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“It’s happened again, James.”
James pressed the phone further into his face, so hard it hurt his ear.
“Where is he?”
“Hospital. St Mary’s again. They won’t let me in to see him or tell me anything because I’m not fucking family, apparently.”
James heard a loud bang down the phone. Fist meeting wall, he imagined. His already too-fast heartbeat quickened further still.
Oh, you’re spiralling again, the moment right before it ends, you’re most afraid of.
“Remus,” James said. “Try and… Just try to take it easy. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
“You driving?”
“Yeah.”
“Drive safe. Text me when you’re outside and I’ll come meet you.”
“Alright, mate,” James sighed down the phone before hanging up.
He walked over to the mirror in his hallway, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. This was the second time this year. He couldn’t believe it, he’d thought they’d gotten past this. He’d thought… well. He’d thought he’d been doing better. It wasn’t an easy thing to get over. No quick fix, James knew that. He knew that so well, especially witnessing it all play out from his front-row seat.
Running a hand through his hair quickly, he grabbed his keys from the entry table and left his flat, getting into his car and making the drive he no longer needed directions for. He knew it all too well, like the back of his hand.
I’ll drive, I’ll drive… all night.
The only consolation came in knowing he was still alive. This time. If not, if he’d managed to go all the way, Remus would’ve said. James didn’t know how Remus would manage to get those words out exactly, but he’d have found a way.
He remembered being on the other end of that conversation, so, so many times. Having to tell Remus that the love of Remus’ life had tried to bring it all to a crashing end haunted James to this day. He’d had to do it twice already. There was nothing that quite matched the feeling of delivering bad news like that. Life-altering news. It was like feeling every fear you’ve ever encountered and matching it with all the stomach bugs in the world. Like walking down a street so dark, you didn’t know if morning would ever come.
He imagined that must be a tiny bit comparable to how Sirius felt, in the moments he made the decisions he made.
James shook the thoughts from his head, and tried to focus on driving. He was speeding, carrying on with his deep breathing as he rushed down the small, winding back roads he’d come to know so well.
Eventually, after far too much swearing at slow drivers on his way, he made it to the hospital car park, which was, as always, packed.
Hospitals always made James feel uneasy. He supposed that was a fairly natural feeling, especially for those who didn’t have to step foot in one too often. They were ominous and luminous all at once, too bright, as though covering up the darkest things the world has to offer. Which, he guessed, they were, sort of. They did.
But, as a self-proclaimed optimist, James had always thought of hospitals as good places for patients to be. The best place, in fact. Because when something was wrong, you had to go somewhere with the people who knew how to fix you up.
But in recent years, James realised that, actually, the hard parts about hospitals weren’t just for the patients. If anything, if they were lucky, they’d be treated so kindly that their trip was as stress-free as possible. Hopefully pain-free too.
But the relatives. The loved ones.
The ones left behind.
They’re the ones who feel it the most. They’re the ones who become all too acquainted with that feeling of unease climbing from their stomach, up into their throats. Who know the feeling of looking at bright yellow hospital lights, to the dull glow of a phone or watch face, to their shoes, to the doors. And repeat.
Waiting room, no place to stand
James could tell you there were twenty-six chairs in the A&E waiting room without having to look. He could tell you that the reception desk had three bottles of hand sanitiser on there at all times, one of which was always half empty. He knew the exact number of steps it took to get from the seating area to the bathrooms, and back again. (Seventy-three, if you were wondering).
The car park was a nightmare, and James always forgot to get a fucking ticket when he pulled in, every single time. So he parked his car somewhere miles away from the entrance, as expected, and had to go through the whole ordeal of going back to the ticket machine, explaining to the robotic voice of the parking attendant on the other side of it that he forgot his ticket, traipsing to the office and then to his car to display it in the windscreen.
After the whole palaver was dealt with, he brought his phone out and shot off a text to Remus to let him know he was nearing the entrance.
Instead of buzzing with a text, his phone began to ring, Remus’ name flashing up on the screen, so James answered immediately.
“Remus?”
“James, meet me at the smoking area off to the right of the front doors.”
“I wanna go in and–”
“Meet me there first.”
Remus hung up, leaving James blinking at his phone, wondering what that had been about. But Remus knew not to get in between James and that hospital room at a time like this, he wouldn’t fuck around with something so important. So it wasn’t a hard decision to agree, and change course slightly off in the right direction.
He got there and saw Remus already standing, cigarette in his hand, inhaling deeply and running his hand down over his face.
“Hey, what’s–”
“It’s bad, James,” Remus said immediately. Now that he was closer, James could see Remus had been crying. The dark circles beneath his eyes were darker than usual, his skin pale. He looked like he wasn’t fully there. The light behind his eyes had gone almost completely. James looked him up and down and realised the hand holding his cigarette was shaking too.
His greatest fears and wringing hands, and the loudest silence
James reached a hand out and grabbed Remus by the shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“Reg.”
“What?” James baulked, feeling like he might throw up. “What about him?”
“He’s dead. Sirius’ cousin Andy called this morning to break the news before it hit the papers.”
“Why would it hit the papers?” James asked, brain not able to compute what Remus was saying.
“You know what that lot are like. Always in the financial fucking sections of whatever bullshit magazines. Can’t escape the Black family,” Remus spat out bitterly, venom dripping from his tongue. James flinched, that tone didn’t suit Remus at all. He wasn’t used to it.
“What happened to Regulus?”
James hadn’t known Reg particularly well. But from what he did know, the younger of the Black brothers remained Sirius’ unlikely ally until the end. They didn’t speak much, being that Regulus was a good few years younger than Sirius, he’d not been able to make it out from under Orion and Walburga’s grasp. But when they did, it was always positive.
Sirius had stopped trying to get Reg to leave that house two years ago, after many, many failed goes. That’s when his hospital visits had begun. There had been four in total, well, five now.
“You’re not gonna–” Remus started, voice hoarse. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut furiously. “You’re not gonna fucking believe it.”
James felt the blood leave his face. He needed to grab on to something, he reached blindly behind him until he found a cold, metal railing, sectioning off the smoking section. He held onto it tightly, willing the pain and cold to sink in and ground him, to help him feel more upright and stable.
“He didn’t?”
Remus’ face contorted into something that made him look like an animal in distress.
“How?” James asked, before quickly adding, “No, don’t tell me.”
Remus just nodded, lighting up another cigarette after flicking the last one away.
“Sirius?”
“He’s not good, James,” Remus shook his head again. “He’s a sneaky fuck, I’ll tell you that much. I left him for not even five minutes, he went into the bathroom right when I was on the phone to my mum, he picked his fucking moment.”
James sighed. “It’s not your fault.”
“I should’ve known, after that fucking news, I should’ve kno–”
“It’s not your fault,” James pulled himself from the railing and reached out towards Remus again. “It’s not his fault, but it’s not yours either. Once he gets something in his head, you know what he’s like. We just need…”
“Need what, James? What do we need?” Remus almost shouted, but he didn’t look angry. He looked desperate.
James would’ve preferred anger. He could deal with anger. You calm someone down when they’re angry, tell them things to placate them, get them from one moment to the next.
But desperation? Despair? James didn’t have a fucking clue.
“I don’t know. He needs more help than we can give, Remus.”
“We can’t.”
“I’m not saying th–”
“We can’t put him into one of those places. He won’t go, he’ll really find a way to get out of it then, and besides, we’re not family ,” Remus spat that last word. “We can’t send him off anywhere involuntarily. Not that I would, anyway. Those places are fucked, evil.”
James shut his eyes. “Does Andy know? Have you spoken to her?”
“Nah,” Remus shook his head. “I haven’t told anyone, just you. I thought you should be here and decide who to tell.”
James shot a hand up to his forehead. “Fuck, I need to tell Lily.”
Remus winced. “She’s at her parents, right? Down in Surrey?”
“Yeah,” James breathed. “And it’s late, fuck. I’ll tell her tomorrow. Maybe we’ll have some more information from the doctors or whoever before then so I don’t have to just give her shit news.”
“I don’t see where the silver lining is in this, James.”
James looked up at Remus. “He’s alive,” he said finally. “That’s something.”
Don’t let this darkness fool you, all lights turned off, can be turned on
*
“I am family.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“The fuck I’m not, he’s been my brother since we were eleven years old, and my parents took him in when he was fourteen. He lived with us for another seven years after that. He comes for Sunday dinners at my parent’s with me every week. We go on holiday together, we work together. He’s gonna be my best man, he’s my emergency fucking contact– what else constitutes family if not any of those, hm?”
James knew he was being unfair, emotionally manipulative, even. But it's such a stupid, ridiculous, pointless fucking rule in the first place.
Some people’s families aren’t made up of blood and DNA similarities. Last names don’t come into it.
The nurse with the clipboard in her hands and an unamused expression on her face leaned in closer to James.
“Keep your voice down,” she hissed. “There are patients sleeping.”
“Well–”
“What did you say your name was?” She interrupted.
James blinked. “James. Er, Potter. James Potter. And that’s Remus Lupin. His boyfriend .” He pointed at Remus with his thumb.
Remus’ expression was completely closed off and numb. He’d obviously already had this conversation.
“Well, James. We’ve tried to contact his next of kin, but there’s been no answer–”
“Who was it?” Remus growled out. “Regulus Black?”
The nurse checked the clipboard again, looking back at Remus suspiciously. “Yes, that’s right–”
“Well, he’s dead, so there’s not going to be anyone answering that line. I hope.”
James shoots Remus a look, but he’s still wearing that same, deadpan expression on his face. He looks back at the nurse.
“Sorry. We just got the news today,” he apologised.
She looked between the two of them, and understanding seemed to dawn.
“Okay. Fine. You can go in, but keep it quiet, don’t disturb anyone. He’s stable, and a little woozy but if he’s awake he’ll be able to speak to you.”
She began to lead the two of them through some doors, different ones to the last time, James noticed, and through a corridor. James looked over at Remus and saw he’d gone even paler, so reached out and held his hand as they followed the nurse.
They came to a stop outside a private room, and she paused at the door, turning back towards them before they barrelled in. “Listen, he’s got a lot of tubes in and some hefty bandages on his wrists. He’s pale, and looks very tired. So just, don’t be alarmed, and take it easy when you’re in there, please.”
Remus went to speak but James held his hand tighter, giving it a quick squeeze, while nodding his head at the nurse.
She nodded back, then stepped aside, leaving the door free for the two men to walk in.
James looked at Remus, took a deep breath, then tilted his head towards the door. Remus took the hint, and led the way.
*
Growing up with someone like Sirius Black was akin to being constantly exposed to the brightest light in every room, at all times.
James was always blown away by his charisma, he seemed to have it by the bucketload. Everywhere they went together, and they were always together, people were drawn to Sirius like nothing James had ever seen. Even when they were kids, he was the centre of attention from the minute he stepped outside of his family’s front door. It was as though he’d taken on a different personality entirely, finally able to become himself . He was brighter than sunshine and no one would dare try to temper it down, not that they could.
If anyone so much as breathed too hard in the direction of Sirius, so much as threatened to dim his light, James would have ripped them limb from limb.
Sirius was kind, hilarious, mischievous and had a wild streak that made the competitive parts of James positively thrum every time they hatched a plan. But more than that, he had a capacity for love larger than anything James had ever seen. And he’d always thought himself a bit of an expert in that, coming from the family he did.
Sirius was greedy for it, though. He drank in any love shown to him like he’d been dying of thirst, making grabby hands at the person for more and more and more. He gave it back tenfold, though. James had never wanted for any affection growing up, but when Sirius had decided that the two of them were to be brothers, he realised that there was an entirely undiscovered level of love capable by humans that he’d never been aware of.
The thing about bright lights though, is that they tend to burn too hot sometimes. And Sirius had always been the epitome of that.
His moods came in swings, and they were violent and ruthless, knocking into anyone who got in their way. Whether he was furious, desperate or just… broken, the force of Sirius’ emotions was too much for even him to handle.
So James had done his best to keep them under control. To ensure that the situations they were in, where he could, were controlled just enough so that Sirius wouldn’t spin frantically into the low days. And Sirius tried, too. He was self-aware enough to know when it was happening, he could usually spot it a mile off, before James could.
But sometimes, it took other people too long to realise that the pendulum had swung from good to bad, light to dark, and they got the wind knocked out of them. They got burned.
Mostly, though, Sirius was cruellest to himself. James supposed that when all you’re shown growing up is cruelty, it’s too easy to revert back to it, to take it in and act it upon yourself. Love and cruelty often have a lot of overlap. Sirius always seemed to find them hard to distinguish between.
When he’d shown up on James’ doorstep as a teenager, he’d been inconsolable. That was the first night he tried to end it all. He was distraught, James hadn’t known anyone’s face could look like that before. Beneath the bruising and the bleeding, he looked simultaneously in more pain than anyone should ever be able to feel, while also looking completely dead, void of any signs of life.
It was the most disturbing thing James had ever witnessed. That was until he walked into his bedroom to find Sirius on the floor, after raiding the medicine cabinet.
Luckily, James’ mum was not only the kindest woman alive, she was also a nurse, and immediately went into action, knowing exactly what to do.
After the second time it happened a couple of years later, she did the same again.
“We need to get him help, love,” She’d said to James sadly. “He needs more than what he’s getting here. We’ll pay, if it’s a case of money. We can drop him off to appointments, whatever it takes.”
James had reluctantly agreed that Sirius did need professional help.
So Sirius had gone to regular therapy appointments until he turned twenty-one, when he insisted that he was fine, he felt more stable and now he was an adult, a proper adult, and no one could tell him what to do.
Which James had thought ridiculous, anyway, because for as long as he’d known him, no one had ever been able to tell Sirius Black a thing.
After that, after the next few attempts at bringing his pain to an end, he’d begged James not to tell his parents. Promised each time would be the last. And, in fairness, before this one, there hadn’t been any sign of it for a few years. James had truly thought Sirius had come out the other end of it. And maybe he had, until Regulus set it all off again.
In a way, James hated Regulus. When Sirius had run away, he’d begged him to come with him. And James’ family would’ve taken the youngest Black brother in in a heartbeat. But Reg had been adamant. So because of that, a little bit of Sirius remained in that house. The part he held in his heart, in his soul. It was a guilt that he carried with him wherever he went.
James quietly dragged a chair from the other side of the room over next to the hospital bed, and sat down, head pounding. He watched as Remus did the same on the opposite side, slowly running his fingers through Sirius’ hair, with a love so reverent, so gentle, James felt like an intruder. Slowly, Sirius’ eyes started to open, and he looked over at Remus immediately, always searching for his love in every room.
And just like clockwork, he moved his head around to look for James straight away, like he always did. But he knew Sirius already knew he was there. They had this way of knowing exactly where the other was, at all times, without asking. It was like there was a pair of spotlights shining down from somewhere, just on the two of them, like a celestial navigational system guiding one brother to the other.
James just looked at him, watching as tears sprung into Sirius’ lashline and began to fall silently down his face, making his pale skin look even glassier. Making him look even more like something that could break if it was moved too quickly.
“Hello, you,” James spoke softly, just above a whisper. Whether that was because the nurse had told them to be quiet, or because he couldn’t really manage much more than that just now, James wasn’t sure.
“Hi,” Sirius replied, voice scratchy and tired sounding. “Remember your parking ticket this time?”
James smiled. “Nope, course not. Come on, you know me better than that.”
Sirius gave a weak smile. “Does Effie know?”
James shook his head. “Not yet.”
“James–”
“Not now, please?” Remus interrupted. “Let’s not talk about it now. How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” Sirius replied, carefully rubbing his left wrist. “But I think maybe, better?”
“Yeah?” Remus asked, eyes gentle. “You get some sleep?”
“Yeah,” Sirius answered. “Hungry now.”
“I can go find you some food in a bit, if you want?”
They continued talking between themselves, and it struck James then just how angry Remus was, and how well he was keeping it in at that moment. The softer he was with Sirius in instances where he had every right to be angry, usually meant just that. He was livid. He was terrified and livid and most of all he was petrified of showing that to Sirius.
James understood. Even after all their practice, neither of them had quite mastered how to handle a situation like this.
Isn’t that a fucked up thing? To have so much practice. No one should be an expert in suicide.
And yet.
James and Remus were pretty damn close. They’d had a lot of experience, anyway. But even with all of the hospital trips and the bedside conversations, it was clear that neither of them quite had the routine figured out yet.
Hopefully, they never would.
Remus slipped out of the room after a tender kiss to Sirius’ temple, and went in search of snacks.
Sirius turned to look at James again, and James let out a deep sigh.
“So,” he started.
“James,” Sirius replied. “I’m sorry. James, I’m so sorry.”
“I know you are,” James whispered, reaching out to gently touch the bandages on Sirius’ wrist closest to him. “But I don’t know how many times we can keep doing this dance.”
“I know,” Sirius whispered back, a look of quiet horror on his features.
“What’s it gonna take, Sirius? What would you do, if you were me?”
“What do you mean?”
James paused, trying to find words. Which was stupid, because there weren’t any left, really. What could he say that Sirius hadn’t heard before? What could he say that wouldn’t send Sirius down a spiralling path of pain? Neither of those would be helpful.
“I don’t know how to help you.”
“I don’t think you can.”
Tears came, then.
For both of them.
“I’m so sorry about Reg,” James sniffed. “I’m so sorry. It’s not your fault, Sirius. You tried. You tried so fucking hard to get him out of there, you did everything you could, I was there, I saw y–”
“Don’t, James, please ,” Sirius begged. “I can’t.”
“But you already did, Sirius. Look at you? Look at where we are again? How does this help anyone? You can’t help him now, and you couldn’t then. That’s not on you. But look at how it’s left you,” James gestured to their surroundings. “You can’t… I can’t.” He trailed off.
“I wasn’t… I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean–”
“Didn’t mean to what? End up here? Yeah, I’m sure that wasn’t your intention.”
It hung in the air between them, the bitterness, the anger. The disappointment. Palpable, like someone standing in the room with them. Hanging over the two of them.
Sirius didn’t reply.
“What about Remus? What about him, if you go, where do you think that leaves him? You think he’ll have a life worth living without you?”
“He’d be better off.”
“That’s bullshit, don’t fucking say that.”
Sirius closed his mouth with a frown. Then when he spoke again, the softness in his voice had been replaced by a hard, rough edge. “It’s true. Look at this. Who the fuck wants to keep doing this? It’s not fair.”
“And yet,” James shot back. “Here we are again.”
“Well, like you said, this wasn’t what I was aiming for.”
“I don’t know why you’ve got it into your head that he’d be better off without you. Or that any of us would. Maybe it makes you feel less selfish, I don’t kn–”
“Selfish?”
“Yes, Sirius, selfish ,” James spat. “It would fucking kill us. You don’t get to put this on us, as if you’d be doing us some big fucking favour.”
“James, don’t! ” Sirius shouted. “You have no fucking idea what it’s like for me. None. I don’t say half the shit that’s in my head because it’s… it’s…” he gestured around wildly, searching for words. “It’s so fucked , I feel fucked up all the time, broken. Half a person. I don’t know what the fuck else to do.”
“Let us get you help!” James shouted back, just as loudly. “Let’s put an end to this endless fucking cycle, for fuck’s sake, Sirius, I can’t do this anymore.”
“That’s what I was trying to do!” Tears started streaming down Sirius’ pale cheeks. “Don’t you see?”
“Hey, what the fuck?” Remus came running into the room. “What’s going on? Stop!”
James stood up. “I can’t do it anymore, Remus. You try talking some fucking sense into him. I’m out.”
“James, wait,” Remus reached out as he neared him on his way out the door. “Sit down, what happ–”
“Let him go,” Sirius said, still crying. “Let him fucking go.”
James slapped a cheery smile on his face, turning back to face the both of them. “See? It’s best for everyone if I leave, isn’t that what you always say, Sirius? Isn’t that the exact point you were making not five minutes ago, in fact?”
The smile slipped and he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
He regretted it immediately, a pang of guilt for berating Sirius at the worst possible time, not to mention disturbing every other person in the entire ward. But he was so angry he could feel his blood coursing through his veins. He could hear his heartbeat echoing in his ears, like when you stand too close to a speaker in a nightclub or at a concert. His adrenaline was insanely high, he felt numb and everything all at once.
He wanted to kick something, punch something, scratch his eyes out, he didn’t know what. He needed to feel something and make it all go away.
Red, murky mist had descended in front of his eyes and he blindly, somehow made his way out of the hospital, gulping in air when he got outside.
He paid his parking ticket, walked the far too long distance to his car, got in and slammed the door.
Then, he screamed.
He screamed so hard, and so loud, that his throat felt like it was burning, like he was swallowing lava. He screamed with such force that his voice was unrecognisable to his own ears.
Medicate, meditate, swear your soul to Jesus
Throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason
*
“Can we talk?”
“I don’t have a lot to say.”
“Well then,” Remus sighed down the phone. “Can I talk?”
“If you’re going to give me shit for last night, then, no,” James replied. “I’ve already been doing that to myself for the last seven hours, I don’t need it from y–”
“You were right.”
James sat up on his bed. “What?”
Remus sighed again. “You were right, James. I don’t think shouting at him was the right way to go, especially when you shouted, but you were right. He told me what you said, and we can’t keep doing this. It’s becoming too easy.”
“I thought he was doing so much better, Remus. And then it was like, I dunno, being catapulted back into the past all over again. Last night he looked exactly how he looked the first time. Except bloodier.”
James could practically hear Remus’ wince down the phone, and regretted his words immediately. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t mean to sound flippant. I don’t feel flippant.”
“I know. But,” Remus took a breath. “I think I’m enabling him.”
“What? How?”
“I coddle him. And I didn’t keep enough of an eye on him yesterday,” Remus explained. “I think it was like, wishful thinking or something. That enough time had passed that bad news wouldn’t send him right back into bad habits.”
“There’s no way you could’ve known. It’s not on you.”
“But it’s obvious, isn’t it? He’s gone this long without getting proper help, outside of you and me, and no offence, James, but what the fuck do we know, y’know? We weren’t built for this.”
“No, we weren’t,” James agreed. “I don’t think you’re enabling him. I know you’re scared shitless to say too much. You don’t wanna send him over the edge. I just don’t think either of us are doing him any good right now.”
“I spoke to Andy,” Remus offered.
“Yeah?”
“She says she knows a really good psychiatrist. One that she went to, when she left.”
“Cheap, I bet?”
Remus laughed down the phone. “Oh, I’m sure. But she offered to pay.”
“Did she?”
“Mm,” Remus hummed. “I haven’t told him yet. He wants to see you.”
James stayed silent. “I don’t know if I can.”
James could practically hear Remus nodding down the phone. Could see it so clearly, without needing to be in the same room.
“I told Lily, by the way.”
“Yeah,” Remus answered. “She called us last night. Said you hadn’t returned her phone calls.”
“I didn’t really feel like speaking to anyone when I left. Was in a bit of a state, if I’m honest.”
“James,” Remus said quietly. “Come over today? He’s getting discharged in an hour, we’ll be home by lunchtime.”
“To do what, though? Sit and have the world’s most awkward cup of tea while he pretends he’s not furious and I’m not… I don’t even have words. I don’t even know what I am.”
“I mean, you’re going to be doing that anyway, aren’t you? Might as well do it in the same room. Least maybe then we’ll get somewhere.”
James snorted down the phone. “‘Spose.”
“Have a shower, have some food, and head over here after two.”
“Yes, dad.”
Remus chuckled before ending the call, and James ran a hand through his hair.
He needed to have some sort of a plan in his head before he went there. There was no point going over with yesterday’s exact same words. They were useless and expired already. If there was something he could say that would actually help, it would’ve helped ten years ago. And all the times since.
James was reluctant to even let the thought form fully, even in the privacy of his own mind, but there was always this nagging, rejected feeling that came up. Why wasn’t he enough? Why were he and Remus, and the rest of them, not enough? Why couldn’t they keep him here?
James had spent his whole life never loving another soul as much as he loved Sirius. Or not the same way, at least. It was a love bigger than them. Like, they were supposed to meet. They were supposed to be each other’s.
He didn’t much believe in soulmates. But he believed in them. Whatever they were.
So why wasn’t that enough?
*
He almost looked normal, James thought. Sat there in his black band t-shirt, his jeans and Remus’ blanket shoved over the top of him where he was sitting on the sofa of their living room, Sirius almost looked like his normal self. Just slightly… off. Like, when you accidentally mirror your image in your phone camera, and everything is still you, just not quite how you’re used to.
Plus, the bandages, obviously.
And the face like thunder.
“Come to have another go?” Sirius asked bitterly when James sat down in the armchair opposite.
“Yes, thought we could get another couple rounds in before dinner time, what do you reckon?” James replied sweetly.
Despite himself, Sirius smirked a little, rolling his eyes. “What’s wrong with your voice?”
“Oh, nothing, screaming in your car for half an hour tends to give the old vocal cords a good bit of practise, that’s all,” James said. “Thought I’d audition for a metal band, not quite sure I’ve got what it takes, though.”
“Maybe a bit of eyeliner?”
“Yep, that’s what’s missing, you’re right,” James snapped his fingers.
“And, well, there is that small detail of possessing even a smidge of musical talent, of course,” Sirius gave.
“Hey,” James pointed at him. “You’ve heard my Frankie Goes to Hollywood, don’t slander my good name.”
Sirius snorted. “My apologies, maestro.”
“Here,” Remus walked in with a mug of tea, handing it to James. “I’m heading up to shower, I smell like hospital. Do me a favour, don’t maim one another? Or at least wait until I’m back so I can watch?”
“Will do,” Sirius said with a salute.
“Yes, captain,” James mirrored with a salute of his own.
A silence that would usually be comfortable fell between the two of them when Remus went upstairs, but this time it had an undercurrent of unease. James felt, for perhaps the first time in his life, completely at a loss of what to say to Sirius.
“Listen, I–”
“James, I–”
They both stopped at the same time, blinking at one another, then Sirius grinned sheepishly. “You go.”
James took a sip of his tea, then a deep breath. “I’m sorry. For yesterday. I was too hard on you.”
Sirius shook his head. “No, I get it. You weren’t. Well, maybe a bit.”
James snorted, covering his eyes with his free hand.
“But I understand it was a good few years worth of feelings coming up there. I probably deserved it.”
James rolled his eyes. “No, well, I mean, yes, it was a few years of anger and frustration. But you didn’t deserve it. Not then. I’m sorry.”
“ I’m sorry,” Sirius interjected. “Yesterday was fucked up. I’d been doing better. It sent me over the edge, everything about… my brother.”
It stung. It shouldn’t have, but it did.
“I know,” James whispered.
“Which is stupid, I know it’s stupid. We weren’t joined at the hip–”
“No,” James interrupted. “It’s not stupid. He was your family. You loved him. Love him.”
Sirius eyes filled with tears again and he wiped them away furiously. “I just feel like, such a fuck up. All the time, I feel like a fuck up, and then yesterday it was just… too much. I tried so hard with him, James. I tried to get him out of there so many fucking times.”
“You did.”
“It’s like, the last thing I fucked up, you know? The final straw, I suppose. And it’s stupid, but the whole time I was like… how could he do this? Which is so dumb, I know what it was like to be in that house. But he had options. He had a choice to come and be here, with me. But… why wasn’t I enough, James?”
James stayed silent for a moment.
“Funny, that’s what I’ve been asking myself, too.”
Sirius looked at him as though he’d just been slapped. “What?”
“I’m not trying to be a dick, I promise,” James balanced his tea between his thighs and raised his hands in surrender. “But, it’s just weird hearing you say the same thing about Reg that I’ve been asking myself about you for the last ten years.”
Sirius frowned, then looked away, staring out the window.
James’ impulse was to apologise, to take it back and tell Sirius he didn’t mean it how it sounded. But he decided against it, decided to leave it out there. Not to be cruel, or manipulative. But just as a fact, a thing that existed.
“It’s not like that,” Sirius said quietly. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Well then,” James replied, careful to keep his voice at the same volume. “Then I doubt Reg was thinking of it like that either.”
They stayed quiet again after that for a while, in a slightly more comfortable silence than the previous one.
Eventually, Remus came back downstairs in a change of clothes and his fluffy, damp hair looking wild, somehow making him look a bit like a teenager again.
“All limbs still attached, I see. Good. Progress.”
“For now at least,” James replied. “Nice shower?”
“Yeah, I found a bit of stray hospital jelly in my hair, not sure I wanna know how that happened.”
“Delicious,” James returned, eyebrows raised.
Remus went and sat next to Sirius, reaching an easy hand up and putting a strand of dark, black hair behind Sirius’ ear.
“Go on, then. Is this where the intervention happens? Usually, you wait a couple of days, but I like the change of pace,” Sirius said.
Remus looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Intervention? Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Get on with it,” Sirius urged.
Remus sighed, running a hand through his curls, and looked at James. “Well,” he started. He looked back to Sirius. “I spoke to Andy this morning.”
Sirius nodded, biting his lip.
Remus ran through the whole conversation, explaining what Andy had said about the psychiatrist, what treatment would look like, and the whole time Sirius just listened to Remus intently, looking small and scared. James stayed silent, watching Sirius.
He watched, looking for signs of any emotion other than fear. Tried to figure out if Sirius had already written off the idea, like he usually did. But it didn’t seem to be the case. James didn’t dare get his hopes up, though.
Remus talked non-stop for at least thirty minutes, detailing every little thing he could think of, explaining that it was Sirius’ choice and no one would try to force him. “Not even James or I, right James?”
“Right,” James agreed.
Sirius turned to look at him, then.
Remus carried on talking, but Sirius just stared at James, looking into his eyes so intensely that James felt his own eyes start to well up.
They’d always been good at this. Having silent conversations, extending words without speaking, saying the things they couldn’t form into words. Because sometimes, words didn’t do it justice. The feelings, whether it be love, disappointment, whatever.
Sometimes, when you feel so strongly about something, or someone, words would never, ever be enough. So you just had to hope that somehow, the other person knew you enough to understand.
To see, and be seen.
To know, and be known.
“So… what do you think?”
Sirius stayed staring at James, brow furrowed, face impossible to read. But James knew. James understood. Something had shifted.
It hadn’t fixed, but it had shifted. And that was a start.
“Alright.”
So, won't you stay, won't you stay, won't you stay with me?
*
1 Year Later
For as long as James had known him, Sirius Black had always been the brightest light in any room.
Somehow, by some miracle, he’d gotten brighter, over the last year.
Not every day had been easy. Not every month had been easy, come to think of it. There had been incredible highs and devastating lows. But the important thing, the bit to remember, is that there had been days. And there had been months.
And life had gone on.
Sirius had carried on.
There had been a couple of times when James worried that he wouldn’t. That old habits would come back to bite them all, tear apart their hard work, Sirius’ hard work more than anyone else’s, but somehow, they’d managed to stay on track mostly.
As part of his therapy, Sirius had been told to write some letters. He’d laughed and called them his almost-suicide notes. Which James hadn’t found remotely funny, until Sirius gave him a shove and said “Oh cheer up, big guy, I wrote yours in pink,” looking so proud of himself that James couldn’t help but crack a reluctant grin.
He’d been tasked with writing letters to say the things that were too hard to speak out loud, too heavy or whatever it was that stopped Sirius from letting the bad thoughts out into the open. The idea was, if he had an outlet for them, for all the feelings and thoughts and words that never made it, perhaps he could start to walk without them sitting on his shoulders, weighing him down.
So, when James received his letter, with a soft smile and a kiss on his forehead from his best friend in the world, he made Sirius a deal.
“I’ll read it on the one year mark.”
“And people say I’m the dramatic one? You love nothing if not a little flare, James Potter, anyone ever tell you that?” Sirius smirked.
James shimmied his shoulders in response, and put the letter in his pocket.
But the time was here, the year mark had hit, and so he sat down at his kitchen table, opened the envelope that had been given to him almost two months prior, and began to read.
James Potter,
How do I start this? Where do I begin with you? Remus’ was easier, you know, I just had to chuck a dirty joke in here and there, but somehow I don’t think that’d work on you.
Remember when we were eleven? And I walked right up to you, shoved you on the shoulder and ruffled your hair? I so badly wanted your attention, I could never quite figure out why.
You turned around, ready to tell off whoever the offending little shit was, you saw me, and stopped.
Your face broke out into the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on a person.l It was far too big for an eleven year old, far too knowing. But you’ve always been like that, haven’t you? Too much, in the most beautiful way.
Somehow, you knew me. We’d never exchanged a word and yet I knew intrinsically, down to my bones, if you will, that we were supposed to be brothers forever, and I knew that you’d know it too, you just had to see me first. So I made sure you did, by the only way I knew how; acting the fool.
You’ve always told me I’m bright. That people are drawn to me, wherever I go. “Charisma by the bucketload” whatever the hell that means - I’m choosing to see it as a compliment, even with the word bucket thrown in there. And maybe you’re right. There’s certainly never a shortage of people around. And somehow, it managed to get Remus to stick around, so I guess I lucked out there.
But if I’m the light, you’re the wiring, James.
You’re what keeps the whole bulb burning.
When we sat in my living room, the day after the last time, the day after you shouted at me in my sick bed (Yes, I will always make you feel guilty for that), and you said what you said, after I said what I said… Hang on, this makes no sense.
I told you I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t enough for Reg to stay. And you looked me in the eye and told me that’s how you felt about me, something inside me broke apart, I think.
Because for me, it was so far opposite to that. You were the only thing keeping me going. And I know now, that that’s not fair. It wasn’t fair on you, or on Remus, or Reg, or on Lily or your parents or anyone else. All of my happiness was placed on all of you. And that made me feel so, so small, and so broken.
And more than that, I felt like a burden. To all of you, but especially to you.
You ever see those animals, when they're backed into a corner and they go all foamy-mouthed and feral-looking? I felt a bit like that, I suppose. I’d started to resent you, how easy it seemed to come for you. Happiness. Normality. Living. Which was crazy, because I’ve never wanted anything but good things for you. I only ever want you to be your happiest self. You deserve the very best this life has to offer, James. And in my mind, I was the worst of it.
You didn’t deserve to be tarred by the darkness that lived in me.
And I know, because you’ve already shouted at me once about this, that it’s not fair to put that on you. (Lovely Sandra the psychiatrist also told me off for that, I’m sure you’ll be thrilled to hear).
Here’s the thing, James, the secret of it all.
Being happy is the goal of everyone collectively, I think. But sometimes, feeling the very opposite of that is a little too seductive to steer clear of.
And when you’re in a self-indulgent mindset, all you want is the bad times and the shit that comes with it, and having people around you trying their best to cheer you up, to help lick your wounds and tie your bandages, it’s easier to want to get as far away from that as possible than it is to let it work. To heal.
I saw how I was dragging you down, and I hated it.
But that day, something snapped. Like I said, something broke, but I think maybe something fixed at the same time.
Because that’s the thing about you, isn’t it? It’s sort of impossible to be miserable around you. For all you say I’m the bright light, you’re endearingly blind to the fact that everything you touch turns to utter sunlight.
Any light you see in me is a reflection from the strobes beaming off of you.
And somehow, somewhere along the way, I forgot how good that feels. But it came crashing back, burning me again with the ferocity of it all, and I realised that I didn’t want to ever feel cold again.
So here’s my promise to you.
I will spend the rest of my life making sure I never take your light for granted again. I’ll never let the darkness that bites at the edges of my skin cause me to forget what it means to be here, with you.
I don’t know if I’d have gotten through this without you. In fact, I know I wouldn’t. I actively tried not to.
They say there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, I never got far enough to make it all the way, thankfully.
But I know now, that my tunnel has a light at both ends.
Don’t tell Remus I called you the light of my life, he’s a jealous thing when he wants to be.
Thank you for being my brother.
Let’s see what mischief we can cause together, shall we? Because, from where I’m standing, our future looks rather bright.
Love,
Sirius