one step away
It takes Sirius a few days, or maybe a week or two, before he actually picks up the books to read them. It just hasn’t been high on his priority list. What with his birthday and just life in general happening. The fall is hard, but had he known, he wouldn’t have waited even a second once he had his hands on them.
The realisation takes about half of the first book. Once it hits he can’t stop. He speeds through them as fast as he could possibly read. Not too fast that he would miss any details, but that wasn’t very difficult. He already knows everything written here. He lived it. Most of it at least.
He spends all morning reading that first one. He has the day off work so once he got up he cracked it open and couldn’t put it down. That didn’t go quite so well. By the end of it his head is pounding but he can’t stop. He has to read more. There is no way to fully stop without getting more answers.
Through the second one he struggles more. It takes him into the middle of the afternoon. Tears and a million thoughts later, he finds himself at a coffee shop. The second book done, the third in his hand. He’ll have to remain more composed here. He’ll have to get through it as best he can. By now he already knows. He knows exactly what he is getting into and he is perhaps starting to come to terms with the small fact of the author.
Starting to is the key phrase there. It’ll take a while for that to sink in.
It’s really weird reading it. All of the memories he neatly tucked away and locked up so long ago. The things he only lets himself think about a handful of times each year. Only on birthdays. Those are the days Sirius thinks about some of his favourite people in the world. That’s what it used to be. Now it’s a little more frequent, with Andromeda around to talk to about it.
Coffee helps with the headache. It’s the best he can do right now and there isn’t an option for him to put the books down now. He just can’t. After a second coffee, he only has the end of the book left. Against better judgement he gets a third. The cafe is closing soon, so he’ll have to leave anyway. That’s when he calls Remus. On the way home, mind a mess. Barely keeping it together. It takes all of his energy. Remus gives him more, he keeps him breathing, he keeps him present.
The hardest part right now is the way everything floods back in. The gates are open and there is no telling and no stopping what is to come. He can’t do anything about it. A few months ago, a year ago, even longer than that, he would have wanted to. But right now he doesn’t. He takes the pain in stride.
Why? Any sane person wouldn’t. Any sane person would protect themselves from all of the hurt. Sirius instead revels in it. In a way he even thinks he deserves it. Floats in the tears that stream from his eyes without stopping. He hates how much the five of them went through, he hates how alone they all felt in it. These books make him realise that. It’s not that none of them knew that each other were struggling, they did, but seeing it painted clear as day is even more eye opening. It’s undeniable like this.
He doesn’t put the books down until he gets through the third one. He leaves the cafe and knows what awaits him now. The fourth book.
So far he’s survived reading them. He’s been able to read them without looking the truth squarely in the eye. He figured it out hours ago, but he tried not to think about it. That his brother wrote these. It could only be him, it’s so obvious. When he first figured out that the first book was about Andromeda it felt like a punch to the gut. He nearly keeled over and emptied his stomach, but instead he continued reading.
It’s worse now, because he knows the pattern. Or the order at least. In order of when each of them left home. Meaning fourth is him. The next book is his own and he isn’t sure that he’s ready to face this one. Of course he needs to read it, he has to know what this all looked like to his brother. He’s terrified though. He’s on his way home to read it, but Remus isn’t there and there is no one else around to comfort him when he flips open this book. He has to though. His boyfriend is out at work most likely, and he thinks now that he should know that with more certainty. He doesn’t.
Even despite just walking through the front door after leaving the coffee shop, he really doesn’t even know if it is a reasonable hour of the day or if he’s awake and reading at two in the morning and Remus is waiting for him to crawl into bed. That doesn’t sound right, that would be too disorienting. Sirius isn’t the most sound of mind right now.
He’s barely taken a breath since reading. Hardly said more than a handful of words to order a coffee. Let alone held an entire conversation. Of which there are multiple he needs to have. Right now, probably. Choosing an entirely alternate course of action, he places the books all off to the side when he walks through the door and pats his coat pockets to find his phone. It ought to be here somewhere, and he hopes it still has a charge.
It does. “Where are you?”
“Hello sweetheart.” His thick voice responds. “I’m good thanks for asking, are you alright?” His mocking is sweet, but not appropriate for the urgency in Sirius’ own voice.
“None of that right now please. Where are you?”
“In the car, what’s going on?”
He sucks in a breath, holding it as he speaks. “It’s him. He– he wrote these books.”
“Him who?”
“Him! My… my brother. Re, he’s– I, fuck I could find him right now. James… He said his boyfriend wrote these. He’s dating my brother .”
His heart is racing. A million beats a second. Thumping in his chest. He’s so close. So fucking close and he doesn’t know what to do about it. He has to do the right thing, but he just wants to call James and find out everything and… He knows he can’t just do that.
“What are you saying? How do you know that? Are you sure? Did James say something?”
“The books… They’re about us.” All of the air leaves his lungs as he admits it out loud.
There is no other explanation. He looked for one. He didn’t want this to be true, at least not fully. He’s closer to finding his brother than he has been ever before. Sirius hasn’t been searching, just longing. And technically he’s already found. He’s right there. Just the other week he met his brother’s boyfriend. He hasn’t seen his brother in years, closer to a decade than not, but he’s shared drinks with his boyfriend. He’s read his words, hundreds of thousands of them. But he hasn’t seen him. He doesn’t even really know him, not as he is now.
Everything goes blank. There’s a buzzing in his ears that fills the space. He can’t make out anything that Remus is saying through the phone anymore, but when he blinks the room back into focus he finds that the phone dropped from his hands. He picks it up, trying to steady himself. An impossible feat right now.
“–ou need? Sirius, can you hear me? I’ll be there soon. Do you want me to call Andy?” The sound of Remus does a bit to bring him back to the present.
“Sorry, sorry. Yeah if you could but d–don’t say…”
“I won’t tell her. That’s for you to do. Just breathe for me sweetheart. Can you do that?”
“I can.” He takes a deep breath and audibly lets it go against the phone. “Hear that? I’m breathing.”
Remus lets out a puff of air. “Good. Andy will come over and I’ll be home right aft– as soon as I can. Okay? I love you.”
“I love you.”
He moves to sit in a different spot, just needing to move to get out some of the anxious energy coursing through him. It hardly does anything. He just needs something to work. When he looks over and sees the books staring back at him again he almost wants to pick them up again. It wouldn’t do him any good. The thing is that he knows exactly what is coming for him to read next. He’s not ready for that. His own story, told by his brother.
If his hands were steady enough he would call James. They’re still becoming friends, but Sirius is pretty sure he would pick up. If he asked him to tell him about his boyfriend he would gladly do it. He wants to hear more, it’s gnawing at his mind knowing how easily he could do that. Except it wouldn’t be right. His brother would hate for him to learn about who he has grown into that way.
There are too many mistakes Sirius has already made. That will not be another one. He looks out the window instead, over the city and into the distance. His fingers scratch at his wrist anxiously. As his eyes unfocus, memories take the place of reality in front of him. Sitting on the roof staring out over a different view of the city. His brother beside him. A place they found themselves often, especially when things were bad and they needed an escape.
It used to be a good memory, or perhaps it was only ever good in the moment. It’s now the place he messed up. The last place they had together that was good, and he ruined it by leaving. Does he still think of it as good or was it ruined for him too? Would reading this next book give him those answers?
The books gave him other answers. Mostly to questions he didn’t even know he had. He read them so quickly that he didn’t take the time to sit with it. Now that’s what he’s doing. Sitting with all of the feelings that showed up to whack him over the head.
With the first book he was too focused on the realisation that his brother wrote these. He already knew how things went with Andromeda. The first to leave, the first to find a way out. Sirius didn’t wonder much about that, not to mention he’s heard it all from her now.
It’s the second book that keeps hitting him even hours after putting it down. Getting out of the house didn’t help as much as he wanted it to. How Narcissa fled. It hurt his brother at the time more than it hurt him. The two of them spent countless hours together at the dance studio. Each the youngest of their sides of the family tree. Their own burdens only the other understood. Sirius remembers when she left, no one was expecting it. He tried to comfort his brother but it all just felt hard. It felt wrong. That they had gone from five to three.
Uneven again after just starting to learn to exist as four.
The whole time he didn’t realise how awful things were for Cissa. He didn’t know how much pressure his aunt and uncle were putting on her. She was the youngest, is the youngest of the three. There was no reason for their expectations to be all that they were. Sirius should have seen it though. He was hardly old enough to truly stand up for her, but he could have tried. The whole time his brother seemed to know, though he was even younger. He couldn’t do anything at all.
It makes his head spin.
All of them were children, though Bella had just turned eighteen. Or something like that. It’s hard to remember. The second book lays it all out for him. All of the bits and pieces he forgot or blocked out, presented to him in these pages. The way things got worse after Andy left, even more so than it did for Sirius and his brother. The two remaining sisters were divided by necessity and the younger of the two was barely holding it together.
She would still go to all of her dance classes even when she was too weak to do anything. There was no reprieve for her, except in Sirius’ little brother who was too young and still tried his very best. It’s not his fault that he couldn’t fix it. But someone should have.
By the time he opened the third book, his heart stopped shattering into more and more pieces. The anger had started to set in in its place. Sipping on his coffee was the only thing keeping him grounded while reading. His brother shouldn’t have held the burden of helping Narcissa, but someone should have. Bellatrix should have. She was of age, she could have taken her sister and run. She could have taken all of them. Why didn’t she?
The memories of that time are fuzzy at best in his mind. As his cousins were dropping off one by one, Walburga and Orion took it upon themselves to prove their side of the family was superior. The expectations on him increased tenfold and he wanted no part of it. There was no time for him to really see what was happening outside of that. He was barely keeping himself alive, and he was worried over his brother. That’s all he had in him.
The anger toward Bella isn’t unfounded, and it’s certainly not unfair. But he does understand her. It forces him to face things he would rather not. A mirror held up in front of him against his will. The anger bubbles and bubbles, but it doesn’t spill over. It all simmers by the end. Replaced by guilt and dread for the next book.
The farthest he gets is bringing it into his lap when there is a knock at the door. He’s glad to not have opened it yet. He can put it off now.
“Sirius? It’s me.”
“D–” He clears his throat, and repeats louder. “Door’s open!”
She flies in having no idea what to expect. Rushes over to him as soon as she sees. “What’s going on? Remus wouldn’t say or he didn’t have enough information. Wha– Oh were you reading?” She picks up one of the books, her own. “Wait, I've seen these before! I tried to find the first in the series but couldn't find it anywhere. Do you mind if I borrow this?”
That doesn’t make sense. How would she know about these books and not have told him? She wants to read the one about her? Sirius is ready to throw up just knowing his book exists, he doesn’t know that he’ll be able to read it. Well, he will. There’s no question that one day he will read it. But it will rip his heart and soul to shreds in the process. How could she be so eager?
Andy settles in and perhaps keeps talking. The ringing in his ears is back and he can’t get his eyes to focus. This is just– He can’t explain it. This is wrong. It’s awful. But at the same time he’s a phone call or a text away from possibly seeing his brother again. If that’s even something he would want.
If that’s even something he would want. That’s the unknown now and it will just about kill him.
“Did you hear me? What’s wrong?” She presses, this time reaching a hand out to get his attention.
“Do you know what these are?” It’s easier to ask like that. Not in so many words.
“A book series. What do you mean?”
He swallows the anxiety down into his throat, pointing to the first. “That one, is about you.”
His cousin stares at him confused, the truth not yet sinking in.
Now he points to the two discarded where he had sat for the entire morning and afternoon and where one fell from his hands when he walked back in. “Those, are about Cissa and Bella.”
His heart is pounding, and then all at once it stops. Everything stops. Sirius flexes his fingers around the spine of the book he can’t let go of.
“And this one… is about me.”
Andromeda looks at him like he’s lost his mind. Rude, but maybe he has. There’s no real proof of this thought right now. Except for the hundreds of thousands of words sitting right here between them. Sure it took a little while into the first one to figure out it was about his cousin, but something in him knew sooner. A few pages maybe. He could recognize the writing even if he didn’t know why.
There’s a secret language only a few in the world know. Nothing written or spoken, it’s a language all their own that doesn’t require anything but each other. No one can learn it, you’re born with an understanding of it. He only had to read for a minute or two to recognize it between the lines.
He can’t remember if he ever read anything his brother wrote when they were younger. Sirius was the artist and his brother was the dancer. Though there has always been a lot more to both of them that only a select few have ever gotten to see. Either way, even if he has never once read a single sentence written by his brother, he knew. He knows.
She just stares at him waiting for more. Waiting for something to come out of his mouth that makes sense and explains what he’s saying. That’s a big ask. But she’s the only person he can talk to right now that will understand. Once she knows she will get it. He won’t be alone in this right now.
“And there’s a fifth one coming out.” So he starts talking again. Not taking a breath the entire time.
Starting with how he sat down to read and hasn’t done anything else since. He goes through what the books are. The first three. The three sisters. One for each of them. Not in birth order, none of them care about that sort of thing like their parents always did. Instead, in order of first to leave through last to remain.
His words tumble and fall out of his mouth faster than he can control them. Sirius no longer knows what he is saying. He could slow down to figure it out, well theoretically he could. He doesn’t have control of himself. It hardly matters, he needs to tell Andy all of this. Better to barely know what he’s saying than to have to think it all through. To sit with this for longer than he has. At least now someone else is in it with him.
Andy isn’t in his view, he can’t really tell what is going on. Did she move to sit somewhere else, did he not pay attention and she left? Or did he just get up and start pacing? It’s really hard to tell. Nothing is clear. Faintly he can hear a voice, so he’s not alone. Most likely at least.
His chest constricts and his throat begins to close. Is he still talking? Words seem to stick around in his mouth for longer, still managing to get out. Vaguely he remembers having gotten through what he needed to say. And if he didn’t then that is just fine. It will be told another time. There’s no way out of that now.
Now he just needs… He needs to go to his brother. He needs to call James, find out where he’s keeping his brother. Figure out how he didn’t put it together sooner. How he didn’t tell him how to find his brother. Sirius has to go to him. Right now, there’s no other choice. It’s been eight and a half years and that’s far too long. He should have found him sooner, he should have he should have he should have HE SHOULD HAVE.
“James. I have to call James. He can help. Where’s my phone?” James James James James.
He can’t find it. Sirius starts throwing up the throw pillows and cushions from the sofa. His phone doesn’t appear with any of this. It’s not where he thought it was and nothing is as he thought it should be. It doesn’t make sense. Why is this happening? He needs his phone to get to James to get to his brother.
His brother is right there. Just past his finger tips. Just barely out of reach, but he can fix that. He can, he can, he can he can .
It could be so simple. Why hasn’t he already done it? His first call should have been to James instead of Remus. Sure his first instinct is always his boyfriend, and hearing his voice helped even if just for a second. But his brother. How could he choose anything but the way to his brother?
Brother. Brother brother brother brother brother brother brother brother brother brother.
B R O T H E R
What’s his name? Fuck, what is his brother’s name? James told him his boyfriend’s name, didn’t he? He had to have said it at some point. He was raving about him. Which means he’s happy, at least that’s something. His brother is happy. His brother has a whole life. He’s okay. But what’s his name? His brother is okay but he doesn’t even know his name. Why can’t he remember his own brother’s name?
His breathing is heavy now, when did he start breathing again? When did he end up on the floor?
“Sirius, it’s just me. I’ve got you.”
“My brother…” Is all he can say.
He blinks the world back into focus, it’s still disorienting, but he can just make out his cousin and that he’s at home. Things are strewn all over the place. Did he do that? Out of habit, he places one hand on the other wrist. Feeling his pulse. Trying to ground himself. He’s not a stranger to this, he knows it’s a panic attack. It’s just been a while since he had one this bad. It’s hard to remember what to do in the moment when it happens.
Breathing starts to come back, easier this time. Now that he can feel his pulse and it’s not racing, he lightly traces along his arm with his nails. Over the old scars. It keeps him present. It helps him think.
“He wrote these, that’s what you were saying isn’t it?” Andromeda takes some of his weight, allowing him to lean and rest.
“Yeah, he did.” Sirius confirms. His thoughts swirl for what else to say, but only one other thing matters. A tear blooms in the corner of his eye. “He– he got out.”
Not that he’s just within reach. Not that Sirius could go see him right now if only he knew where James lives. Those are great things and he really wants to run right now. When he has more energy, when the panic subsides. In the grand scheme of things though, it only matters that his brother is okay. His brother left their parents and made a life for himself. A good one.
Without Sirius. Without his help, without reaching out to find him, without him. The depths of his brain remind him of that. It reminds him of what will be in his book. The one he hasn’t read yet.
That can’t be what matters. He can’t put so much weight in how it happened. It’s good that it happened regardless of how. Sirius doesn’t get to be selfish about this, but he can’t help it. His brother could have come to him, he thought that was obvious. That he would help him no matter what, no matter how long it had been.
He just wants to see him. See for himself that he’s okay.
Sometime between Andromeda sitting on the floor with him and when the sun starts to rise again, he starts laughing. Full bodied and uncontrollable fit of laughter. Laughing like he never has before, like he may never laugh again once he stops. He doesn’t want to stop. The laughing feels better than the pain stabbing at his chest. The laughter feels cathartic.
He doesn’t know the last time he laughed like this. He does laugh hard and often, this isn’t to say he doesn’t. Laughter is a regular part of his life. His boyfriend makes him laugh nearly every day and his friends almost as much. In fact it’s quite easy to get a laugh out of him, even a funny face can get him. It’s a childlike laughter, it heals a piece of him most days.
This is different though. This is a bit manic, but still calm. A contradiction. He’s losing it. Laughing at nothing. Andromeda hasn’t said anything in a while, possibly hours. She may even be asleep. If the sun is coming back up, where is Remus? He should be back by now, except he isn’t. He should have been back hours and hours ago.
Surely there’s a message waiting for him when he finds his phone again, which only makes him laugh even more. Everything is utterly hilarious it seems. His brother has a life and his brother wrote books about them and his brother has a boyfriend. Yet Sirius doesn’t even know his brother’s name. Meanwhile his boyfriend hasn’t come home in at least 12 hours, maybe even longer.
He should be more worried about that, though he isn’t. Not really.
Next to him his cousin stirs but just moves to get more comfortable. She’s asleep peacefully, not panicked like him. She always did have her head on straighter than the rest of them. He leaves her be, he has to get out. He doesn’t have any calm and sanity left in him to just sit around waiting for her to wake or for Remus to return.
Where does he go now? He can’t just take off without his phone. This makes him laugh again. In the end it takes him just a minute to find his phone, which seemed to be impossible last night. Andromeda can stay here to sleep, he has to leave. He has to go to him. Wherever he is.
Hand on the door knob, his phone rings in his other hand.
“Hello?”
“Oh thank God. Sirius, are you alright? I’ve been calling and texting…”
“I’m– Yeah I’m alright. Are you? You never came home last night.” Relief floods him at the same time as annoyance.
“Something came up I had to… I’ll explain later, okay? I promise.” There’s no reason he shouldn’t trust Remus on this, but he still doesn’t like being out of the know.
“Alright, fine. Later. Are you coming home now?”
Through the phone he sighs, and Sirius can picture his eyes scrunching and one hand coming up to massage his temple. He’s stressed. “Not yet, I’m helping someone with something. As soon as I’m done though. Is Andromeda still with you?”
“She’s asleep on the couch.”
It’s not that he wants to lie to Remus, he doesn’t. But if he tells him that he’s about to rush out of the flat to go find his brother, that might not go that well. He would advise against it. This wouldn’t be the right way to do it, and part of him knows that. He can recognise his own stupidity most of the time. That doesn’t change the tug in his chest drawing him to… Regulus . His name hits him from the depths of his memory. James called him Regulus.
He got out of that house and away from their parents, but he still picked a star. Of course he did. It wouldn’t be their family if he didn’t. A piece of the Black family that follows all of them. They can’t get away from that. The sky reminds them of it every night. The stars are always there and shining. They are bound together through the stars. Just last night even, both Sirius and Regulus were visible in the sky. He wasn’t looking for the Leo constellation, but he knows it was there. It’s always out in the middle of the night in November.
“Good. I love you, I’ll text you when I think I’ll be back.”
Something sounds off in his voice. Sirius doesn’t like it, but he has his own plans. He’ll deal with this after.
“I love you, I’ll see you later.”
He clicks his phone off and lets his feet carry him out the door. He doesn’t know where he could go to find Regulus, or even James. If only it were that easy. Sirius is running on very little sleep, if any at all. He might have dozed off for a bit during the night, but that feels unlikely. He was wired. Caffeine and adrenaline coursing through him.
There’s no point thinking right now. Trying to make sense of everything would be overwhelming. There is time for that later. Once he sees his brother maybe. That will help everything come together. Eight years of nothing, not knowing if his brother was okay or still trapped or even alive. Eight years without seeing anyone in his family and so much has changed since that eight year anniversary. No wonder his head is spinning.
His feet manage to get him outside and down the street before he becomes aware again. He shoves his phone in his pocket and continues walking. The air is crisp reminding him that it’s turning to winter. Maybe a heavier coat would have been smart. Sirius doesn’t think about which way he’s walking, he just does.
Time ceases, everything around him is still. He walks and walks and nothing gets in his way. At every street crossing he is able to go without cars coming at him. He doesn’t look up even once, just staring through the blur ahead and walking. He’s being pulled to wherever he is going and there is no use in fighting it. Maybe he instinctively knows where his brother is. Knowing how close, how connected they are. That could just have reattached the string that used to tether them.
It’s been years that Remus has known James. Has he always been just a step away from his brother? All this time. They just didn’t know, but if they did would Regulus have wanted him to reach out? Would it have been welcome? Sirius would have been overjoyed. He wishes he had known.
Though he was the one to leave him behind. He left him alone.
But he made it out. He made a life for himself.
Regulus is successful, does he even need his brother anymore? Does he even want him? The faint shining light in his mind, opposite to how it dimmed his heart earlier, are the books. When he left home he could have left it all behind, he could have severed all ties to the family and erased as much as he could from memory. Like the rest of them, he could have tucked it all neatly away in his mind. But he didn’t, he made something out of it.
So there must be a part of him that still has love for Sirius. Love for him and their cousins. The words on those pages are written with love, with care, with hurt. The first three are. The fourth remains unopened for now, he’ll read it later. Or maybe he won’t once he sees Regulus. There would be no need to then, right?
If his brother wants him back in his life, then it wouldn’t make a difference if his book is written with love or hate.
It feels like he walks for hours. His feet start to hurt and the ringing in his ears is back. His throat is dry. His hair is all over the place, wind having taken its toll. Sirius doesn’t know his destination, he doesn’t know how much further he will be pulled right now, but he needs a break. There is a park with some benches up ahead and he takes this as a sign to rest. Just for a minute. Just to catch his breath.
As soon as he sits, he feels the effects of the night and morning. Everything hurts just a bit. His head is pounding and his chest is tight. Not to mention the blisters forming on his feet. That’s what he gets for walking without direction. It was foolish to leave the house or to zone out and hope he landed wherever his brother is right now.
Slowly catching his breath he looks around. It’s all familiar, he knows this place. Across the street, just through a few trees is 12 Grimmauld Place.
Of course this is where he ended up. He hasn’t been here in a while. It’s not as if he frequents his old house, the house that still haunts him. But he’s walked by a few times over the years. Unintentionally mostly, just like now.
This is the last place he ever saw his brother, it’s no surprise he would come here. There’s no way Regulus is actually lurking around here. He, like the rest of them, likely got away and never looked back. Living elsewhere in the city, avoiding Islington as much as possible. Which is easy enough to do when the memories of childhood are thick in the air everywhere here. He could feel it as soon as he entered the area, he just wasn’t paying attention.
He lets himself rest on the bench. Avoiding eye contact with the house. As if it’s a living breathing place. Sirius used to think it was. Sometimes he still does. That’s how houses are haunted, not by ghosts. To him it was the house. Leaving and feeling almost completely free of it confirmed that. The ghosts could have followed him, but the house stays right here. The memories are stronger here, his chest won’t give out.
Eventually he can’t look away. He has to see it, he has to face it. Part of him wonders if anyone is home. If his parents are still there. If they are alive, they are. There is nothing that could get Walburga to abandon that house. So he doesn’t dare go closer.
He’s not going to find Regulus here. It’s hard still to pull himself away. Like just being within reach of the house allowed the claws to sink back into him. If he doesn’t run now, will he be stuck again? Just the mere thought of that sends a rush through him and he’s back on his feet. Sirius ignores the vibration of his phone and starts to walk again. Not the direction he came from, but past the old house.
He ends up walking along the canal that runs between Islington and Camden. With less urgency. It’s more akin to a stroll. No destination in mind, almost on autopilot. It’s a walk he’s done many times. He used to come out here when he snuck out of the house and needed some air. It’s not far and it’s not right out in the open. The water is calming.
Coming here at night when he could see the stars and when the moonlight would reflect in the water was always exactly what he needed. It used to be something he did on his own, but eventually Regulus would join him. Getting both of them out of the house unseen was harder. Unless their cousins were in on it too. But they made do and they found a spot along the water that they could hide out in until they felt okay enough to go back. It’s along a path down at the water, a bridge they could sit under, though he opts to stay up now.
Sirius walks past there, lingering for a beat, but keeps going. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out and he should find his way home. If he keeps walking this direction he will be able to take the tube home, which sounds much nicer to his feet than walking. Maybe Remus will even be home. It occurs to him that he also left his cousin there sleeping. At least one of the calls he’s ignored is from Andy, but she will understand.
From the opposite direction, Remus materialises. Walking up to their building at exactly the same time. How is he just getting back? Whatever happened is sure to be a good story. Especially considering that Sirius was having quite the night too.
Remus would never just ignore him for something else if it wasn’t important. He wouldn’t leave Sirius to deal with anything, let alone nearly finding his brother, without reason. Sure he had Andy, but he wanted Remus too. Remus could help make sense of it. He knows James, he’s even closer to this.
“You’re just getting home?” He poses the question, giving him the chance to explain before he spirals, before his boyfriend can ask him the same thing.
He can feel the anxiety bubbling up in his throat. Their relationship has never been like this, he implicitly trusts Remus. Something isn’t right. Remus is keeping something from him. He’s ready to turn back around and walk away without talking.
But his phone is surely about to die and the fourth book is upstairs. Sirius is starting to think more clearly, at least compared to last night. He can think. Before he couldn’t. It’s all so messy. He needs to see Regulus. Ideally right now, that would make this easier. That would send his anxiety running. Nothing calms him like his brother. Nothing works him up like his family.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“What happened? What aren’t you telling me? I needed you.” Sirius’ voice cracks under the weight of everything. “I just- I found out my brother has been publishing books about our lives and that he’s dating your friend and that his name is Regulus and that he’s so close I could–”
Arms envelope him and he’s guided inside. “I know sweetheart. It’s a lot. I’m here now.” His hand comes up to tangle in his hair as the other wipes a tear from his cheek.
Sobs fight their way out of him and he nearly crumbles before getting in their flat. Remus holds him up and guides him. The only reason he is standing. The anger is gone, overtaken entirely by the last twenty four hours. Everything changed. His breathing is uneven as he tries to say more. Explain more. He can’t, he no longer knows what he’s saying.
“I’ve got you. It’s okay Sirius. You’ll see him soon. Just breathe love.” Remus says anything he can to get through to him.
He doesn’t want to hear any of it. He just wants his brother.
“I need to talk to him. Regulus, I need him. I need to tell him I’m sorry.” He stammers.
It’s a good thing that Remus is cradling him now, holding him together. It’s a good thing that he is in his boyfriend’s arms and safe at home. It’s a good thing Remus doesn’t tell him everything he knows right now. It’s a good thing there’s nothing in his reach that he could use to hurt himself.
That doesn’t stop the pain or the guttural sob though.
“You can’t right now, I’m sorry. He doesn’t want to see you.”