Chapter Text
The London Underground in a quiet state is an unusual sight. Sirius would know, he travels through it at least three times a day. To and from work, to and from the pub, to and from James and Lily. Although tonight he has no final destination and instead finds himself sat on a rusty bench with a vodka bottle on his left. The bottle is half-empty, which means that if anyone saw him right now they’d see what a wreck he is. But he’s not sober enough to care about that right now, and there’s no one here.
He remembers shouting, doors slamming, glasses shattering, rapid knocks on his door. The details are a blur by now, but the vague memories he has are plenty enough. He fumbles through his pockets in search of his headphones. The sounds from earlier begging to be drowned out by anything that can overpower them. He finds them and tries to sort out the tousled cords, but for every new attempt, three more knots seem to appear. He lets out a reluctant sob and drops the headphones on the ground by his feet.
He’s not exactly sure how long he’s been sitting on the bench. At least three trains have passed, and a few people have walked by without sparing him a glance. He’s not sad about it though, he would’ve ignored him too.
A soft cough on his left causes him to blink his eyes open. A young man is standing by the bench. He’s keeping a safe distance but is still closer than any of the other people passing by. His hands are hidden in big pockets and his shoulders sunken as if he were nervous.
“Do you need help?”
The voice is not at all what Sirius expected. It’s soft and deep and makes him want to close his eyes again. Maybe this person’s voice can drown out the screaming and shouting for him. Sirius wants him to talk again, so he nods.
“Oh.. ok,” the man looks as if he wasn’t expecting Sirius’ answer, and nods to himself. “Can I take this?” He asks and reaches for the bottle without waiting for an answer. “I’ll just put it right here.” He places it on the ground, far out of Sirius reach.
The man takes a seat beside Sirius, hands deep down in his pockets again. He must freeze, Sirius thinks. It’s not very cold out yet.
They sit silently for a minute or two when the man suddenly reaches out his hand in greeting.
“My name is Remus.” He says and Sirius stares at his hand. Long, boney fingers and short nails. He takes Remus’ hand in his, maybe a bit too soft, Sirius can’t tell. “Sirius.”
Remus lets out a breath of what looks like relief by Sirius uttering his first words.
“Alright, Sirius. Do you have anyone I can call? To let them know where you are,” he says and looks at Sirius.
“James maybe?” Sirius answers after a moment of hesitation.
“Right, great! Can I borrow your phone then so I can call James?” Remus asks and Sirius nods shortly before handing Remus his phone. He thanks him and clicks around on his phone before bringing it up to his right ear.
Sirius doesn’t fancy listening to a stranger talking to James about what a wreck he is, so he distracts himself by picking up his headphones from the ground where he dropped them earlier. He’s already sorted out the cords when he realizes that Remus has his phone, and he can’t listen to any music. He sighs heavily and looks at Remus, wanting the phone call to be over. Thick, old-fashioned headphones wrapped around Remus’ own neck, leading down to one of the big pockets closest to Sirius, capture his eye and he carefully reaches over while Remus is still talking and removes the headphones from around Remus’ neck.
Remus jumps slightly when Sirius plucks the headphones off of him, but only gives him a funny look and keeps talking. Sirius puts them on himself and instantly music takes over the door slamming and glass shattering he’s been hearing for the past hours.
A guitar, fast accompanied by a drumbeat surges through the headphones. Sirius nods his head, probably a little out of beat, but his head feels as tho it weighs a ton.
There’s no clothes I can buy
Make me feel like myself
She said
Sirius watches as yet another train slows down at the station. No one steps out, and no one goes on either. It doesn’t take long for the screeching sounds to reappear as it rolls out of the station, and they’re alone again.
So I put on clothes
To make me look like someone else
Instead
Eventually, Remus gives Sirius his phone back. The conversation took a lot longer than a simple location and state should have taken, but Sirius knows James loves to talk. He was probably trying to make friends over the phone.
And as a matter of fact I don’t like to be seen
‘Cause I’m not satisfied with myself she said
You better hit her
Sirius glances over at Remus. He’s sitting with his eyes closed and his head leaning against the wall, his adam’s apple wobbling from time to time. Not particularly scared of getting caught, Sirius takes in Remus’ face. A sharp jaw, hollow cheeks, crooked nose and covered in freckles and a few acne scars here and there.
She said, she said, she said, she’s dead