’t too numb, he would probably cry too. 

“I’m sorry Reggie, I’m sorry.” He whispers, hoping that will be enough. 

“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your fault you’re struggling. I’ll do anything to help, please just let me. Or Remus. Lean on us we can hold you together.” Regulus wipes the next tear away before it rolls down his cheek. 

He doesn’t mean to do it as a deflection, though it may come off that way. “How is James? Is he- is he okay? I’m worried about him.” 

“He will be. I’ve got him. It’s good that he has you too, but right now I can handle him.” 

That also has probably the opposite effect as he intended it to. 

Sirius knows that he called his brother to help with James, obviously he is aware of that. In that moment he would not have been able to help. But now? He could help now. He can be a shoulder for James if that’s what he needs or he could distract him with funny stories and pictures of cute animals. There are endless ways he can be the Sirius that James loves and use that to help him be better and support him while he’s not. 

But he’s not needed. He isn’t enough to help James and Regulus is making that so clear. His insides are ripping to shreds and echos in his mind are getting louder and louder. You’re not enough. You will never be enough. No one needs you. No one wants you. You’re not enough. You will never be enough. No one needs you. No one wants you. You’re not enough. You will never be enough. No one needs you. No one wants you. You’re not enough. You will never be enough. No one needs you. No one wants you. 

“Hey, Sirius.” Regulus grabs his hands that had started to scratch at his thighs. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Tears start then, as much as he wishes they wouldn’t. His little brother, that he is supposed to take care of, pulls him in to hold him. He’s done this before, yet it still feels unnatural. As kids it was always the other way around, that way it made sense. Sirius was happy to take care of him, he practically raised him, it was right that way. 

And then he was 17 and Regulus held him and hasn’t stopped holding him. Everything changed and hasn’t made any sense since then. 

After that they don’t say anything more until Regulus leaves, not long after that. In all he wasn’t there very long. He has James to get back to, and that’s more important. He doesn’t move from his spot even once Regulus is gone, this feels comfortable. Remus does take his place in holding him. For the rest of the day and through the night. He’s always holding him. As if he’s scared of what will happen if he lets go. Sirius might actually be the one who’s afraid he will fall apart if someone isn’t there, but he won’t tell that to anyone. 

He’s as okay as he can be, from the outside. No one knows that he’s still falling apart inside, that everything is constantly unraveling in his brain. No one needs to know that, not if he keeps it hidden like he wants to.