Sirius
Sirius Black was sure of only two things in the world. These beliefs were in tune with religion or magic or love - unwavering and without fault.
1) The Black family were a nasty nasty bunch of people, even the ones who looked sweet and lovely on the outside - especially them.
2) James Potter didn’t have an evil bone in his body. (Not even his wrist bone, which had a small metal plate notched between the joint like an automaton, due to an unfortunate fracture.)
Sirius had never once doubted these truths, not until he ran through the garden, Remus hot on his heels, to find his brother, Regulus, standing on the porch of the summer home. It was a lot like hearing a song you had tried very hard to forget on the radio, or watching the news and realizing your childhood home had burned down, or meeting someone for the first time and discovering they shared the same name as you (this had never happened to Sirius, but he could infer). There was an cruel sense of revelation, a yearning, a blossom of anger towards the universe for delivering such a coincidence. Everything seemed to fall into place, and Sirius hated it.
His face felt hot, and his hands clenched by his sides. Rage, which if you looked closer was actually burning hot fear, bubbled up inside him. The world went blurry in the corners as he stared at his brother, who still hadn’t noticed him - Of course, Regulus never did learn to care about anyone but himself.
“What. The. Fuck?” Sirius said, his voice trembling. Why was Regulus here? Why was he standing on the porch where he and James had made tie-die T-shirts and Monty grilled hot dogs and Effie danced to the old record player in the sun room? This was Sirius’s home, his haven, his world away from Walburga and Orion and every other member of his godforsaken family.
Remus slowed to a stop beside him. He glanced at Sirius blushed face and said, revelation licking his teeth: “James didn’t tell you.”
And with that, every belief Sirius had ever held high crumbled to the ground. If this was James’s doing, if he was the one that brought Regulus here, then number 2) was unfortunately misplaced. Anyone who knew Sirius knew he hated his family, but only Remus, James, and Peter knew the extent in which he feared them as well. This act was cruel, and it was evil, and Sirius felt the iron taste of betrayal in his mouth. In addition, if Sirius believed number 1) to be true, then why did he feel such a sense of relief to see his brother okay? He was so disgustingly thankful that Regulus had all his fingers and toes. That even though he looked tired, he was still the sweet faced boy Sirius remembered. Despite all the years spent ripping out, vein by vein, his connection to his family, Sirius’s heart still threatened with the memory of it all. He wanted to glimpse the good moments weaved in with the bad.
I should know better.
“I’m going to bloody kill him.” Sirius didn’t know who he was going to kill - James or Regulus or himself - but he was always the type of person who started things they couldn’t finish. He would dig the grave, but not be able to bury the body.
Regardless of the exaggeration Remus scowled slightly, reaching forward to stop or embrace. Sirius shook him off, walking forward to the house.
“Sirius, Come on. James’s only wanted-”
“James only wanted what?!” Sirius snarled, taking the back steps two at a time. He felt Remus right behind him, his fingers brushing against the back of his arm. “To ruin everything? Well then, he fucking succeeded.”
He was yelling then, but everything sounded muffled in his ears. Remus stepped in front of him, hands grabbing his shoulders. Sirius tried to shove him away, but the other boy was always stronger than him.
“Pads…”
The use of the childhood nickname was probably intend to sooth him, remind him of all the years spent in harmony, but instead it only fueled the fire. It only made him think of everything he was on the verge of loosing.
“Jesus. You were in on it. You knew he was going to do this?!”
“I thought he fucking told you!” Remus jerked back as if being struck.
“Even if he told me, on which bloody planet would I agree to it. I thought… I thought you all knew me better than this.”
Remus’s features hardened, like doors closing behind his eyes. He let his arms drop.
“Fine, But before you burn this whole place to the ground, maybe you should consider that Regulus deserves the same chances you got? That James can help both of you?”
“Oh, fuck you!” Sirius snapped, nails digging into his palms. “Regulus is my parents prize and joy, their goddamn minion-”
“Sirius?”
Everything froze. Sirius swallowed and glanced at the open door. Regulus stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame, face blank. It was like looking in a mirror; his hair was the same curled black, their eyes matching shades of blue. The only noticeable difference was that where Sirius was tanned from days in the sun, Regulus was pale, almost anemic.
The last time the Black brothers had stood this close it was in Sirius’s bedroom, the day he left. Sirius was fifteen, with no tattoos or any sense of the world outside his parents circle. He was shoving whatever clean clothes he had in a backpack, not even bothering with a toothbrush or socks. Regulus, fourteen and not even on the other side of puberty yet, was begging him to say, grabbing onto his arm to try to stop him from going. He failed of course, because Sirius was here, and Regulus was worlds away.
“Hey, Reg, whats all the screaming for-” James said, coming up behind Regulus. When he saw Sirius, he frowned, as if he had been expecting this fight for a long time. Sirius shook off any regret or nostalgia, remembering why he was angry in the first place.
Sirius thrusted out a hand to point at Regulus. “What the fuck were you thinking, bringing him here?”
James walked out onto the porch, hands outstretched as if calming a dog.
But Sirius couldn’t stop, the words had broken the dam. “Do you think its funny? Some little prank? Why, why, would you even begin to - You know what they did to me!”
“Sirius. Stop.”
“What? You get to stick your nose in my business and I can’t be pissed about it?”
“You can be as pissed as you want, but whatever vendetta you have against your parents, it isn’t Reg’s fault,” James said, jaw twitching.
“Reg? Huh. Well aren’t you two so chummy.”
Regulus stepped backward, his face aghast. “I think I should go.”
“No!” James said.
Sirius flinched back, the tone of James’s voice startling him. He wanted to break something.
“Wow.” Sirius snapped, “You know what they call this in the movies, James? Betrayal.”
James shook his head, rubbing his forehead. “You’re being selfish, Sirius.”
“And you’re being a prick.”
“He’s just here for the summer, okay?”
“The whole summer? Do my parents know about this?”
“It doesn’t matter,” James said, “He’s staying.”
Sirius shrugged, but he had to make himself preform the motion. “Well, then. I guess I’m going.”
James scoffed and Sirius turned away: it hurt worse than a broken bone.
***
It was only after storming away, getting in James’s car, and sobbing for five minutes that Sirius realized he didn’t actually have a license and was therefore stranded. He knocked his head lightly into the steering wheel, rubbing snot all over the leather. After a fight or a cry everything often seemed very small to Sirius, as if he was in an airplane looking down. He easily went cold, numb, waiting. It was a talent, in a strange fashion, the way he could force himself to forget any emotion he had ever felt, and pretend he didn’t really exist at all.
Night was falling outside the cocoon of the car, the sun dropping behind the trees, painting everything in shades of red; fireflies glinted in the garden, like small stars. He wondered if Monty would light the fire pit without him. That was the fear, wasn’t it? That Regulus, who had so swiftly became his parents favorite, would also become the Potters - that whatever pull his younger brother possessed would tug James and the life he had granted Sirius away, stranding him on the shore.
The knock on the window made Sirius jerk, slamming his head into the ceiling. The sudden sound cracked the ice of his mindless state like a pick. The window was dark, reflecting Sirius’s tear blotched face back on him, but he knew it was Remus; James’s had too much pride to run after him, and Regulus had too much shame.
Remus’s hand waved and motioned for the window to be rolled down. Sirius obliged. The scent of the sea and gasoline drifted into the cab, and Remus’s naturally studious look blinked back at him. He had a three scars on his face: a thin one on his cheek, another across his nose bridge, and small gash below his lower lip. They were a product of a car crash when Remus was young and he was deeply insecure about it. Regardless, Sirius couldn’t pull his eyes away from them, wondering how proof of such obvious destruction only highlighted the beauty Remus possessed.
“Stop staring at me and move over,” Remus said, eyebrows furrowing. Sirius stuck up the bird, purposely moving closer to the door, head poking out of the car into the night.
“Like this?” Sirius asked, smirking.
“You are an absolute tosser.”
“Hey!” Sirius said, sliding across the seat to the passenger side. “You can’t be mean to me right now, I’m going through some stuff.”
Remus opened the door, folding his long frame behind the steering wheel. He played with the keys for a moment, the jangling loud in their own private universe.
“Maybe you should just give him a chance. Your brother, I mean.”
“I think I’d rather slam my prick in a car door.”
Remus made a face. “That’s so vulgar.”
“This situation is vulgar.”
“We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”
Sirius rubbed at his collar bone, trying to ease the ache blossoming despite it not being a physical pain. He was slowly coming back to himself: feeling more like an owner of his body than simply a visitor. Remus often had that effect on him.
“Could we just drive somewhere?” Sirius asked, his voice hoarse from the crying.
Remus held up the keys and shook them in answer. While he slid them into the ignition and backed out of the driveway, Sirius popped a CD into the player. James had mountains of them in the glove department. They had spent so many hours walking around thrift stores and record shops looking for them, fingers gliding over the plastic cases, itching to pop them into the stereo.
Sirius knew that he would forgive James, had always known in a way. It wasn’t in his programming to be angry with the other boy. When he returned to the summer home he would force himself to accept Regulus sitting across the table from him, sleeping down the hall from him, existing within his thimble sized world - he would try to forget all the nights he had spent trying to remove Regulus from himself, splinter by splinter. But at the moment, music streaming out of the speakers and Remus drumming his fingers on the wheel, there was nothing awaiting him. Not James, not Regulus, not the different masks he wore.
Remus looked over at him, frowning in a way that looked like a secret smile. In the distance, through the trees, the moon was a full bowl. Somewhere, Sirius was merely a boy, tucking himself into bed, leaving the light on.